I understood. I did and I didn’t have a leg to stand on because he was right. Everything he said was completely correct.
“I understand,” I told him.
“Just continue as you are. I’d say this year has started out really well. We’ll continue our meetings and please come to me if you need help. Your plans all sound good. Can you give me a rundown of what you’ll have your mentees doing this week? It’s just so I know. I’ve asked the other mentors for the same. I like the idea of scheduling actual study time. Sometimes people need guidance.”
The subject change was most welcomed although it was me who’d instigated the conversation by telling him I’d kept my pants on.
The truth of the matter was I embarrassed him and I wished I hadn’t. For him, but for me too. Sometimes it felt like being in a cage.
“We’ll start with some work in the cadaver lab tomorrow, then verge on to live surgery. I want to play it by ear and see how they get on. I’d also like this week to be more practical training.”
The mentees had the last two weeks to get into the swing of things and get to know their patients.
I had a whole timetable change so that after the morning study time, the huddle, and patient rounds, we’d do our cadaver work. I had that booked out for most of the day for the next three days. They’d do that then go on to looking after their patients. Thursday things would change again as I incorporated the live surgery. I had a two- to three-hour rotation through the day depending on the type of surgery and the hours required. Each person in my group would get the chance to assist the way I wanted, watch me, and get the supervision they needed from the senior surgeons in charge. At this hospital we aimed for as much experience as possible and whatever we could get that was as close to one-to-one learning.
“Good, well I don’t have anything else. Will your mother and I see you for dinner on Sunday?”
I thought about it. Things had been weird between us as a family since last year. It wasn’t because I was bitter about the way Dad dealt with me. It was me. It was just me. It was different when we talked like this because we were at work. Being in the house I grew up in, with my parents looking disappointed in me, was different. I couldn’t explain it. It was something I didn’t like to talk about nor deal with the emotions that accompanied it.
“Maybe…I’ll let you know.” I probably would go because I hadn’t seen my mom since last month and she would be worried. We called and she sent a message practically every day to let me know she was thinking of me. It was just seeing her that got me. She never said anything but when news of Celina hit and my name was thrown out there, I knew Mom must have thought she’d raised me better than that. Better than the manwhore I’d become.
Dad looked deflated at my answer, but I didn’t let it get to me.
I stood and left.
Cole was just outside the office. He was walking over to the reception area when he saw me.
Last year had changed the relationship I had with him too. Most times we didn’t see eye-to-eye but he always loved playing big brother. He thought the two years he held over me meant he was more intelligent. Sometimes more superior. The last four years of us working together calmed that element of him down a little. After the scandal though, he became more of an asshole. The kind that was always watching for me to slip up.
He was another reason why I wouldn’t want to go to dinner Sunday. It was guaranteed that he’d say something to piss me off.
I wasn’t in the mood to speak to him now. I just wanted to get back to work.
“Hey, how’d your meeting go?” he asked looking me over with crude curiosity. We looked similar. Same features, same build. He was an inch taller than me and wore his hair military short but one look and you could tell we were brothers. We definitely had different mannerisms because I’d never walked around like I owned the world. He thought that just because he was a consultant surgeon now with his own office on the managerial floor that made him one of the gods of Olympus.
“Fine,” I answered.
“I saw your mentor group. Looked to me like a buffet of temptation for you.” He folded his arms under his chest.
That comment of his was exactly what I meant. I had eleven mentees. Five guys and six women. Six women he thought would be temptation for me to slip up.
“Cole if you don’t have anything useful to say to me, just don’t bother to speak to me,” I told him.
“That is useful. I’m just keeping you in check so you don’t land your ass in trouble.”
“You don’t need to do anything.”
“Well, last year says I do. Don’t forget while everyone jumped on the bandwagon and was ready to throw accusations your way, it was me who defended you.”
How could I forget? He wouldn’t let me forget, and I wouldn’t forget it either because no one believed me except him when I claimed my innocence. It was Cole’s belief in me and defense that gave the push for Dad to get top legal involvement to check things out.
“Cole, you have nothing to worry about. You didn’t then and there’s nothing now.”
“Make sure. No one wants a repeat of last year. Believe me, it won’t be a good look for you.” He walked off and I stared after him.
I bit the inside of my lip. This was all absolute shit. All of it. Unfair shit that was destined to follow me, it seemed.
I didn’t do anything wrong and here I was trying to act like a saint.
Trouble was a thing I’d be staying far, far away from.
But what if trouble came for me?
What should I do then?
***
I’d decided to head to work early the next morning.
Three a.m. early.
I headed to the library to check out some journals and just as I stepped on to the second floor I saw Paige. She was sitting at the table on the far end with a stack of books before her. She seemed to be deep in study.
