Contents
Dedication
Title
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Books by A.K. MacBride
Acknowledgments
This one is for all the brave men and women working in medicine.
We see you.
We appreciate you.
I had one goal: To learn from Sebastian Ryker.
He was an award-winning physician in his field of medicine.
A genius who could diagnose you with the barest of symptoms.
The best of the best.
Too bad he turned out to be an egotistical jerk.
Mere hours into my first day, I realized that the man I had idolized for years didn't live up to the hype.
He was rude, arrogant, and totally full of... himself.
It was clear that my presence bothered him, that I was nothing more than an irritation.
So, why did I want to melt into a puddle whenever those dark eyes were trained on me?
And why didn't I listen when my head warned my heart that he'd break it in two?
I had one goal: To learn from Sebastian Ryker, not fall in love with him.
Copyright © 2020 by A.K. MacBride and Cocky Hero Club, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors' imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Roxanne Herman
Proofread by Epilogue Editorial Services
Proofread by Suze Robinson
Cover by Dazzling Designs
Egotistical Jerk is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward's British Bedmate. It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.
Chapter 1
MIA
"Wow. I'm actually here."
Tilting my head back, I took in the giant red-brick building. The grin on my lips slowly stretched into a full-on smile. I'd wanted this for too many years to count. And by this, I meant working here at Memorial Hospital. Or more specifically, working on Dr. Sebastian Ryker's team.
I always knew I wanted to be a doctor. I had a stack of photos of five-year-old me carefully treating my fuzzy friends as evidence. But it wasn't until my third year of medical school that I knew I wanted to specialize in diagnostics.
One of my favorite professors—he had coincidentally been Dr. Ryker's professor too—had come into class one morning, just about bursting at the seams with excitement. He'd reached into his leather satchel and pulled out a paper. When he started reading the article Dr. Ryker had written about how the H1N1 virus could've been identified a lot earlier, I'd been transfixed. Something inside of me clicked into place and I just knew diagnostics and I were meant for each other.
That was how my obsession with Dr. Ryker's work was born. There wasn't a paper he had written that I didn't know about or an article about him that I hadn't read. He was my professional hero. I didn't just want to work for him, I wanted to be him.
Oh, it was also possible I had the tiniest crush on him too. He might've been twelve years my senior, but the man was one beautiful specimen. Pretty sure I was just one of a whole string of women who thought that, but I was most likely the only one who'd never do anything about it.
I was there to work. Nothing more, nothing less.
My gaze shifted to the bright blue sky hanging above me and a sliver of sadness touched my heart. I couldn't feed it; he wouldn't have wanted me to.
Instead, I closed my eyes and whispered, "I made it, Daddy."
A soft breeze brushed over my face and I allowed myself to believe it was my father telling me he was proud of this accomplishment. Cancer might've claimed his life, but his soul would forever be alive in me. Following my dreams—like he'd told me to—was my way of honoring the man who not only raised me but turned me into the woman I was today.
Opening my eyes, I turned my attention back to the imposing building in front of me; taking in the lush green grass and the giant shrub shaped in an m+. I hiked my bag higher over my shoulder and after smoothing my palms down my denim-covered legs, I walked through the sliding doors.
The glass parted with a hiss, the distinctive hospital smell immediately washing over me. Stepping inside felt a lot like coming home. As if every cell in my body knew this was where I belonged.
My eyes roamed over the interior, taking in every single detail I could. The long L-shaped check-in desk tinted light blue with the hospital name stamped on it in bold white letters. The gray chairs that made up the waiting area were arranged back-to-back in three neat rows.
Dropping my gaze to the shiny floor beneath my feet, I grinned. It was about two shades lighter than the chairs, but I still could make out my blurry reflection in it.
A fierce sense of accomplishment fell over me once more. With hard work and a lot of determination, I'd set off after my dreams, and I was so much closer to making them a reality.
Behind me, the door whooshed open again right before someone politely asked, "Excuse me."
"Sorry."
I was so transfixed that I hadn't even realized that I was standing inside the entrance. I moved to the side, giving the man and his paraplegic companion enough room to pass by.
My gaze followed them as they made their way to the nurse sitting behind the check-in desk. She smiled sweetly at whatever the man said before handing him a clipboard. Flicking my wrist, I noted that I still had another forty minutes before I had to check in with Gillian on the fourth floor.
The diagnostics floor.
My floor.
For the next three months, and hopefully permanently after that. Because Memorial didn't have a pressing need for so many diagnosticians, they hired us on a probationary period. After three months only one of us would remain on the diagnostics floor while the other three would be transferred to different departments in the hospital.
