by B. B. Hamel
“And so do I.”
“I know that,” she said, “which is the only reason you haven’t been fired. Piers, you have an incredible record, you’ve done things most men your age only dream about doing, but I can’t step in here. I’m very much in a bind.”
“Why did you call me up here, Caroline? If you can’t do anything, why would you bother?”
“I wanted to ask you about your new resident.”
That surprised me. I leaned back in the chair and frowned at her for a long moment, gathering myself. I’d been thinking more and more about Lori lately, thinking about her technique, about her smell when I leaned close to her, about kissing her lips or brushing my knuckles against her cheek.
And our little deal. She held a lot of power over me, which didn’t sit well, not at all.
I needed the damn girl. There weren’t many people in this world that would vouch for me. I wasn’t exactly unaware of the way I acted around people. I was sort of an asshole, or if I was in a charitable mood, I’d call myself grumpy. I’d alienated most of the people in positions of power that could help me, all because of my relentless drive to be the best. I was obsessed, and that made me a dick.
Lori didn’t have a set opinion yet—or at least not one that couldn’t be changed, sooner or later. I wanted to show her that I wasn’t some bastard.
And admittedly, it wasn’t only because of the lawsuit. The more time I spent around her, the more I wanted her to like me, her in particular. It felt good to think that one person in this world didn’t think I was a total lost cause.
“She’s doing fine,” I said reluctantly. I wasn’t about to air all that out to Caroline.
“Her cousin’s very interested in her progress.”
“Tell him she’s doing well. I’ll train the girl. She’ll be ready.”
“Good.” Caroline nodded. “Say what you will about your bedside manner, Dr. Hood, but you’re very skilled. I’m sure you’ll pass on those skills to Dr. Court.”
“My bedside manner isn’t the problem.” I crossed my arms. “It’s my issue with authority.”
She gave me a bland smile. “I’m sure it is. You have to understand though, I walk a delicate line. The hospital is a business—”
“But it shouldn’t be,” I said, interrupting her.
She shrugged slightly, as if that were beside the point. “But it is a business, and I need to make sure it brings in revenue. Without money, the hospital stops seeing patients, and more people end up sick and hurt. You see that, don’t you?”
“I see a bureaucracy that cares more about extending its own lifespan for the benefit of its insiders than a group of people that gives a damn about patients.”
She laughs lightly, as if I were joking. “Be careful with Lori, please, that’s all I wanted to say. She’s important to this hospital, and she’s important to your future.”
I let that one linger in the air between us. I understood the implication: fuck up, and I was finished.
Even after all the good press I’d brought to the hospital by being one of the best surgeons in the world, even after all the lives I’d saved, all the countless bits of praise, it still wasn’t enough for them. The administrators always wanted more, in the end, it was always about getting more.
“Is that all?”
“That’s all. Have a great day, Dr. Hood.”
I stood and left. I felt like I had eyes on me as I rode the elevators down and headed out onto the street. I played that conversation over in my mind, again and again, and kept coming to one conclusion.
Caroline wanted to threaten me, but she was too proper to outright say it.
That was how these businesspeople worked, coming at things sideways so you could never quite pin them down.
The message was clear enough though. I had to work with Lori and turn her into a decent surgeon, or else I was finished.
Good thing he already wanted to do that. For once, his marching orders and his own desires matched up perfectly.
I found Lori in the laundromat, sitting on top of a dryer with her legs crossed, reading a book again. It looked like she’d never left that spot, like she’d been doing laundry there her entire life. She didn’t notice me at first, and she was alone in the place, sitting in a beam of sunlight, her hair shimmering as she adjusted her head, tilting it slightly, turning the page, licking her fingers—a hint of pink tongue, her lips parted—and her eyebrows knit down in concentration. I felt spellbound, like I couldn’t move, and all I wanted to do was watch her all day, watch her reading, watch her do chores, watch her lounge around doing nothing at all—so long as I could watch her, I didn’t care.
But she looked up and broke the moment. She looked surprised then closed the paperback. “When did you get here?”
“A second ago. I didn’t want to interrupt, since you look so busy.”
She rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”
“I just got done talking with the hospital admin.” I walked over and leaned up against the dryer next to her. Our faces were at the same height with each other. Normally, I loomed over her, six or eight inches taller, but now I slouched down slightly, and she sat up straight.
“Caroline Pincher?”
I smiled slightly. “Look at you, knowing the important people.”
“My cousin drilled their names into my head before I started.”
“Smart man.”
“Annoying, really, but I guess it’s handy.”
“Well, you’re right, I met with Caroline. She more or less told me that if I didn’t treat you well, then I was screwed.”
She snorted and smiled. “You already knew that.”
“True, but I’m telling you this because I figured you should know. Someone high up’s watching out for you.”
That seemed to bother her for some reason. She looked away and marked the page of her book by turning down the corner. She shut it and tossed it aside before kicking her legs out and stretching them.
