by J. Saman
She’s been holding it, letting it linger as more of an extension of her hand than something she is all that interested in. Her eyes are glued to the screen of her phone, a frown staining her beautiful face.
I’d bet money that it’s related to a patient. I’ve never met a doctor who cares more for their patients than Ivy does.
She types something in and then slides the phone back into its resting place in the back pocket of her jeans. Craig Stanton decides this is the perfect moment to make his move, grabbing her attention with some bullshit or another, his intrinsic charm reeling her in.
I let it happen, mainly because I don’t exactly see him as a threat.
He’s interested in Ivy, but it appears entirely superficial, and well, I trust her.
But I’m still watching, because I’m not a moron either. Who am I kidding? I want to throttle that motherfucker for even glancing in her general vicinity, let alone talking to her.
“You done dicking her around or what?” Ivy’s sister Sophia asks, casually sliding in beside me, except there is nothing casual about her slightly aggressive stance. She’s an interesting woman, and I’m not quite sure what to make of her. Her love for her younger sister is unambiguous, but she has been merely tepid with me.
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
She puffs out a dubious breath, the blonde curl dangling from her forehead bouncing in the breeze. “What I’m really asking you here, princess, is if I need to call in my cleaner to take care of you.”
Turning to look at her, a wry smile lights up my face. “Your cleaner? Is that like some Pulp Fiction shit or what?”
“Not exactly. He’s more like a problem solver, but he owes me a favor or six, and if you’re going to hurt Ivy, I’ll make you one of them. And believe me, it would be a piece of piss for him.” I want to laugh at that, I really do, but she isn’t even so much as smiling. Whatever humor I was feeling dies instantly.
She is absolutely serious.
Yeah, I really don’t think she likes me much.
“I’m not a problem for her, big sis, and hurting her is something I find just as abhorrent as you do.”
“That’s good onya, mate, because you’re rather iffy as far as I’m concerned.”
“Retract your claws there, Tiger Lily. I may be one of the lost boys on this island, but Ivy is my home, and I’ll follow her anywhere.”
Sophia observes me for a very long minute. So long in fact that I am resisting the urge to shift my weight out of discomfort. I am rarely intimidated by anyone, but this chick is managing the impossible.
Probably because I am desperate for her approval and know I have a million miles to go until I get there.
“Okay, but screw her over, and they’ll find your balls on the side of the road somewhere near New Mexico and your dick in a warehouse in Colorado. The rest of you, I can’t really speak to.”
“Thanks for the graphic detail on that. Bodily harm and regular old threats aren’t enough for you? I get dismemberment and castration?”
Sophia lets out a loud snort. “You’re lucky I’m not Dad. Ivy is his baby, in case you missed that today. Anything I can think up; he’ll do worse.”
“Noted, Soph.” I smile, using the familiar nickname Ivy uses for her. “I like you. You’re a little scary, quite possibly unbalanced, definitely crazy as fuck, but I love that Ivy has you.”
“I know.” She sighs. “Ivy is pretty spiffy, and I’m just now starting to see the signs of life that had dwindled for a while.” She turns to look at me as she takes a sip of her wine. “That tosser ex of hers really mucked her up, so you can understand my having reservations about you.”
I nod, but she’s not interested in my response. Her eyes are fixed on Ivy, who’s laughing at something good old Craig is saying to her. Douchebag. Just the simple idea of him having her sets my teeth on edge. In fact, the idea of any man other than me having Ivy, ignites a torrent of brush fires inside of me that cannot be manipulated or quelled. I am not known for my anger or aggression, but dammit all if that’s not what I’ve got going on right now.
Dickface.
“I’d never do anything like that to her. Ivy told me all about Jason, and if she’d allow it, I’d go after him with my bare hands—or my computer, since I’m far more effective with that.”