I released a puff of air from my lungs, the action drumming my lips together and producing a brr sound before making my way to the elevators. I'd only been on Memorial's diagnostics floor once before, on the day of my interview, but even before that, I knew that there were only 14 beds because Dr. Ryker believed the fewer patients in your care at one specific time, the better treatment they'd receive.
Stabbing the upward pointing arrow, I turned to scan the emergency room one last time while I waited. It was pretty full, but that could be expect
ed. People didn't always come to the ER with 'real' emergencies. If I had to guess, I'd estimate about 1 in 4 cases were life-threatening or at least close to being serious.
Looking from person to person, nothing seemed major—to the naked eye at least. That was until I spotted an older man sitting by himself in the corner. Even from where I was standing, he looked a bit gray around the edges. His fist was curled tightly into the left side of his shirt and his chest was rising and falling at an alarming pace.
Ice worked its way down my spine. Dropping my bag to the floor, I set off running toward him. He was trying to get up now, swaying on the spot. His face contorted, confusion evident in his elderly features. I forced my legs to go faster, but I still wasn't fast enough.
It happened in a split second; one moment he was upright and the next he'd collapsed into a heap on the floor. Panic took over and people immediately started crowding him.
"Move! Get out of the way!" I yelled, pushing my way through the throng.
When I finally made it to the man, I dropped to my knees and gently moved him onto his back. Bending over him, I held my ear against his mouth. Nothing. I needed to start doing chest compressions, and I needed to do it immediately.
I placed one hand on top of the other and laced my fingers together before pressing the palm of my bottom hand in the center of the man's chest. Keeping my arms straight and my shoulders directly over my hands, I started pushing hard and fast.
One… two… three… four…
I spotted movement in my peripheral vision before I saw a flash of light blue. Keeping up with the compressions, I whipped my head up in time to see a nurse rushing toward me.
"I need to get him to a bed. Now!" I barked before she had time to open her mouth.
Twenty-one… twenty-two… twenty-three… The crowd surrounding us parted like the red sea to make way for the nurses barreling through with the gurney. The patient still wasn't breathing, and I knew that every single second mattered.
I halted my compressions long enough to allow them to get the man onto the bed before I hopped on too. Straddling him, I immediately resumed working on his chest.
"Uh… ma'am," the male nurse stuttered. "We've got it from here."
Still counting in my head, I looked up and spared him a smile. "It's okay, I work here. Now, you better move so we can get this man to a crash cart!"
He looked a bit bewildered, but thankfully he had the good sense to make his feet move. My arms were in a world of hurt by this time, but I refused to stop.
Come on, come on. Please don't die.
Witnessing death was inevitable in my profession and according to most doctors, you grow kind of immune to it. I wasn't most doctors. I believed in helping people and prolonging life—unless it wasn't what they wanted, but that was neither here nor there right then. Most importantly, I took an oath.
We made a sharp turn into an exam room which was flooded with medical staff a second later. Confident that these people could handle it from here, I removed my hands from the patient's chest and jumped off the bed.
Walking backward, I kept my eyes on them as they ripped open his shirt and prepared him for the defibrillator. They moved fast, wiping his chest and attaching the pads.
Everyone took a step back and one of the doctors yelled, "Clear!"
Just as the man's back arched off the bed, mine connected with something hard.
I spun around and let out a little gasp when I found dark, intense eyes trained on me. It wasn't just any pair of eyes. They belonged to none other than Dr. Sebastian Ryker.
The Dr. Sebastian Ryker.
My hero and new boss.
Behind me, I heard the distinctive beep-beep-beep of a heart finding its rhythm and a little swell of pride bloomed in my chest.
I helped save a man today.
My mouth twitched, a smile just begging to be set free. But one look at the man I'd admired for years, and I immediately pressed my lips together in a thin, tight line.
He did not seem pleased. In fact, he looked pretty pissed off. Dr. Ryker's jaw ticked with unmasked irritation, his eyes sweeping over me in a quick, dismissive manner.
What the hell?
"You're one of mine, right?" The north pole had more warmth than his tone.
I stood a little taller. "I am."
"You can't do that."
"What? Save a man's life?" I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes. "I thought my job was doing exactly that."
Tone it down, Mia… You don't want to get fired before you even start.
A storm brewed in those dark, dark eyes; the intensity of his stare stealing the air from my lungs. I swallowed the lump stuck in my throat. This was it. He was going to tell me to march my butt off the premises.
His nostrils flared, and his mouth opened.