I stopped in my tracks, recalling what Dad said to me about most of my mentees pulling all-nighters. I hadn’t realized she was one of them. I could tell she hadn’t gone home because she looked the same way she did yesterday. Pink hair tie that looked a little like a bandana wrapped around that messy bun on top of her head and the same tired expression.
I should leave her alone. This line I’d drawn up between us was good and this was outside of our hours together. There was no need to speak to her.
Unless…if maybe she was having problems with her work.
It was three a.m. and it looked like she hadn’t gone home.
Maybe she was finding things hard and didn’t think she could ask for help because I was unapproachable.
Was that just an excuse I conjured up to talk to her?
Maybe…as her mentor it was my duty to check on her and offer my help if I thought she needed it.
Besides, I wouldn’t need to worry how any interaction with her would look. Dr. Barry wasn’t here. Not at this hour. I was free of his supervision and free to decide if I wanted to just check on Paige without him or anyone thinking I was hitting on her.
Cole wasn’t here either. He was, on occasion, at the hospital at this time. But never in the library.
On that thought I made my way over to her. When she saw me she frowned and looked like she was trying to fight back a scowl. She failed though.
“Morning,” I said trying to sound bright.
“Good morning. Is…there something you want?” she asked.
“Nope, I was just checking you didn’t need help with anything.”
She blinked several times and straightened up against her chair. “I’m not sure I can answer that Dr. Dawson.” She said my name with emphasis.
“Why not, Dr. Taylor?”
“It’s fine. I’m perfectly fine Dr. Dawson. As you can see I’m well ahead of myself. Never even left the building. Last saw my house three days ago.”
Okay…
That wasn’t what I wanted for anyone.
/>
“You haven’t left the building in three days?” Now it was my turn to frown.
“No. I’m not sure what you expect with all the work you’ve given us to do. Some people seem fine. Others, like me, not so much. This is my way because guess what? I worked out there’s not enough hours in the day. Simply not enough, especially when you don’t know what could happen to your patients on a day-to-day basis. It could be anything. It’s not like they’re here for surgery because nothing’s wrong with them. I just pray my brain doesn’t turn to soup.”
I sighed and swallowed hard. “Dr. Taylor—”
She stopped me. “Please, don’t call me that. My name is Paige. Please at least call me by my name during times like this when I don’t have to feel like I joined the army and became Private Taylor. Your voice in my head calling me Dr. Taylor over and over again is enough to claw my eyes out.”
I didn’t mean to but a little smile inched across my lips.
“You think it’s funny?” she added.
“No, Paige.” It was the first time I’d said her name and it felt good. “It’s just what you said. Do I sound that bad?”
“Yes. Anyway, I’m busy so if you don’t need anything I need to get back to what I’m doing. My uncompassionate mentor wants me to read all of this by today.” She pointed to the stack of journals.
I had an idea. Something that could be a bad idea, but it wouldn’t stop me.
“What if I hand you a pass and you don’t have to do the reading for today?”
Her mouth dropped and she made a show of looking overtly shocked. “Did I fall asleep?”
“No…I’m being serious. Today’s a very important day and I need everyone in top form. How about you go home, get some sleep, and get here for midday. Meet us in the cadaver lab.”
She just looked at me, staring like she was trying to figure me out.
“This isn’t some kind of trickery is it? Like a test to see if I go or stay. Staying means I’m serious, going means I’m not?”
I chuckled. “Paige it’s you who thinks I make up these games, even when you didn’t know me.”
Her cheeks flushed at the reference to the first night we met.
“Well Dr. Dawson, I swear to God I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Ryan…” I corrected. “Call me Ryan. It does sound weird being called Dr. Dawson all the time. So, how about we act more social when we aren’t working?”
Her eyes clung to mine as she seemed to consider the idea, then she nodded. “Okay, Ryan…and thanks. I do need sleep. I’m going to need my game face for later.”
“Well, I guess I’ll see you later.” This was fine. I gave help and showed sensitivity.
“See you later.” She gathered the journals and made her way over to the stairs.
Just like that first night we met, she glanced back at me and something stirred inside. Something stirred, awakening desire I hadn’t felt in a long time.
It was something I had to ignore. Resist, even, because it would be trouble.
Chapter 6
Paige
I had really good sleep.
Probably because I was so damn tired. I wasn’t joking when I said I’d been at the hospital for three days. I had been and it was awful.
On all the days it just got to the point in the evening where there was so much to do that I ended up staying. There was a dorm set up for the staff so we could sleep if we had a night shift or were on call, but that didn’t tend to apply to first-year residents like me who’d only been in the program for a little over two weeks. Even though I’d only been in a few days over the last two weeks, I felt like I was barely managing.