“I know you are, Luke, because though you haven’t been fair dinkum when it comes to telling Ivy about yourself, much like your mate Ryan over there, I know everything.” My jaw drops, and she grins the grin of the Cheshire Cat who ate the goddamn canary whole. “I told you I have people, and your shit is your own, except that it involves Ivy now, and you need to tell her.”
I swallow the lump in my throat that is suddenly cutting off my oxygen supply. This woman has managed to throw me not only off my game, but out of the goddamn park and onto my ass. She’s very good. I’ll give her that.
“I can’t.” It’s really all I can say, because I’m reeling over here. How on earth do so many people know about me? Okay, it’s really only two, but in my very small, limited circle that’s like forty percent right there.
“For what it’s worth,” Sophia turns her attention back to Ivy. “I would have killed the bastard myself too.”
I laugh out, probably because I don’t know what else to do. That’s not exactly what I thought she was referring to.
So much for sealed juvenile records.
“How the fuck do you know so much?” She can’t know everything. There’s just no way. Ryan suspects because I work with him and have been leaving on my “trips” for years, and has looked into my past with his mad computer skills, but there is no way Sophia could know about that. Right?
Sophia gives me a sardonic look. “Please, bitch, I work in Hollywood. It’s my job to know everything about everyone and decide what to say and how to spin it. That’s why I’m the best, and everyone knows it. But I also know how to hold onto those secrets, and I won’t divulge yours to Ivy. That’s not my job.”
Sophia gives me a half-smile, but the softening in her eyes tells me that her sister is the most important thing in the world to her.
“I know you know this, but she’s a regular Joe of a person. She just wants to get up, go to work, do an ace job at it, and come home to someone who will love her. That’s it. That’s her grand life aspiration, and she fucking deserves it.” Sophia takes a deep breath, like just thinking about how ordinary Ivy wants her life to be is exhausting. “If you can’t or won’t give her that, then walk away.”
“Walk away.” I test the words on my tongue and they taste like vomit mixed with Vegemite. Probably because in the back of my mind, I know she’s right. “She’s leaving me soon enough, you know.”
“Pft.” She rolls her eyes. “You nobby cunt, she’s desperate for you to tell her you’re willing to try long distance.” My eyes widen and a small laugh pops out of my mouth at the name she just called me. “Don’t make a face, cunt is a regular insult Down Under. But I mean what I’m saying, so get over yourself for a minute and listen up good. You need to tell her the truth about who you are. All of it. She deserves that from you, especially since I think you love her, and you’re what she wants.”
“You really don’t shut up, do you?”
“That’s what you just took from everything I said?”
“Was there more to it than just rambling? I mean, did you tell me shit I didn’t already know?”
“Screw you.” She flips me off, but smiles as she does it.
“Cool your twisted knickers over there, Secret Keeper Emo Barbie. I’ll figure something out.”
“Secret Keeper Emo Barbie?”
“No good?”
“Utter rubbish.”
“Huh.” I rub my chin in contemplation. “I’ll have to think of something better. Right now you’re too much of a contradiction for me to come up with something more befitting a woman of your caliber.”
“You do that, cupcake. In the meantime, I need more booze. My liver is goin
g to shrivel up and implode if I don’t feed it properly.”
“Isn’t it the other way around?”
Sophia shakes her head, her blonde rolled curls bouncing. “No, Ivy informs me that when you have liver disease related to too much alcohol consumption, your liver becomes huge and hard.”
“You need help. Seriously. How on earth are you related to Ivy?”
“Brilliant genetics, Luke. Brilliant fucking genetics,” she winks at me. “Kisses,” she sings as she walks off toward the collection of Australian wine that’s assembled on Ivy’s kitchen island. I’m smiling like a son of a bitch. I think I love Ivy’s sister just as much as she does.
But her insistence on me coming clean is causing a sick knot to form in the pit of my stomach.
I can’t do that.
There really is just no way. I’ll lose her for sure if I do.