Before he could utter a single word, another doctor appeared behind him and smacked a palm against his shoulder blade. If Dr. Ryker resembled a thunderstorm, the newcomer could be called a sunny day. His blond hair was tousled in a way that made me think he'd just rolled out of bed. The line of his jaw was sharp and chiseled and his eyes were bright blue.
"You picking on the newbies again, Seb?"
I bet that British accent had all the ladies swooning like idiots. He focused on me and even though I didn't think it was possible, his face lit up even more.
"Dr. Simon Hogue." Sidling up next to Dr. Ryker, he stuck his hand out. "Nice to meet you."
"Dr. Mia Phillips." Wrinkling my brow, I asked, "How did you know I'm new here?"
Dr. Hogue took a step back and nudged Dr. Ryker's shoulder with his own. "Oh, Seb here has all of your faces on a board in his office."
A weird sound rumbled through Dr. Ryker's chest. It sounded like a cross between a huff and a growl. He trained his dark eyes on me again.
"I'm sure Gillian is waiting for you." One equally dark eyebrow slowly arched.
Right, that was my cue to leave.
"Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hogue."
Without sparing the other doctor another glance, I side-stepped them both and made a dash for the elevators.
At least I still had a job… for now.
Chapter 2
SEBASTIAN
"I know you think dark and stormy is a good look for you, Seb, but it really isn't."
Tearing my eyes away from the fleeing redhead, I glared to my left and found Simon trying and failing to hold back his grin.
"Piss off."
My grunted words only seemed to amuse him even more. With a shake of my head, I shoved my hands into my pockets and headed for the staff elevator.
I wasn't surprised when he fell into step next to me, and a chuckle filled the space between us.
"Why are you so prickly, anyway? Do you need some action? I'm sure Bridget can hook you up with one of the nurses." Bridget, Simon's wife, was a nurse on staff here at Memorial, and I was certain if I asked her she'd be more than happy to arrange a date for me.
If that was what I wanted.
Being a doctor wasn't just a nine-to-five. Not for me, at least. My brain never left this hospital. There was always some new disease just waiting to be diagnosed. I didn't have the time or energy to date.
And a quick tumble between the sheets simply wasn't my style.
Simon nudged my shoulder, and I realized I hadn't answered him.
"No, thank you. Your wife does not need to set me up. As for my mood." I spared him a glance. "What she did in there was unprofessional."
If I didn't know any better, I would've sworn the sound coming from my friend's throat was cutting off his air supply.
"Oh yes, so very unprofessional." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "How dare she, a qualified doctor, waltz into her place of employment and do her job by saving a man's life?" He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "The nerve of some people."
Now he was pissing me off, too. "There are rules and protocols for a reason, Simon. What if the patient died as a result of something she'd done?"
Another laugh broke free, and he patted my chest in a way that said there, there.
"Sebastian, listen to yourself. You're being a tad dramatic when you actually should be feeling proud."
My eyebrow arched. "Proud?"
"Yeah. You have one doctor on your team who is more than capable of doing her job." His shoulder connected with mine again. "Gotta run. We still on for drinks tonight?"
Once a month, Bridget would stay home with the kids while Simon and I knocked back a few beers. It was a good way to decompress.
"You bet."
Then he was off, finally giving me some much-needed silence—at least as much silence as a busy hospital could offer. I reached the elevator a few moments later and after stabbing the button with my index finger, my thoughts wandered back to the incident earlier.
If I were being completely honest—and I'd never admit this to Simon—I didn't even know why I was so irritated with Dr. Phillips. She actually didn't do anything wrong. In fact, she did a whole lot of things right and she did it with admirable grace, too.
I'd witnessed her arrival a few minutes ago. Even from where I was standing, I could see the wonder and amazement on her face. I didn't like it. If she was awestruck, how the hell was she going to do her job?
She answered that unvoiced question by sprinting across the waiting room and slipping into doctor-mode in the space of a breath. Simon was right, I should've felt pride bloom in my chest because I had hand-selected the four doctors on my new diagnostics team. Even though I wasn't present during any of their interviews, I'd gone through the recordings with a fine-toothed comb, looking for a spark of something.
I'd made it two minutes into Dr. Phillips's tape when I found it. The way she'd spoken about medicine was exactly how I felt about it. It'd been so easy to see that she admired the science behind it as much as she respected it.
So, why am I so pissed off right now?
As the elevator dinged to announce its arrival, the doors slid apart. I knew finding an answer to the question grating on my brain would be near impossible. Instead, I stored it away for the time being and stepped into the elevator.
Egotistical Jerk: A Hero Club Novel Page 1