Passionate Rivals

by Radclyffe

  “The Franklins—” Emmett grimaced. “The new PMC residents need to get up to speed as quickly as possible, and the chief wants the services integrated so those of us who have the most experience can make that happen.”

  “Hold their hands, you mean,” Sadie said.

  “Oh, come on,” Zoey said. “Don’t we have enough to do?”

  “Well,” Emmett said, “you’re about to have a lot more.”

  “They’re splitting up our service, aren’t they,” Sadie snapped.

  “They’re splitting all the services. So everybody just has to suck it up.” Emmett couldn’t complain in front of her junior residents, and especially not in front of a med student who just happened to be her little brother. “Zoey, you’re moving to peds surgery.”

  “What?” Zoey shot up straight. “Why? I don’t need more peds cases.”

  “No, but the chief thinks…” Emmett shook her head. She was the leader and had to set an example, even if she still smarted from hearing that Syd had topped her in the boards. Not by much, but still, she hated being second in anything. Maguire had tasked her and Syd to get this done, and she was going to get all her residents in line. “Dani Chan will be senior on peds, and you’ll be her third year.”

  Zoey stared. “You have got to be kidding me. She’ll be in charge?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s crazy. She just got here!”

  Emmett shrugged. “She’ll be a fifth year in July. She needs the chief level cases. That’s just the way it’s going to be.”

  “Who’s taking my place on this service?”

  Emmett blew out a breath. “I’ll still be senior with Syd Stevens and a Franklin second year.”

  Zoey laughed. “Oh, man, that ought to be fun. Two fourth years going after the same cases?”

  “What about me?” Sadie said.

  “You’re going with Zoey.” She glanced at her brother. “You’re good. None of the med students will be affected by this.”

  Emmett stood before Sadie could have a meltdown. “Let’s get to work.”

  * * *

  “Okay, everybody, gather around,” Syd said when her fellow transfer residents arrived in the locker room. She gestured to the far corner behind the third row of lockers even though the place was deserted at just after eight. All the same, she wanted to have this discussion in private. “I have your rotations—interns, for now you’ll be assigned to a first year slot and get your second year assignments at the normal time.” She read off their names, the services to which the three of them would be assigned, and the residents they needed to contact. “Page your seniors, introduce yourselves, and get to work. You won’t be doing anything differently here than you were doing at Franklin.”

  “You mean scut and more scut.”

  Syd smothered her smile. The classic intern lament never changed, nor did the senior resident’s response. “Suck it up.”

  “Right, we’re here to serve,” one of the others murmured, and the three of them headed for the door.

  “Okay, second and third years, listen up.” She read out their rotations. “Morty…you’re coming with me to trauma.”

  “Cool.” The pale, stick-thin second year pushed his square black glasses up his nose and flicked a shock of lank dark hair off his forehead.

  “They’re not gonna let us do anything, are they,” one of the third years said despondently.

  “What you need to do,” Syd said, as much to herself as to them, “is prove you deserve to be here. You know how to do that. Be the first one here in the morning, make sure you know everything about the patients for rounds. Review the cases that are scheduled for the OR and be ready to assist. And if you’re not…” She anticipated their concerns. “If you’re not assisting, be there anyway, answer questions, be as good as you know you are. Remember, there’s always room at the top.”

  The last of the residents trooped out, and Syd said, “Morty—wait for me outside, will you?”

  “Sure thing.”

  A minute later, Syd, Dani, and Jerry were alone.

  “How bad is it?” Dani asked.

  “We’re about to make a lot of people unhappy today,” Syd said quietly.

  Chapter Seven

  Emmett paused by the cafeteria table. Her team—her previous team—clustered a few feet away, staring at her. For a second she wondered if she’d only imagined she’d just given them new assignments. Maybe they were waiting for her to tell them she’d been joking. That wasn’t it, though. They were waiting for her to tell them what they wanted to hear—that they didn’t really have to make room for anyone new, that the playing field was already full, that they could ignore the new reality. She looked past the junior resident and her brother as if they weren’t there and landed on Zoey. She cocked her head. Well?