17
Ivy
* * *
“All clinical indications point toward appendicitis,” I tell the parents of the eight-year-old little girl who is lying on the gurney in the emergency department looking miserable. Poor lamb. “I’d like to get a CT scan to confirm this and see how far along she is with it. Depending on how inflamed the appendix is, we might be able to give her antibiotics and avoid surgery.”
“Is that safe?” her mother asks, looking exhausted. I can’t blame her, it’s seven-thirty in the morning and they’ve been here for the last three hours.
“It is, but as I said, it depends on how far along she is with it. From what I can tell given her history and exam, she’s pretty inflamed. She has a lot of generalized abdominal pain and positive rebound tenderness in her lower right quadrant. We’ll know more after we get a better look at it on the scan. I’m going to place the order for that now, and Doctor Schwartz will be taking over for surgical service. He’s excellent, so you’re in good hands.”
“You won’t be doing the medication or surgery or whatever?” the father asks.
“No, sorry. I’ve been on all night, and Doctor Schwartz is the surgeon. It’s always better to have a fresh pair of eyes. If he determines that Michelle needs surgery, which I’m afraid she probably will, he’s one of the best.”
Both parents sigh out simultaneously. “Okay. Thanks,” the mom says weakly.
“Hang in there, Michelle. I’ll see if they can give you something for the pain.” She offers me a tight half-smile, half-grimace, and I walk out of the room, texting Schwartz as I move toward the nurses’ station.
I’m ready to go home. This night was brutal.
Three traumas back-to-back and one of them was a gunshot wound that took the better part of two hours to stabilize before we could even move him up to the OR.
That, and I had a child that I suspected was being abused.
Those cases shake me to my core. It was a three-year-old boy with a broken arm and large bruises on his abdomen and flank that were indicative of being repeatedly kicked. We managed to separate the child from his parents, and he’s now in the hands of social services, but still. Those are the types of stories that have me boozing on Manhattans.
“You heading out?” Kate calls to me as I type in the order for the CT scan and morphine for Michelle.
“Yeah.” I rub my bleary eyes with the backs of my hands. “I’m knackered. I just have to finish up. You?”
Kate looks equally worn. The ICU got slammed last night and is just now catching up.
“Heading home as we speak. I’m hoping to catch Ryan before he leaves for work.” I smile at that. In the weeks that Luke and I have been “having fun,” we’ve spent a lot of time with Kate and Ryan. The three of them together are something rare and special. You don’t often see friendships like that.
“Tell him I say hi.” I smile, and she throws me a wave and a wink before briskly walking toward the exit.
Cold air brushes across the back of my neck, and I rub it away as I finish typing out my note on Michelle. More cold air, but it feels like someone is blowing on me instead of just passing by, so I turn and find Craig Stanton grinning at me in that buoyant way of his and looking far too good for this hour.
Why is he blowing on my neck?
“Morning, Craig. You coming or going?”
“Isn’t that my line?”
I scrunch my eyebrows at him. “Pardon?”
He waves me away. “Nothing, just trying to be crass.”
“Oh.” I roll my eyes. “There’s a worthy goal.”
“I’m heading out. I was on all night as well.” He’s smiling at me with his pearly—probably cosmetically whitened—teeth and charming smile. I haven’t seen much of Craig in the last couple of days, which is not exactly something I’m complaining about. He’s nice enough, I guess, just a little too persistent for my liking.
“Have a good day.” I smile slimly and turn back to my computer.
“You interested in grabbing breakfast with me? There’s a case I wanted to speak with you about.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Hypoplastic left heart syndrome that was just born last night.”
That gets my attention. “Really? Wow.”
He nods with an excited grin.
Don’t get me wrong, we’re not excited over sick kids or patients, but we are excited over the challenge, the rarity of the case, and the ability to fix the problem. It’s what we live and breathe and slave away for.
“I was hoping you’d want in on the surgery.”
“Me?” I’m shocked. “I’m ED, not surgery or cardio.”
“I know that, but I’ve seen your work, and it’s a rare case. I thought you might like to watch, or whatever.”
