"There's no way that it's not going there."
Whose to say moving across the country for a job and a best friend is a stupid decision? Oh, right, everyone she knew back home.
But where he was, that just had to be home. She just wasn't sure if she'd e...
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Indistinct chatter everywhere around her, people who seemed to know everyone else in the room, and a unspoken awareness that these people had more money than Blair could ever imagine. She was beginning to wonder if it was weird that, other than Declan, she spent all of her free time hanging out with surgeons—world renowned surgeons, at that, nepotism baby surgeons and groundbreaking clinical trial surgeons, baby surgeons still in their residency, seasoned surgeons who were skilled enough to be appointed chiefs of surgery.
She was in an entire house full of smart, smart brains. And every prettier faces. They all looked shiny and happy.
She thought that growing up around the Avery family, maybe she would have already been used to this. But no. It was one thing to be at a party because of a family name, and another to be at a party full of big names.
Jackson had dragged her there and asked her to wear nice clothing—they were celebrating Shepherd, for what? She had no clue. She was starting to think she should be offended that he keeps asking her to come last minute. Did he really think she had no other plans that she could just magically be free to do whatever with him?
Actually, he probably did. And he would be right.
He seemed to spot someone, his green eyes lighting up as he looked across the room.
"I'll be right back," he whispered to her, putting his hand on her lower back as he did, before wandering across that room with that charming smile of his.
She had no time to object, just enough time to open her mouth and then frown as he made strides further and further from her. She looked around again. This house was huge, and apparently, almost everyone lived there. It was like a college dorm house, except for highly trained surgeons.
She started to see waiters—how much money do these people have to have hired waiters—coming out from a particular hallway with full trays, and followed their trail to the kitchen. She stopped abruptly in her tracks as she did. The house seemed old, lived in and cozy, from the dated furniture and the type of fridge they had. But there were three people from the catering staff in there, one holding a tray and the other two arranging more. The kitchen island was covered in trays of finger food, even an authentic dumpling steamer.
"Wow," she breathed out, moving out of the way for the waitress to pass her, grabbing whatever was on her tray as she did.
"Pretty Boy's Pretty Girl!" the voice she heard, though familiar, was foreign in how enthusiastic it sounded.
Blair turned her head to the left to see Cristina Yang sitting in a chair next to a china cabinet, a napkin and a treat in her hand, too. Next to her, on the china cabinet, was a martini glass with a napkin coaster.