  “Sadie,” Zoey said abruptly, coming to life as if someone had flipped a switch, “head up to the NICU and start on the patient charts. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. We’ll need to round on the whole peds service.”

  Sadie made a face. “What about the new acting chief?”

  Zoey shrugged. “I guess that’s up to her. I’m not going to go looking for her.” She shot Emmett a defiant glance as if to say, I did my part. And that’s all I’m going to do.

  Sadie grinned. “Good enough. Catch you in a few.”

  “Hank,” Emmett said as her brother trailed out of the cafeteria after her, “I’ll meet you in the trauma unit as soon as I can. See everyone again before we make rounds.”

  “Oh,” he said, “okay. Sure.”

  When Sadie and Hank got far enough away, Emmett said to Zoey, “You’re really not going to make things easy for the new guys, are you.”

  “And I suppose you are?” Zoey snorted. “Of course, you are still in charge on your service. I have to play wingman for somebody who shouldn’t even be here. How would you feel if you were taking orders from somebody who just showed up, and you were supposed to show them the ropes at the same time?”

  “Okay—I wouldn’t be happy.” Emmett turned in the direction of the trauma unit. “Everyone, including the interns, will have to deal with that on some level. I just think it’s probably best if we don’t complain too much in front of the juniors.”

  “Wow.” Zoey stopped, looked up and down the hall, and pulled Emmett into one of the on-call rooms. The room, one of dozens just like it scattered throughout the hospital, was big enough to hold bunks, a desk, and a bookcase with a couple of reference books no one ever looked at. A stack of clean linens sat on an otherwise empty closet shelf. Housekeeping was supposed to change the beds, but since people were in and out all day grabbing naps, if someone wanted clean sheets, they changed the sheets themselves. Most of the time nobody bothered. Zoey clicked the lock, leaned back against the door, and folded her arms. Her smile flickered between a smirk and a scowl. “Okay, now you can drop the responsible chief-resident-in-waiting routine and tell me what you really think.”

  Any other time, Emmett probably would’ve unloaded her frustration and disappointment. Zoey was her sounding board, just like she was Zoey’s. With only a year between them, they’d shared just about everything the place could throw at them—ridicule, overwork, uncertainty, and the highs of making it up the ladder, one rung at a time. Today felt different, and the distance between them was new. New and uncomfortable. But Quinn had pulled her aside, singled her out to explain what was happening and to ask for her help. Her and Syd. That felt weird too. Syd being here, being in the same position as her, like it or not, had thrown her a curveball. They were somehow on the same side and competing simultaneously. “We could both end up being chief.”

  “What?”

  “Co-chiefs. Syd Stevens and I might both be chief residents next year.”

  “What?” Zoey’s voice rose. “How is that supposed to work?”

  “I’m not altogether sure just yet,” Emmett said, although she had a pretty good idea what might happen. No one was ever equal when power was sh
ared, no matter who said they would be. One of them would have to have the first say, the first pick of rotations and cases, and no matter how hard they tried to look like they were equal, lines would be drawn and allegiances formed. She didn’t like it. Syd probably didn’t either.

  “What did you say about that?”

  “Nothing,” Emmett said. “Maguire said—”

  “Please.” Zoey shook her head. “Maguire spoke and of course you just took it.” She let out a deep sigh, her expression softening. “Sometimes you’re just too good a team player.”

  Emmett grinned ruefully. She wasn’t so sure about that.

  “So how do you feel about bringing your new rival up to speed?” Zoey asked.

  “I don’t know how I feel about it.”

  “You’re kidding, right? How about pissed off and betrayed?”

  “Okay, maybe pissed off. A little.” When Zoey huffed, Emmett rolled her eyes. “Possibly a lot.” She shot Zoey a frown. “But I don’t think Maguire would have done this if she didn’t think it would work.”

  Zoey rolled her eyes. “Listen, I know you think Maguire is God—”

  “That’s not true,” Emmett said, even though on many levels, she sort of did. “But I trust her, and I know she wants us all to survive. So she has to think this could work.”

