The Doctor's Secret

by Heidi Cullinan

  None of this had come up when the administration had interviewed him, Hong-Wei thought as he sipped his beer, but he wasn’t surprised. He wondered how much else he could get Lane to confess. “What’s the work environment like? Do people get along? Are they competitive with one another?”

  Lane seemed confused. “Competitive? I’m not sure what you mean. As far as getting along… well, it depends on who it is. Owen—he’s Dr. Gagnon—is known for being difficult, but I think that’s overblown, personally. The nurses gossip a lot, which I don’t care for, but it’s not like anybody can stop that either.” He sighed. “The hospital board is a little… scary. They’re all old, which would be fine, but they’re a total good-old-boys club. The hospital CEO is a solid guy, I always thought. He was friends with one of my friends in high school. The HR director, though, is the son of the hospital board president, and he makes me nervous. You know Roz, that woman from 9 to 5?”

  9 to 5 was one of the movies he and Hong-Su had used to improve their English. “I’m familiar with her, yes.”

  “He reminds me of her, sometimes. I feel like everything I say goes directly to the board.”

  Lane toyed with his straw, first with his fingers, then with his lips as he stared off to the side, ostensibly considering something deeply. Hong-Wei paused with an onion ring halfway off his plate, arrested by the sight of Lane’s full lips teasing the straw.

  Stop it, he chided himself. He’s a nurse. Your nurse.

  The spell was broken when Lane sat back, a determined look on his face. “I’m going to tell you this because you’re going to hear about it eventually anyway. We’ve had our share of scandals recently at St. Ann’s. The CEO before Nick Beckert was fired due to embezzlement, and before the air was clear, a married clinic doctor was caught sleeping with his nurse. It was like watching a soap opera live at work, except it got ugly and made the papers and the TV news. I don’t think the board was paying as close attention then as they are now, though they’ve been worried about money since forever. Anyway, we got a new CEO, and the new HR person. The latter is really bringing down the hammer.” Lane aimed his fork at Hong-Wei. “Don’t be fooled by how Erin Andreas appears either. He seems small and sweet, but he smiles while he bites you. He’s already fired four people since he arrived last month.”

  Interesting information. Hong-Wei digested it as he drank more beer. “Has he fired any doctors?”

  Lane laughed, the sound startling for its bitterness. “Are you kidding? Not a chance. The doctors are never wrong.” Apparently remembering he was in the presence of a doctor, Lane averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “I mean, the hospital gives doctors the benefit of the doubt, always.”

  “That will be an interesting change, then.” Hong-Wei picked up his burger and took a bite, thinking as he chewed. “I’ve been a surgical resident up until now. Things were my fault even if I was at home sleeping when they happened.”

  “Nothing will be your fault. I thought things would get better once we switched to the electronic record-keeping system, because finally the doctors couldn’t blame us when we couldn’t figure out what their insane handwriting meant or when they wrote the order wrong and the pharmacist yelled at us. Now they still ask for the wrong dose of medicine, and when the pharmacist says an order would kill the patient and calls to tell them so, we get yelled at for letting them interrupt the doctor.”

  The beer was unloosening things in Hong-Wei, making it easier to laugh. It also silenced the voice warning him not to notice how the lighting in the restaurant was making soft halos dance on top of Lane’s light brown hair, casting pleasant shadows across his broad shoulders. “This sort of thing happened to me in my residency as well. I hadn’t planned on passing on the experience to my nurses, though. I thought I’d prefer to be a competent surgeon instead.”

  Oh, but Lane had a nice smile. “About that. I don’t know the full story, but I heard the other doctors and some administrators talking. I hear you’re an exceptionally good surgeon, or that you have some kind of special skill? I didn’t understand all of what they were talking about, but what I gathered is we’re very fortunate to have you at St. Ann’s.”

  Hong-Wei held his glass to his lips longer than necessary as he tried to decide how to reply. He hadn’t given the full truth to St. Ann’s in his interview. Had they uncovered it on their own? It didn’t matter, he supposed, but it made him uneasy. The whole point in coming here had been to step back and be a simple general surgeon.

