by Amy Ruttan
She smiled at him then. “Of course I’ll assist you in the surgery. I would like to see the end of that case.”
Chris sat back in his chair, more at ease. “Good. I’m glad. I want us to be friends, Naomi. I know things didn’t end well for us, but I want us to be friends and colleagues.”
A blush bloomed in her cheeks. “I would like that too.”
“Good.” He leaned over and glanced at her paperwork. “Is this about the bachelor auction?”
“Yes. We have a lot of interesting bachelors. A famous Greek singer and an actor.”
She held out the list and he was impressed with the names.
“We should be able to raise enough money to donate to the Mythelios Free Clinic and continue helping with the relief efforts elsewhere too.”
“That’s good. The earthquake was devastating on so many levels. It nearly decimated the infrastructure of Mythelios. Not only were so many injured, but the water supply was compromised and the island was without power for days. And without clean water, disease and dehydration caused a lot of the medical emergencies.”
Naomi nodded. “I know. Ever since I started working with this organization, I’ve seen and helped with so many disasters. I’ve just never had this kind of public relations nightmare shoved on me with such short notice before. I’d prefer to be helping the wounded and the sick—not doing all this fund-raising stuff. It’s frustrating, but I know it’s necessary, and so here I am, doing it.”
“Well, put it away for now and focus on the surgery at hand. What do you know about a comminuted skull fracture affecting the parietal, sphenoid and frontal bone? As well as a depressed skull fracture of the temporal bone.”
“The patient is suffering from all that?” Naomi was shocked, as a comminuted skull fracture meant that the skull had been broken into three sections. He was lucky to be alive after so much trauma to his head.
Chris nodded. “We didn’t see it last night, with all the swelling, but now we have that managed there’s more, and they’ve emailed across updated scans so I can see the work ahead of us. It will probably be a long night.”
“That’s okay. I want to help. I feel sorry for such a handsome young man.”
Chris cocked an eyebrow. “You had time to notice if he was handsome or not?”
“No.” Pink bloomed in her cheeks. “It’s not that. When I was out to lunch with Lisa, she mentioned that there were two handsome young men checking us out, and she reminded me this morning that the patient was one of them. If he was, those two men were both quite striking and, yes, young.”
A surge of jealousy flared in him and he was surprised by it because he had no right to feel that way. Why shouldn’t Naomi date someone else? He had no claim on her. He was the one who broke it off. He was the one who had passed her over for his career.
“Well, we’ll see what we can do for him,” he managed to say.
“Any word about Stavros?” she asked, breaking the tension that had settled between them.
“No, he hasn’t come back to me. I do hope he gives me an answer soon, because I’d like to get started on treatment as soon as possible. With that form of aggressive tumor, the best course is to start treatment quickly, but he hasn’t even agreed to a full body scan yet.”
“Perhaps he doesn’t want to know. If it’s worse than he thinks it is already, perhaps his lack of answer is an answer in itself.”
“He should fight if he has a chance. He shouldn’t give up. I wouldn’t. Would you?”
“No, I suppose I wouldn’t—but if there was no hope, then I wouldn’t put myself through painful surgery and chemotherapy. Although I see the point you’re trying to make.”
After that they sat there quietly, barely talking.
The ferry docked in Athens and they disembarked.
“Do you want to split a cab to the hospital?”
“I have to go to my apartment and grab some comfortable shoes,” she said. “Shoes that are suited to the operating room.”
He chuckled. “I suppose so. I’ll meet you in the scrub room, then.”
She nodded.
Chris opened the cab door and she climbed in. It sped off through the busy streets of Athens—or rather Piraeus, as that was where the docks were. He sighed, thinking about the task at hand and hoping that he could live up to the reputation he’d thought he’d left behind in Manhattan.
CHAPTER SIX
HIS PULSE WAS racing as he stood in the scrub room, watching through the window as the surgical team prepped the room and the patient. He hadn’t started scrubbing in yet, but he had on his scrub cap.
You got this.
He didn’t know what he was waiting for. Perhaps he was waiting for a sign.
He took a deep breath and used his foot to turn on the water, which was soon warm, and he started scrubbing with the soap. He hadn’t done any surgery in over eight months. It felt good to be back, but he wasn’t sure he completely deserved it.
“Just in the nick of time,” Naomi said as she came into the room.
Her strawberry blond hair was braided and done up in a bun under her scrub cap. Just like she’d always had it before. And the familiar sight set his nerves at ease.
She was so good. Too good for him.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it in time. I thought I’d have to do this on my own,” he teased.
“Never. You are the best in the world at neurosurgery. I couldn’t miss out on working with you again. Just like old times.”
“Some of the best times, I hope. But I’m not a god.”
“Tell that to the hospital in Manhattan,” she teased. “In all seriousness, Chris, I wouldn’t let you down. Maximos is my patient too.”