Barely managing was perhaps an understatement. I was actually finding it hard and found myself getting flustered whenever I came across something that would take up hours of my time.
Like yesterday when Mrs. Appleby wouldn’t part would her rabbit’s foot before her surgery. She wanted the damn thing around her neck. And she didn’t want to take out her nose ring either because it gave her luck. It took me an hour to talk her out of it. By the time she eventually agreed I was late for my next patient and then the lateness rippled on well into the night as I updated my notes.
I wasn’t complaining. It was all part and parcel of the job, but what I hated was the early morning study sessions. I didn’t think it suited everyone. It didn’t suit me. The only good thing that came out of it was my decision to do my research in the various therapies used to treat heart disease. I chose it knowing I‘d have to work with Ryan even closer than I wanted to. It was one of his areas of specialty and I actually found a very useful journal entry by him in one of the internal journals.
Ryan…
That was the first time I’d thought of him in my head as Ryan and not Dr. Dawson.
He seemed different this morning, more human and more like he was back at the bar, without the charm and flicker of interest in his eyes.
I’d wondered what he must have thought when he saw me that first morning coming into the lecture hall. Yes, he’d thrown me out, but there must have been some element of shock too from seeing me.
I got back to the hospital just before midday. I changed and that bubble of excitement I first felt back in med school when we started doing practicals filled me.
It felt real.
The idea was very morbid because of the whole aspect of cadavers which I totally had to get my head around back then. It was just that I was able to separate it in my mind.
I saw it as a necessity to help give me the practical experience I needed to become a surgeon.
It was really hard because from time to time it definitely crossed my mind that it was once a living, breathing person. But I managed and sailed through my practicals. It was the same with my internship here. I sailed through that too.
I got down to the lab and found everyone else there all dressed and ready to go. Ryan stood at the head of them. He was talking about taking notes.
I walked in and stopped short when my gaze landed on the body of a young woman lying on the operating table.
She had pale skin. Very pale skin. White, almost unearthly, like something from a nightmare. Blonde hair adorned her head. Hair almost white, just like mine.
Just like…Lizzie’s.
Then suddenly I remembered it all. The day of the accident. I remembered it as if it was happening right before my eyes.
It was a Saturday afternoon. We were on the way to Sasha’s wedding, our friend. Lizzie made me turn back because she wanted her pink lipstick. I turned back…we would have just missed the truck with the drunk driver if only I hadn’t turned back. We would have just missed him.
I remembered the pain that rippled through my body as the truck crashed into me. Lizzie’s screams mingled with mine and then there was nothing. Nothing until I heard a chain saw. I remembered opening my eyes and knowing I was still inside the car. They were trying to cut us out. I’d turned my head and saw Lizzie’s face. Her face was pale and had a blue hue. The same color as her lips.
I remember screaming from the depths of my soul. Any kind of hope left me and the fright of seeing her—not being able to help her, and knowing she was dead—made me faint.
The same thing happened now as the air left my lungs and I found myself falling to the floor.
***
“Paige…”
In the darkness of my mind I could hear the faint call of my name. I stirred and my eyes fluttered open meeting bright light. I shut my eyes quickly from the intensity.
“Paige,” the voice said again.
I released a breath and opened my eyes again. This time the light didn’t seem so bright.
I was staring at a white ceiling light, then Ryan’s handsome face hovered over me.
He was here. I didn’t know why and I didn’t know where I was. All I knew was that I was lying down on a sofa in an office.
A little smile pulled at the corners
of his mouth and his eyes twinkled.
“Paige, are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah…I think so. What happened?”
The smile receded. “You fainted.”
I sat up quickly and held his gaze as it came back to me. The memory of me fainting came back to me along with instant humiliation.
“Fainted?” I breathed.
“Yes, do you still feel lightheaded? You were out for a little over an hour.”
“No.” I shook my head and looked around.
“This is my office. It was quicker to get to. Your vitals seem okay.”
All I could do was stare at him.
God…
I’d actually fainted?
When I walked into the lab and saw the body of the girl on the operating table, it brought up memories I’d had to shove to the back of my mind to move forward in my life. Traumatic and shocking memories that would forever be imprinted on my mind and soul, because the day Lizzie died was the same day a piece of me died too.
Words couldn’t quite express it.
Fainting today was not something I’d factored in happening. And now during my residency?
I’d fainted at the sight of the body. That was why I fainted. I didn’t even do that in med school. Not when I first saw a dead body and not when we had to do our practical work on one.
“Have you eaten this morning?” he asked.
Dr Dawson Page 4