  He cleared his throat and set down his glass. “I had many places to choose from for my postresidency employment, yes. I decided to come to St. Ann’s, however, because I wanted a more intimate, uncomplicated hospital experience.”

  “Well, I don’t know about uncomplicated, but you’ll probably get more up close and personal with people than you care to.” Lane’s smile was crooked, apologetic, and impossibly endearing. “That includes me, I’m afraid. We have a few other backup nurses trained, but in the same way you’re the only surgeon at St. Ann’s, I’m the only surgical nurse. So we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, Dr. Wu.”

  “Call me Jack.”

  Lane’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, that’s your first name? Huh, not what I expected. Do most people in Taiwan have Western names these days?”

  The beer had relaxed Hong-Wei’s tongue to the point of no return. Or perhaps it was Lane’s smile and gentle eyes. “No. Jack is the name I use with people outside my family, since Americans don’t have an easy time with Asian names.”

  “Would you mind telling me your given name? I’ll use Jack if you prefer, but I’m curious about who you really are.”

  Who you really are. He was both Jack and Hong-Wei equally at this point, but Lane was so clumsily charming, Hong-Wei couldn’t resist him. He shifted on his chair. “Wu Hong-Wei.” Why did he give it in Taiwanese order instead of Western order, with his surname first? Now he was just being silly.

  You’re an idealist. Grace Albertson’s voice came back to him. Hong-Wei had to agree. Though now he wondered if he didn’t have to admit to being a romantic as well.

  “Wu Hong-Wei.”

  Hong-Wei shivered and went still.

  Lane’s pronunciation came out as clumsy as any American’s attempt, maybe worse because he was clearly trying to mimic Hong-Wei.

  Ever since the airport, the yearning to connect had been apparent in Simon Lane’s gaze, but now Hong-Wei saw the truth behind the nurse’s longing for what it was, a truth his escort probably didn’t want him to see. He’d come all this way to pick up the new surgeon because he’d been asked, because he was a nice guy… and because he was lonely.

  Without a moment to prepare for the attack, Hong-Wei’s walls crumbled into dust.

  He finished off the first beer and picked up the second, indulging in a long draught. “You may call me Hong-Wei if you like, Simon.”

  Simon smiled so wide it lifted his ears and made his hazel eyes twinkle.

  Losing himself in that smile, Hong-Wei couldn’t remember why, exactly, he shouldn’t pursue a flirtation with his nurse. Something told him the harder he tried to resist Simon Lane, the more he’d be sucked in.

  A relationship wasn’t the adventure he’d come to Copper Point to pursue, and yet every instinct Hong-Wei had told him Simon would be the adventure he ended up taking.

  Chapter Two

  WU HONG-WEI.

  The surgeon’s name rang in Simon’s head as he drove home after dropping Hong-Wei off at his condo. Wu Hong-Wei. All night Hong-Wei had spoken perfect English, but when he said his Taiwanese name in Mandarin, Simon felt a ridiculous thrill.

  Which Simon reminded himself he shouldn’t have. Setting aside the fact that Dr. Wu—Hong-Wei—the new surgeon—was practically his boss, there was the new policy to bear in mind. Even so, Simon still floated as he parked the car and drifted up the path into the house. He shouldn’t think about the man that way, but for tonight at least, he would allow himself to dream.

  Of course,
he needed to be careful how he fantasized. Simon had two roommates, Owen Gagnon and Jared Kumpel, his friends from childhood who were doctors at the hospital. They were also two of the biggest gossips in Copper Point.

  Owen and Jared were home, Jared in the kitchen washing dishes, Owen sprawled in the overstuffed chair with one foot on the ottoman and one on the floor as he surfed his laptop. Owen glanced up over the top of his glasses as Simon came in.

  “The prodigal returns.” Owen removed his glasses and shut his computer. “So, what’s the verdict on the new surgeon?”

  Jared wiped his hands on a towel and waved Simon over. “Come get your dinner first. I held it in the oven for you.”

  “Oh, sorry, I already ate.” Simon toed off his shoes and hung up his jacket, determined not to show any signs of embarrassment. If they saw weakness, they would have no mercy. “I took Dr. Wu somewhere because he was hungry.”