  “Oh, it will probably work, for most of us. The question is, which of us?”

  “Come on, Zo,” Emmett said with a sigh. “It hasn’t even been half a day. We at least have to try.”

  “Do we? Why?”

  Emmett’s temper frayed. She’d hoped for a little backup from her best friend. “Because we don’t have a choice. We have to do what we’re told, remember? We’re residents.”

  “Yeah, I know. But you know what?” Zoey’s eyes got hard, something Emmett wasn’t used to seeing in Zoey’s carefree, come-what-may manner. “We don’t have to make it easy for somebody else to take what we’ve earned.”

  Emmett got it then. Zoey was scared. Nervous and worried too. Just like all of them, just like her, even. And, she had to think, Syd and all the others too. She grabbed Zoey’s hand and tugged her over to the bunk. They dropped down on it, landing shoulder to shoulder.

  “Look,” Emmett said, “nobody is going to pass you by. All the attendings like you, you’re smart, and you’re quick in the OR. You’ll be fine. All you have to do is your job, and right now your job is to—”

  “You know what I think would help a lot right now? Sex.” Zoey kissed her.

  Emmett laughed. “You always think sex is the answer to everything.”

  Zoey shrugged out of her lab coat. “Isn’t it?”

  They hadn’t turned the lights on, and in the half gloom, her eyes gleamed like a cat’s on the hunt. Even her voice was a purr. Emmett knew that tone—Zoey had switched to autopilot, and the only thing in her sights was the finish line. She wasn’t quick enough to get out of the line of fire when Zoey made a sudden lunge, pushed Emmett down on the bunk, and straddled her hips. Zoey curled forward to keep from hitting her head on the underside of the top bunk and fisted the front of Emmett’s scrub shirt. “I didn’t get mine this morning, remember?”

  Emmett grasped Zoey’s hand as Zoey dragged her shirt out of her pants. “Oh. Hey. Timing. Bad timing, Zo.”

  “No such thing.” Zoey yanked loose the ties on Emmett’s scrub pants and tugged the scrubs lower on her hips. Her fingernails scraped over Emmett’s abdomen.

  Emmett twitched. “Zoey, come on.”

  Sex was Zoey’s panacea—when she was happy, sad, worried, or scared. Sex was her go-to release. Some people handled all those feelings with a few shots of tequila or a fast ride on a motorcycle or something else to uncork the pressure cooker. With Zoey, it was sex. In celebration or despair. Sometimes with Emmett, and other times with whoever was there. Emmett was good with being Zoey’s release valve, most of the time, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t have her own moments of blocking everything out with a few minutes of pure unadulterated physical pleasure. Zoey was just de-stressing the only way she knew how, and they both knew each other well enough to recognize that’s all they were doing.

  Right now, though, Emmett couldn’t help her. Not like that. Her mind was elsewhere, and her body had checked out. She needed to find Syd. She had a service to get organized, patients to see, and Syd… She needed to stop wondering how this could have happened. How Syd could even be here. Emmett half sat up, but Zoey had her pinned in the narrow space with her knees on either side of Emmett’s hips.

  “Zoey, I gotta go.”

  “Two minutes,” Zoey said, clearly not hearing her. She leaned farther down, a hand sliding under Emmett’s waistband.

  “I’m not kidding. I gotta go.” Emmett caught Zoey’s hand before she could get any lower and really distract her.

  Zoey frowned. “You’re really gonna play it straight, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to take it one day at a time,” Emmett said. “Starting with what Maguire asked me to do.”

  Zoey slid off her. “You know, sometimes you’re just a pain in the ass. If I didn’t love you, I might not be able to stand you.”

  “Yeah, I know that.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of playing by the rules?”

  “Yeah.” Emmett stood, tucked her shirt, and retied her pants. “Sometimes, I really do.”

  * * *

  Just as Syd had instructed, Morty was waiting for her right outside the surgeons’ locker room. She had no doubt he would have waited there all day, calm and unruffled.

