Luce loved Monday, but she couldn't help thinking her cousin made a lot of noise concerning Kenneth for nothing.

"He's boastful and acts as though he knows it all. Oh, and he's old; I'm sure he's ancient."

Monday could count herself lucky for the latter, Luce thought. The thirty-seven-year-old had a long history with younger suitors.

Of course, she didn't look her age and made the saying black don't crack a reality, but still, couldn't she appeal to men her age?

All the men she attracted were younger, and she found herself with an age gap once more with pastor Jacob.

The last relationship she had with men her age ended badly. If the guy wasn't possessive, he had an issue with her job that he found too time-consuming.

Why couldn't she find a man that accepted her the way she was, job lifestyle and all.

The woman sighed as she glanced at herself in her locker's mirror.

Already in her uniform to gain time, Luce slipped on her clogs and headed to her ward. She was halfway down the hall when a tap on the back made her turn. A man in full motorcycle gear stood with his helmet on.

"Excuse me, there's an entrance for deliveries, and your helmet should be off inside."

The man took it off, and Luces' eyes widened. It wasn't common to see a black man under this type of attire. And it was almost fiction for him to be handsome.

"Excuse me; I wasn't aware of these rules I'mㅡ."

"Oh, doctor, there you are. I was looking all over the hospital for you," doctor Rodin, the chief of radiology, said.

"Doctor?" Luce exclaimed.

"Ah Luce, thank you for bringing doctor Watkins here. I was afraid he got lost."

"I didn'tㅡ."

"Yes, she was of great help," doctor Watkins interrupted.

The man was whisked away by the head of radiology.

Luce continued her course. No one told her about a new doctor, or did they. Absorbed by her love life, the woman sometimes blanked out information. The next time she saw doctor Watkins, the man was in hospital attire and presented himself to the staff.

"Good morning. I'm doctor Blaze Watkins."

"Blaise, like Blaise Pascal," Luce whispered to her colleague Catherine who heard Blaze.

"It's Blaze, like blazing fire," the doctor said, looking in Luces' direction."

"He has good ears," whispered Catherine.

The women stood at the back. One had to be attentive and close to catch their discussion.

"I'm the terminal illness and HIV/AIDS department's new head."

"Doctor Watkins is from London. He has worked for institutes such as our very own Pastor institute and the WHO HQ in Congo RDC," doctor Rodin added.

The resume was impressive, just like the man himself.

"He's hot," Catherine whispered.

"Ssh."

The doctors' eyes shifted in the women's direction again. Catherine turned away while Luce looked straight ahead. She had nothing to reproach herself.

Dr. Watkins smiled and continued his presentation of the projects he had for the ward and the improvements he hoped to bring to the service.

"Also, I'd like to interview each of you. I need to know what your short, medium and long-term plans are. I wish to know you all better."

The whispers began.

"Did he say everyone, like the nurses as well?"

"I think so," Luce replied.

"I said, everyone."

"He must be a fan of New Amsterdam," Catherine said, "what kind of ears does he have?"

The meeting ended, and Luce went on to check on the patients.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Delaunay."

"Morning, Luce. I heard there's a new doctor."

"News travels fast. He's the Head."

"Is he handsome?" The old lady asked.

"He'sㅡ," Luce hesitated. Doctor Watkins was handsome if one liked tall, dark, umber skin men with full lips. The doctor was Mondays' type. She loved dark after midnight men, whereas Luce appreciated men of lighter complexion with thin traits, such as pastor Lennox. When Luce thought of it, she was surprised her cousin fell for Kenneth. Monday didn't mind dating men outside of the black community, but she usually remained in Meditteranean, Latino, see oriental regions. Kenneth was the first European caucasian she dated; Luce thought if her cousin told her everything. It just showed Luce that preferences faded when true feelings emerged.

"He's okay," the woman finally replied after her reflection.

Luce continued to prep Ms. Delaunay and left for her next patient. Her morning carried on as usual, but the nurse found herself stuck in another Dr.Watkins episode.

"He's Okay," luce had said when she spoke to the older lady but was the word appropriate to describe the man all of Luces' colleagues jived about as if he were the next best thing after jollof rice and oxtail.