  Owen rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. This means you got more dish on him. Come on. Spill. Is he an arrogant asshole? I mean, to a degree it’s a given. He’s a surgeon.”

  Jared pulled Simon’s plate out of the oven and put the food into a storage container. “I’ve met decent surgeons.”

  “Your definition of decent doesn’t count. You are an arrogant asshole.” Owen gestured impatiently at Simon. “Out with it. What’s he like?”

  Simon sat in the corner of the couch and drew his favorite afghan over his legs. How could he describe Hong-Wei without sounding ridiculous? “He’s a little reserved, though he warmed up after I talked to him for a bit.” He was also slightly aloof in a way Simon hadn’t expected to be so tantalizing. “He didn’t want to go to a fancy restaurant. He wanted to go to a pub-style place.” Simon searched his brain for more information. “He has a sister. He just finished his residency.”

  He told me his real name.

  Jared glanced at Simon, glass and towel in his hand. “I still don’t know why someone would come to Copper Point from Baylor St. Luke’s. Either he’s terrible, or he’s crazy.”

  “Not a chance he’s terrible.” Owen rested his elbow on the armrest and leaned on his hand. “Beckert has been running around bragging about his catch ever since the hire was official.”

  Jared snorted. “He might have seen Baylor on the app and lost his common sense.”

  Simon thought of Hong-Wei, of the cool, confident way he’d handled himself at the airport, how graceful his hands were when doing something as simple as navigating a fork. “I don’t think Dr. Wu is incompetent.”

  “He’s crazy, then.” Jared turned back to the sink. “I guess I don’t care, as long as he gets his work done.”

  “You haven’t told us much about what you thought of him, Simon.” Owen pushed his glasses higher and raised his eyebrows at Simon. “You’re being quite cagey, in fact.”

  Simon deliberately didn’t meet Owen’s gaze. “I think he’s nice. I mean, obviously I don’t know him well. All I did was have dinner with him and drive him home. He was quiet in the car. He was on his phone for a while, and he slept a little.”

  He’d seemed to flirt a few times, but Simon had probably imagined things. At any rate, he wasn’t sharing that.

  Owen looked ready to press for more, so Simon told him the rest. “There’s nothing at his place but the gift baskets everyone dropped off, mostly food and towels and toiletries. I tried to take him to Walmart to get some pillows and a blanket at least, but he didn’t want to go out again, so the building supervisor lent him some.”

  Simon had given Hong-Wei his phone number in case he wanted to go shopping, and Hong-Wei had said he’d definitely be texting him. Simon didn’t share this detail either.

  “The guy does his residency at one of the most prestigious med schools in the country, takes a job at a tiny hospital in a tiny city as far north as you can go without hitting Canada, and shows up without so much as a pillow. Jared’s right. Guy’s nuts.” Sighing in satisfaction, Owen threaded his fingers over his chest, shifting his body so his laptop nearly tipped into the recesses of the chair. “So, that’s settled. Next question. Did we get new hospital eye candy or not?” When Simon hid his face inside the blanket, Owen laughed. “And the answer is yes. Delicious. Are you calling dibs, Si?”

  Popping out of the blanket again, Simon glared at Owen. “Of course I’m not. Andreas is running around waving the no-dating-between-staff-members policy in everyone’s face and making threats.”

  Owen rolled his eyes. “Andreas is full of shit. Nobody’s going to obey his damn edict. It’s an idiotic order, especially in a town this size. The hospital is the number two employer. The odds alone mean people are going to meet their significant others there.”

  “That’s fine for you to say, Owen. There’s no way they’ll fire their only anesthesiologist.”

  Owen opened his laptop. “All I’m saying is you’re a fool if you turn down action with a hot surgeon because Andreas has a bee up his pert little butt.”

  “Maybe you should put something else up Andreas’s butt,” Jared called from the kitchen.

  Owen chucked a throw pillow at Jared, who dodged it neatly.