“I didn’t ask for preferential treatment, you know.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“Seriously. I told my cousin to stay out of it, but that’s not really his deal.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised. Men like that don’t like to relinquish control.”
She looked at me sideways. “Something you know a lot about.”
“I won’t pretend like that’s not true.”
“Anyway, you know I’m not here to screw you, right? This stuff with the private investigator, and now whatever Caroline’s doing, it wasn’t my choice.”
“I was sort of hoping you would screw me,” I said, smiling a little.
She blushed a deep scarlet. I knew teasing her wasn’t the best idea, but I couldn’t help myself. The girl held so much power, and I hated when someone had that much over me—I had to do something to take it back.
And besides, I liked the way she blushed. She was pretty when she was embarrassed. Or, hell, she was pretty all the time.
“Don’t be a dick. You know what I’m saying.”
“I know, and our deal stands. I figured I should mention that the administration’s paying close attention to us though.”
“Does this mean I can stop doing your laundry?”
“Absolutely not.” I turned toward her, ready to make some joke—and found her face inches away from mine.
It was a surprise, though it shouldn’t have been. I knew we were on a level field, but seeing her lips up close, her pretty cheeks, her eyes and nose, I had a strange falling sensation, and remembered that moment in the elevator where I nearly did something very stupid.
I had that same urge again, almost impossible to deny.
She didn’t move away. She could have, even should have. Instead, she leaned closer, head tilted, mouth open. Her lips were gorgeous and red, and I pictured biting the lower one gently, making her gasp in surprise and pain and joy, before fisting her hair and pulling her body against mine—
I met her eyes. “I
know what you’re thinking,” I said, and realized I was nearly whispering, though the place was empty. The only other sound was the deep hum of a dryer, and the smell of fabric softener permeated the air. “But seducing me isn’t going to make your life easier.”
“No, I’m sure it would only make it harder.”
“Very hard.” I moved closer. “It would complicate things.”
“I know that.”
“So why are you still here?”
She said nothing. So I kissed her.
I held that kiss for a long moment, tasting her lips, and some voice in the back of my mind screamed at me to stop, that I was fucking up big time, that I was making a stupid, emotional decision, one based in desire and physical need, and this would only make my life so much harder—but fuck that voice.
I wanted her and that was all that mattered.
The bell for the door broke us apart. I looked away from her, and she chewed her lip, staring down at her hands. An old woman walked in, gave us an annoyed glance, then began to shove her clothes into a washer.
I looked back at Lori and she stared down at her hands. I could tell she was conflicted, upset even, maybe mad at me, or mad at herself. There was a power imbalance, and maybe she wasn’t sure if she could turn me down—but no, the way she kissed me, the blush in her cheeks, I knew she wanted this. I saw it every time she looked at me.
“You still have to finish my laundry,” I said.
Her eyes flashed up at mine and the anger returned. I smiled and patted her thigh. I wanted that anger. It was one of her best qualities.
“You don’t know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?”
“Of course not. If I knew that, I’d probably own the hospital by now.”
That made her laugh, though it sounded bitter. I moved away from her before I was tempted to kiss her again. I knew that couldn’t keep happening, but now that I’d broken some unspoken rule between us and tasted her lips, I knew I’d want more, and more, and more, and I had to control myself.
There was too much at stake, and I couldn’t let this distract from the important things. We had our work, and we had to put on a good show for the admins and for the private detective. If any of them caught a whiff of this—
I didn’t want to imagine the shitstorm that would start.
She hopped down off the dryer a second before it buzzed and pulled the door open. I watched her shove my laundry into the bag, still warm and toasty.
“There,” she said. “You’re welcome.”
And without a word, she stormed off.
I watched her go, unable to help but smile.
“You should be nicer to your girlfriend,” the old woman said.
I glanced at her. “And you should mind your own business.”
She made a noise in the back of her throat and walked off, shaking her head.
I carried the bag out of the laundromat and headed toward the hospital.
9
Lori
I thought about that kiss day and night for the next week.
We didn’t talk about it. In fact, he seemed like he wanted to stay away from me as much as possible, and I didn’t put up much of a fight. He did his procedures and I stood in during most of them, and he let me close up a few more times, tweaking my technique, offering simple and concise suggestions. I felt like I learned more in those operations than I did my entire time in medical school, just from watching him, and hearing him explain his methods.
But the kiss still lingered between us.
It was an unspoken mistake. Or maybe not a mistake, but a bad decision. I needed to try to keep my distance from him as much as possible if I was going to help him with his case. If that PI caught us kissing, or if the hospital got wind of it, he’d be totally screwed, and I doubt my career would go anywhere after that. I had too much at stake in this to risk it, all for some stupid kiss, some stupid desire.
Even still, that kiss, god, that stupid kiss. I dreamed about it: soft, but not too soft, he tasted like apples and mineral water. I wanted to run my hands through his thick hair and let him spread my legs wide, let him kiss my neck, strip off my top, get me naked right there on the vibrating dryer, let him take me, every inch of me, without hesitation, with wild abandon.