  “You ready?” Syd asked.

  Morty nodded vigorously, his Adam’s apple bouncing. “Yep. Totally.”

  Syd smiled inwardly. Morty was one of the rare residents whose eagerness hadn’t been tainted by a few years of relentless work. At first glance, he was often underestimated, appearing gawky and a little socially inept. She’d worked with him before, and she trusted him. He did his work, he never complained, and he had surprisingly deft hands in the OR. As awkward as he appeared elsewhere, he was graceful and at ease with instruments in his hands. As far as she was concerned, you couldn’t ask for much more in a surgeon. She’d need a junior resident she could count on if she was going to be playing catch-up to McCabe on the trauma service. She didn’t envy Dani with a service full of juniors she didn’t know. Sloppy, lazy, or—worst of all—weak junior residents not only made a senior resident look bad, they were dangerous. She was about to become McCabe’s right hand, and like it or not, she needed to be good at it.

  “Come on,” Syd said. “We should get our service in shape.”

  “The trauma intensive care unit is on this floor.” Morty dropped his gaze for an instant before meeting hers again. “I should have gotten a list of the patients. I wasn’t sure who to page, or I’d have that for you by now.”

  “I know you would. I’m not sure who else is going to be on our service, but I’ll page the chief. That would be Emmett McCabe.”

  Morty didn’t say anything, but his look held a question. A question she couldn’t answer. She didn’t know what kind of chief Emmett would be, and she couldn’t explain to Morty why they were being assigned where they were. Theirs was not to question why—and that was never truer than today.

  Emmett had given her her cell number, and she texted, Ready to meet you. Where?

  A few seconds passed and she didn’t get an answer. Shrugging, she glanced at Morty. “Well, we might as well start in the trauma unit. At least we can get a list of who’s in there and go over their charts.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Syd headed in the direction indicated by the sign on the wall. They turned a corner just as a door labeled On-call Room opened and Emmett walked out. She was texting as she moved, and an instant later, a blonde followed her into the hallway, pulling on her lab coat. Emmett stopped short, a quick cascade of surprise verging on chagrin passing over her face. The blonde caught Syd’s eye and grinned. The grin spoke volumes, even if the quick glance in
to the room Syd got hadn’t given her a pretty good idea of what had been going on.

  Syd schooled her expression. It was none of her business what Emmett McCabe did in the on-call room or anywhere else. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d gone looking for a resident and found them indisposed. She was kind of surprised at the timing, considering everything that was going on, but then, this wasn’t her playing field. She had no idea what the ground rules were.

  Emmett flushed just a little, but her gaze remained flat and unapologetic. “Just got your text. The trauma unit is down this hall on your left. I’ll meet you there as soon as I check that everything is covered in the OR.”

  “All right.” Syd gestured to Morty. “Emmett, this is Morty Weiss. He’s a second year.”

  “Right. Morty.” Emmett held out her hand. “Good to meet you.”

  “Same,” Morty said, sounding like he meant it. Syd suspected that he did, glad once more that she’d drawn a lucky number with him as a junior.

  “Our med student is in the unit,” Emmett said. “His name is Hank. He should be able to fill you in on all the patients. Morty, you’ll be his direct supervisor. If you need something, he’s your man. If he has a problem, he should call you first. Anything you can’t handle…well, there shouldn’t be anything you can’t handle, right?”

  Morty squared his thin shoulders. “Don’t expect there will be, Emmett.”

  Emmett nodded sharply. “I’ll see you there in a few.”

  While Emmett talked, the blonde lingered nearby, one shoulder casually braced against the wall. Syd was aware of the blonde’s slow appraisal and wondered if her interest was personal or professional. Everyone was bound to be curious about the new people, but considering what she’d just seen, she wondered if McCabe’s girlfriend, if that’s indeed who she was, had some other kind of assessment in mind. She almost laughed at the idea she might be any kind of competition in that area. The last thing that ever might exist in her universe was an attraction to Emmett McCabe.