He smiled and nodded, continuing to scrub. She never had let him down. Yet he’d let her down.
I don’t deserve her.
“I want to do a craniotomy. Last scan shows an aneurysm, and I want to get in there and clip it before I even begin to think of how to tackle the rest of his head injuries,” he said, shaking that thought out of his mind.
“He’s going to need a long recovery.”
Chris nodded. “It will be painful. It will really hurt when he wakes up. I don’t envy him. I hope that he’s a fighter.”
“Look how long he’s held on,” Naomi remarked. “He’s a fighter, I’m sure.”
Chris wanted to hold on to that thought. He needed to hold on to that shred of hope so that it would wash away his nerves.
You got this.
He dried his hands, pulled up his mask and stepped through the door into the sterile environment of the operating room. The scrub nurse met him and helped him into the surgical gown and gloves. He bent down so the nurse could put on his headlight and glasses.
He rolled his shoulders to ease the mounting tension and approached the head of the table. He looked up and saw that he was operating in a room with a gallery that was packed with other physicians. All watching.
It caused his pulse to kick up a notch.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Sorry, Dr. Moustakas. The chief of surgery would like his residents and interns to observe your surgery. You’re a bit of a legend and you’re in our hospital,” the scrub nurse said nervously.
Just what he didn’t want.
Before Evangelos, when he’d been living his life at full speed without a seat belt, he would have welcomed this. He would have eaten up the adoration. But now he felt he didn’t deserve the accolades. That this was all too much.
You got this.
The operating room door opened and Naomi walked in. He let out a sigh of relief on a breath that he hadn’t known he was holding as she was gloved, gowned, and then joined him at the head of the table.
“You okay?” she asked as she stood next to him.
“Perfectly. Wh
y?”
“You seem nervous—or maybe it’s just the atmosphere in the room. You have quite the audience.”
“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled.
He closed his eyes and held out his hand.
“Scalpel.”
The nurse placed the instrument in his hand and he made the first incision—and with that first cut everything came rushing back to him. All he thought about was what he was doing. Everything else faded into the background. All his fears of forgetting what he was doing disappeared, and in his mind he could see the correct way forward, what he’d done countless times before.
And working beside him, anticipating his every move, was Naomi. She knew what to do before he had to tell her. It was as if they were one surgeon, instead of two, and it made the hours of surgery fly by in an instant.
Before he knew it, they were finishing up and the patient was being closed by the resident who had been chosen to work with them.
The students in the gallery were applauding politely as he walked away from the patient to the scrub room, and it was then that the many hours of being in surgery after months of being out of practice finally hit him. He felt as if his body weighed a ton and his eyes were lined with sandpaper.
He leaned against the wall after he’d peeled off his surgical gown, gloves and mask. Then he made his way to the sink to scrub out.
Naomi joined him. “You were brilliant,” she said, smiling.
Her eyes were bright and warm, making him feel he was actually wanted.
“Thank you. You were too, by the way. I don’t think I would’ve handled it as well without you.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
He loved the way she blushed. The pink in her cheeks made him think about kissing her over and over. He cleared his throat to shake the sudden inappropriate thoughts out of his mind.
“What time is it? Any chance I could catch the ferry back to Mythelios?” he asked.
“I hate to tell you, but no. You’ve worked all night and it’s now almost noon. That was a whopper of a surgery—which took even longer because you had to clamp that aneurysm.”
He swore under his breath. “I’ll have to call Lisa and tell her that I won’t be home until the evening ferry now. At least the hospital has on-call rooms where I can rest for a couple of hours.”
“That it does—and you should rest,” she said. “I would offer you my bed, and repay the debt, but I live in a tiny stamp-sized apartment that’s only one room.”
His blood heated at the thought of having to share a small apartment with her.
Focus.
“Thank you for the offer, but I told you the debt was repaid by you assisting me on this surgery. I truly appreciate it.”
“Anytime. Would you like to get something to eat after you’ve rested? Do your postoperative notes, catch forty winks and then come and have some lunch with me in Athens? Remember we always used to have a postsurgical celebratory dinner?”
He grinned. “And that was always followed by something else. Something more pleasant.”
What are you doing?
Only, he couldn’t help but flirt with her.
She blushed again. “It would only be dinner this time—in fact, it would actually be a late lunch as you need to catch the last ferry back, remember?”
“Of course. Yes, sure—I would like that. I have to eat, don’t I?”
He was slightly disappointed that it wouldn’t lead to something else, but he was mad at himself for even thinking that way about her. For wanting more when he knew perfectly well that if he had her once they would both want more—and he still couldn’t give her that.
All he had left to give her was friendship.
“I better go do my postoperative notes and get my head down for a bit. Shall I meet you in the lobby of the hospital at about two?” he asked.