But god, it was stupid, so very stupid.
Between procedures, I spent my time with the other surgical residents.
“I gotta ask,” Greg said one afternoon while we waited outside of a surgical suite for the others to finish washing up. “Is he as intimidating as everyone says?”
I didn’t need to ask who he meant. “Sometimes,” I said. “He can be a little intense during operations, I guess. The nurses all seem kind of scared of him, but also sort of in awe? It’s a really weird dynamic.”
“I’ve heard the nurses talking shit about him,” he said, laughing. “Seriously, I think some of them hate him.”
“I bet they do, but I don’t know. He gets a bad reputation. I don’t think it’s entirely justified.”
“Are you learning much? I mean, I barely see you two together unless you’re standing in.”
“Tons,” I said. “I’m learning more about how the hospital runs with you guys, but he’s teaching me about surgery, and it’s kind of amazing.”
“I’m jealous,” he admitted.
“Maybe we can switch one day.”
“Really?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Absolutely not. You don’t really know Dr. Hood at all, do you?”
He grinned at me and shrugged, and the other guys came out before he could push for more.
It was hard to talk about Piers with the other residents. They asked questions like that all the time, about his skill in the operating room and about his notoriously bad attitude, but the more time I spent with Piers, the more I thought all that stuff was overblown—and way beside the point.
Some things still bothered me. I didn’t see Piers around his patients very often, and only from a distance so far. I didn’t know what kind of bedside manner he had, and I guessed it was fairly bad, if he was keeping me from it. Still, his reputation in the hospital was good, despite the attitude, and I understood why. He had by far the best outcomes of any surgeon around.
I left the hospital at the end of my shift having spent maybe ten minutes with Piers all day. That wasn’t entirely uncommon, though I could tell the other doctors resented it. I walked toward my apartment, hands in the pockets of my coat, head down, oblivious to the world—when someone came up beside me, and matched my stride.
I looked over, ready to tell whoever it was to go to hell—and found the private detective smiling back at me.
He wore the same outfit as before: windbreaker, khaki pants, hat pulled low. “Hello, Dr. Court,” he said.
“Sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
His smile didn’t waver. “Theodore Block, but you can call me Ted.”
“All right, Ted.” I didn’t slow my pace and barely looked in his direction. I felt like I was talking to an enemy of the state somehow, like I was being disloyal to Piers, but that was absurd. If this man wanted to ask me questions, I could answer them. I had nothing to hide.
“I was hoping we could talk for a moment, if you have the time?”
“I’m sorry, I’m on my way home after a long shift.”
“It won’t take more than a moment.”
“You can talk while we walk.”
He chuckled but didn’t slow. “Very well then. You are aware of the litigation between my clients and Dr. Hood, is that correct?”
“I know the Tippett family is suing him, if that’s what you mean.”
“Then you know that his character is very much at the center of this case. My clients mean to portray him as difficult and reckless, as the kind of man with an ego problem, a danger to everyone around him. I believe that you are now closer to him than anyone else in that hospital, and your input on this case would be incredibly helpful to my clients.”
“I ha
ve no interest in helping you or your clients.” I reached Broad Street and had to stop for a light. Ted hovered next to me, and I wished I could tell him to go away, but that felt like it would be even worse.
“You might reconsider,” he said. “They believe they can help you, in return.”
The light turned, but I didn’t cross. I stared at Ted, mouth hanging open slightly, trying to understand what he was saying to me—but his meaning was clear enough.
“You’re trying to bribe me.”
He shook his head. “Of course not. I’m merely mentioning that my clients have extensive connections to hospitals all across the country, and they’re willing to put those connections to use. They could benefit you greatly, Dr. Court.”
I sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. I was stuck standing at the light for another round of cars, and I felt absolutely trapped. I should’ve been shocked and appalled that they were stooping so low, but it didn’t particularly faze me.
There was so much money involved in this lawsuit. I didn’t know for sure, but I could guess at how much they wanted from the hospital and from Piers in particular. He wouldn’t have to pay, of course—his insurance would cover a huge portion, but his premiums would skyrocket, and might get so expensive that he couldn’t practice medicine anymore.
This could ruin him. And I could benefit from that.
“I don’t want their help,” I said. “If I’m going to talk about Piers—and I mean that I might not—but if I do, I’m going to be honest. And I’m going to do it because I want to.”
“I understand your reluctance to accept any sort of help from my clients,” Ted said, speaking slowly and softly as more people lined up around us, waiting to cross. “But believe me when I say this, life is a very messy thing. There’s no black or white, only shades of dirty gray. I’ve seen a lot in my time, Dr. Court, and much of it has been very ugly. You’re young, and you have a promising career ahead of you. I truly want you to make the right choice.”
I felt my anger flare up again. I knew I should keep it under control but I couldn’t help myself. “You’re threatening me now.”