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“DJ, let Trisha look. She's really good at this doctor thing," Ashna said and Trisha Raje grinned at her as though she had just dropped the deepest curtsy in front of her.
DJ picked up the colander filled with okra and moved to the fryer. "As I've already mentioned, my hands are fine. I hope yours are still worth as much as they were last evening." Definitely a petty bastard.
That made her tilt her head in confusion again. Apparently, you needed no memory at all to get through medical school. Or maybe it was he who needed to have his head examined for remembering every word that had come out of her mouth like some fragile, egotistical half-wit.”