“That sounds good. We can have a leisurely lunch and maybe do a bit of sightseeing before you head back down to Piraeus to make the last ferry home.”
She left the scrub room and he leaned against the sink, dropping his head to stare at the drain.
He knew he shouldn’t go out to lunch with her, but he was a sucker for punishment. And when it came to her, he deserved every form of punishment that karma threw his way.
* * *
What am I doing? What am I doing?
She’d repeatedly asked herself that question ever since she’d invited Chris to lunch. She’d come back to her apartment to change, and something in her gut was telling her she was a making a huge mistake. She’d been overcome by his request that she assist him in surgery, and then in the operating room she’d gotten to see him in action again.
She’d forgotten how amazing it was to work with him. To have him trust her in his operating room. And she’d forgotten how they truly did work so well together.
She’d been in many operating rooms, both as the lead and the assisting surgeon, but when she was with Chris, it was like magic, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. For one glorious moment in time she’d forgotten about their past, forgotten that he’d walked away from her, left her with a baby he knew nothing about, and forgotten how she’d suffered alone when she’d lost their child.
What harm could one little lunch do?
So much...
“Sorry I’m late,” Chris called out as he crossed the busy lobby of the hospital. “After I woke up, I had to speak to Maximos’s mother and it took longer than I planned. Expect the same if she ever sees you.”
He grinned at her. His dark eyes were twinkling and that perfect smile made her melt. What was it about him that made her let down her guard?
“There’s nothing wrong with gratitude,” she said. “I’d be pleased.”
He chuckled. “Well, she might not kiss you as passionately as she did me.”
Naomi started laughing. She couldn’t help it. “She kissed you?”
“It was quite a good kiss—but she’s not a single lady.” Chris winked. “Where shall we go?”
“There’s a lovely taverna down on Pritaniou, and then maybe we could take a stroll around the Acropolis and Parthenon. I have yet to see them.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve never seen them?”
“I’ve seen them from a distance, but I haven’t actually seen them. When I was fourteen, I didn’t have much of a chance because my grandmother was dying, and since I’ve been here this time, I’ve just been so busy...”
“Everyone should have a chance to go to the Parthenon and the Acropolis.”
“Well, now I can—and you can tell me all about them. I’m relying on you for authenticity,” she teased.
“That’s putting a lot of pressure on me.”
“Good,” she said pertly, and she took his arm as they walked out into the bright sun of Athens in the afternoon.
The streets around the hospital were buzzing with traffic, but Chris led her through the hustle and bustle, and they managed to find a cab to take them to the part of the city near the Parthenon and the Acropolis.
An open-air taverna sat just below the hill. And even though it was sweltering, the taverna was in the shade of some olive trees and had a nice cross breeze.
Chris pulled out a chair for her to sit down and he sat next to her.
A waiter came over and greeted them. “Yassou, what can I start you with?” he asked.
“Coffee,” Chris said.
The waiter looked at her.
“Water, please,” she said.
The waiter nodded and left.
“You’re having coffee in this heat?” she asked incredulously.
“You forget I don’t get much sleep at home with an infant. I’m sure there are bags under my eyes.”
“Not too many.” She grinned.
The waiter returned with their drinks and th
ey ordered a light lunch of fish and salad.
Chris took a sip of his coffee. “That hits the spot,” he said, and leaned back. “I hope the heat breaks before next week, when I have to go up on stage in a tuxedo and be bid on.”
“Thank you for doing that. The other doctors in the clinic were all going to step up, but...”
“Yeah, they’re all conveniently taken,” he grumbled, but then he smiled. “I don’t mind. Though I don’t know what a single father can offer...”
“You have a lot to offer. You’re a doctor, and being such a caring father is very attractive to most women.”
“Is it?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And how about you? Is it attractive to you?”
Affection glowed in his eyes and it made her catch her breath. She could feel warmth flooding her cheeks. Before she could answer the question, the waiter returned with their fish and salad.
They continued chatting about the surgery, and mundane things about the clinic and the hospital. When they were finished, and the waiter had taken everything away, he caught her off guard again.
“Are you going to be bidding on anyone at the auction?” he asked.
“What?” she asked, almost choking on her water.
“I asked if you will be bidding. You organized it, but surely you can bid too—and if so what kind of date are you looking for?”
“I don’t think we should be talking about this,” she said quickly, looking away.
“Why? Are we not friends? You said so yourself.”
“Of course we’re friends.” She sighed. “Okay...no, I will not be bidding on anyone because I will be hosting the event. I’ll be doing the auctioning, so I can’t really bid on one of the lots, can I?”
“That’s disappointing, but I get it.”
She opened her purse and paid for her half of the bill. “I have so much on my plate I can’t even think about dating anyone—even for charity. I’m way too busy.”
And that was the way she liked it. Being busy meant she didn’t have time to think about the pain, or the way her heart ached when she thought about what might have been.