Why does it feel like he’s asking me out on a date? Is it the way he’s propositioning me? Or maybe I’m overthinking this.
“I’d love to Craig. When were you thinking of doing the surgery?”
“Are you done here? I’d like to talk more about it, and I’m starving.”
“Oh, um.” How can I say no to that? He wants to talk surgery, and colleagues catch a meal to discuss a patient all the time. “Sure, but can we not go to the cafeteria? That place is feral.”
Craig laughs, brushing his hand against my shoulder for absolutely no reason that I can discern. “There is a really good place close to here. I’ll just wait while you finish up.”
Ten minutes later, Craig and I are walking out into the bright morning sun, which is finally feeling more seasonably warm. We’re headed in the direction of Lake Washington when I hear my name being called. I don’t react because it wasn’t loud, and I haven’t slept. I’m probably just hearing things, but when I hear it again only more emphatically, I turn around to find Luke jogging toward us with a stoic mask on his face.
“Hey, I was calling you. Didn’t you hear me?” he asks once he catches up to us and places a kiss on my cheek.
“No. Sorry,” I smile. “What are you doing here? I thought we were going to try for a late lunch.”
He looks over at Craig for a beat before turning his attention back to me. “I know, but I wanted to catch you after your shift.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, um.” Luke shifts and looks at Craig again. “Did I interrupt something here?”
Craig and I both speak at the same time, only he says “yes” and I say “no” and now it’s just awkward.
“We were actually going out for breakfast,” Craig says, looking as cheerful as ever.
“You were going to have breakfast with him?” Luke asks in a tone I can’t distinguish. Is he mad or put off by this?
“Yes, Craig wanted to discuss a patient with me.” I tilt my head trying to figure this out.
“And you can’t do that at the hospital?”
I glance over to Craig who is smiling smugly. I don’t like this. Not one bit.
“We’re hungry. We just got off a long, grueling shift, and the thought of rank hospital food is not appealing.”
“Right,” Luke says. I still can’t tell what he’s
thinking, though he’s definitely taken a very deliberate and possessive step in my direction.
“Ivy, we should get going so we can eat and get some sleep,” Craig says, grasping my elbow. Luke’s eyes ignite, and I can see where this is headed.
“I’m the only one sleeping with Ivy.”
“Hey now.” I step toward Luke, as Craig maintains his hold on me. “That’s not called for. It’s a working breakfast, Luke. Like you’ve never had those before? Come on. This doesn’t have to turn into something.”
“Ivy,” Luke snarls, pointing an aggressive finger in Craig’s direction. “He wants to sleep with you. You may think this is a working breakfast and all professional and shit, but both Craig and I know better.”
I look to Craig who still has that damn shit-eating grin on his face, and now I’m just getting annoyed with both of them.
“Well, I’m not interested in playing this game with either of you. If you want to hash it out, then have at it, but I’m tired and hungry. I want to eat so I can go get a few hours of rest before I have to return to the hospital for another shift.” My voice ends on a high note as I yank my arm out of Craig’s grasp, storming away from both of them.
I hear the two of them chatting behind me, but don’t even bother trying to listen. Frankly, I don’t care enough.
Craig never mentioned where he was taking me for breakfast, but I find myself standing in front of a posh boutique hotel with both Craig and Luke hot on my heels.
Was he taking me to a hotel for breakfast?
That’s sort of odd, isn’t it? Maybe Luke is right?
“Ivy, can I speak to you for a minute?” Luke asks, glowering at Craig with narrowed eyes. “Alone?”
“Of course,” I turn to Craig. “Is this where we’re eating?”
“Yes. Best breakfast ever.” He crosses his arms over his chest with a satisfied look.
“Okay, I’ll be right back. I’ll just meet you inside.”
“I’ll get us a table.”
Luke gives Craig a once-over before extending his hand to him, which makes me smile.
“I’ll see you later, man,” Craig says.