  Simon’s daydreams about Hong-Wei began as soon as he went to bed. He wondered if Hong-Wei would call him. He imagined a shopping date where Simon helped Hong-Wei pick out furniture, decorations, and other apartment necessities. He got a thrill thinking maybe Hong-Wei would rely on him for all his errand needs, and he pressed his hands to his cheeks, visualizing himself rushing off to help. Hong-Wei would be waiting on the steps of his condo, looking off into the distance with his aloof expression, wind in his hair, wearing highly fashionable clothes. Then he’d see Simon, and his expression would ease.

  Simon Lane, you’re completely, utterly ridiculous.

  It was true, he was, but he fell asleep thinking romantic thoughts all the same, and he woke to his alarm, feeling a bit breathless. He hummed in the shower, and he smiled to himself as he got his lunch ready. Unfortunately he forgot to wipe the expression away before Owen came into the kitchen, and his friend nudged him in the small of his back.

  “You’re giddy. He must have flirted with you.”

  Simon nearly dropped the sandwich he was making. “I— He didn’t.”

  “You stick your tongue out and touch your top lip when you’re lying. He flirted.” Owen popped Simon’s sandwich in its container and touched Simon’s nose with it. “The question is, why are you trying to hide it?”

  Simon brushed Owen’s hand away and reached for the bag of carrots. “I don’t know if he actually did, but yes, I’m attracted to him. Are you happy? Now leave me alone. I need to get ready to go to work.”

  Owen stole one of the carrots Simon put into his vegetable container. “I want to meet him. Do you think he’ll come in to the hospital today?”

  “I wouldn’t know. He didn’t tell me.”

  “He doesn’t have a car. How’s he getting around?”

  “I don’t know.” Though Simon had wondered the same thing, which was why he’d given Hong-Wei his number. One of the reasons he’d shared his number.

  “I suppose his condo is only a few blocks from the hospital. It’s not far from us. On the days you walk to work, you’d pass him. Are you by chance walking to work?”

  Simon glared at Owen. “Why are you so obsessed with this?”

  Owen’s smile made Simon shiver. “Because it’s so interesting. You’re always polite about everything, and the few times you’ve dated, you were so lukewarm you practically yawned. Judging by your reaction to one evening with him, this guy must be so charming he breaks hearts just by walking by.”

  Simon caved. He was going crazy without someone to tell, and it wasn’t as if he could confide in the nurses. “He reminds me of Aaron Yan.”

  Owen frowned. “I don’t know who that is. One of your Asian drama guys, I take it?”

  Putting down the carrots, Simon pulled out his smartphone. When he had a photo—a still from Refresh Man promos—he showed Owen.<
br />
  Owen whistled low. “Hot damn. If you don’t call, Si, I’m going in.”

  Heart skipping a beat, Simon clutched his phone to his chest. “You don’t know he’s gay.”

  “I’ll know pretty damn quick.” Owen raised an eyebrow. “Not going to tell me I can’t try?”

  Simon wanted to tell Owen absolutely not, no way. Even if he wasn’t naturally shy, though, all he could think of was Andreas and his memo. He twisted the carrot bag shut and sealed it with a clip. “I told you. I’m not getting caught up in the no-dating policy.”

  Owen sighed and pushed off the counter. “Whatever. I’m going over in a few minutes. You want a ride?”

  Simon shook his head. “I need to do some shopping after work, so I’m going to drive myself.”

  When Simon arrived at work, every secretary, janitor, home health worker, and nurse wanted to know about the new surgeon.

  “What’s Dr. Wu like?”

  “Did he have a good flight?”

  “Did you take him to dinner? Where did you go? What did he order?”

  “Is he handsome?”

  “Is he married?”

  “Is he young?”

  “Is he nice?”

  “What did you think of him?”

  Simon answered them politely, giving them as few details as possible, especially as they got personal. “Dr. Wu is polite and professional. I believe he’ll be good member of the staff, though I suspect he’ll be exacting and strict.” When they pressed him on the issue, he added, “Yes, he’s handsome. I think he’s in his late twenties, maybe early thirties at the latest. I have no idea if he’s married or not. I don’t think it would be right to ask him.”