"Do you think he's single?" Karima asked.

"I didn't see a ring," Catherine answered.

"I hope he is. I've got fibs for him," Melody stated and turned heads.

"What? I'm just letting all of you you know," she said.

"Well, may the best woman win," Luce heard.

Luce had no time to claim anyone. Her colleagues were younger and single for the most. If ever the man had to pick, he would set his eyes on one of them. Besides, her heart already pulsed for someone else.

The woman typed her report and got up to see the next patient. She had no time to think of the doctor or place bets.

Luce was checking up on Mr. Muudi when Catherine came to find her. "I'll replace you."

"Pardon."

"Dr. Watkins wants to see you."

"Now?" Luce exclaimed.

"Yes, now. Go on, he won't bite. He's quite nice, actually."

"Did you see him?"

"Yes."

"What did he ask?" Luce asked.

Catherine shrugged, "just basic questions." The nurse advanced to Mr. Muddis' bed, "good afternoon, Mr.Muudi. How are you feeling today?" Catherine asked.

"I'm good."

Catherine turned to find Luce still standing there, "what are you doing? Go, he's waiting for you."

Luce sighed and hurried to his office. Stress mounted as she knocked on the door.

"Come in, please, have a seat. The office is a little messy. If you don't mind, I'll carry on cleaning."

"Okay."

Luce watched him.

The doctor turned back and smiled, "ㅡeh, sorry. I don't think I made myself clear. You can present yourself while I set up everything."

"Eh, okay," the situation wasn't ideal. The woman expected something more formal. Still, she proceeded, "my name is Luce Olowe. I've been working here for seven years."

Can you speak a little louder, please?" Doctor Watkins said while he placed some files in the drawer.

What was wrong with the man?

Was he deaf?

And what was this mockup interview?

Couldn't he sit still and listen?

As if he heard, dr. Watkins stopped and came to sit down at his desk before saying, "Inu mi dun lati mọ yin. [Nice to meet you]."

"Hé?" Luce exclaimed.

"Sole so ede Yoruba? [Do you speak Yoruba]," doctor Watkins pursued.

"bẹẹ ni, [yes]."

The doctor smiled, "Mo gbọ́ èdè Yorùbá díẹ̀ [I only speak a little yoruba], but I'm glad to know there's someone in the team I can practice."

"How did you know I'm Nigerian?" Luce asked.

"Thanks to your name."

"Oh, I see. Yours doesn't indicate anything."

"My mom is Nigerian, and my father is Jamaican. I agree Watkins doesn't indicate anything. You seem shocked."

"It's not every day someone speaks to me in Yoruba at work," Luce said, unable to prevent her cheeks from rising.

"So tell me more, nurse Olowe."

Luce adjusted her position, "I'm happy to work here."

"Any plans, ㅡI don't know, do you want to become chief nurse orㅡ."

"No, I'm good."

"So no ambition? I saw your file; you started med school before opting for the three-year course to become a nurse. Why did you drop out?"

"Money, my single mom couldn't afford it. If she did it for me, she would have had to offer the same to my sisters ."

"I see; any other plans? Personnel projects, marriage, kids, etc."

"Are you supposed to ask this?"

"No, but it allows me to know if I can expect a honeymoon or a maternity leave in the upcoming months which means reorganizing rotas. I prefer to anticipate," the man said and got up to resume what he was doing.

"No, no, plans anytime soon."

"Good, mogbadun bi mose nba e soro [it was nice talking to you]."

"Pardon, is that it?"

The man's eyes darted from side to side before he released a smile, "yes, unless you want to stay and chat some more. I know all I need to know."

Luce got up, walked to the door, and turned back, "actually, I would like to be a chief nurse."

"great. We can work on that," Dr. Watkins said.

Luce left feeling perplexed.

What type of questions were that? She thought.

Doctor Watkins continued to smile as he thought of the woman who sang Tiwa Savages,' somebody's son, with her windows down while they waited for the crosslight to turn green and red for the pedestrians.

Blaze was glad to know she worked in his service, whether a coincidence or luck.