What was he scared of? Why did Hong-Wei inspire this reaction in him?
At this point, he wasn’t sure if he was eager to see Hong-Wei on Monday or not, lest his feelings—or fears—get more complicated, but it turned out his relationship with the new surgeon was the least of his workplace worries that day. The real fireworks ended up being between Hong-Wei and Dr. Orth.
Before Dr. Stevens had retired, Simon regularly came in for work Monday through Friday at five thirty in the morning, prepared the operating room, and then assisted throughout the day until it was time to go home. Now his schedule was erratic, depending upon when and if surgeries were scheduled at all. St. Ann’s had lost quite a bit of business since Dr. Stevens’s retirement, though they’d seen fewer and fewer scheduled surgeries for some time before that. Initially, Dr. Stevens had helped fill in some of their gaps, but then he had moved to Florida.
This particular Monday, Simon came to work at six in the morning, and after he prepped the OR, he helped on the main floor since no surgery was scheduled until eleven. To his surprise, he had barely finished his first hourly rounding when Hong-Wei approached him, wearing scrubs and his lab coat.
“Dr. Wu.” Simon threw his gloves into the biohazard bin, using the moment to will his heartbeat to calm down. It would never do to get a thrill simply from making eye contact with the man. “Good morning. How can I help you?”
Hong-Wei passed over a clipboard. “Andreas gave me free rein to commandeer you in order to go over how I want to run things. It’s important to me you and I work well as a surgical team.”
“What happens with the surgeries scheduled today? Who will assist for those?”
“Andreas met with the charge nurse, who arranged for your backup nurse to take your place for the week.”
The backup nurse was Rita Taylor, who Orth openly despised, more than he did Simon. Simon worked to keep his face blank. “Have you informed Dr. Orth of these changes?”
Hong-Wei seemed annoyed. “Not yet. He’s late arriving, so much so that he’s put the surgical schedule in jeopardy. I’ve informed the administration we’ll take on his surgery if he doesn’t appear by ten. It’s a standard gall bladder via scope, so I don’t anticipate trouble taking it on.”
No way would Orth make it by ten. He was routinely late on Mondays, to the point the scheduling staff often told patients later arrival times to compensate. Orth would likely be furious at being end-run.
Though Simon wondered if he should mention this to Hong-Wei, he didn’t have much of a chance as Hong-Wei whisked Simon away to his office—Dr. Stevens’s old office. It was clean and organized, emptied of the trash the visiting surgeons had littered the place with. Now it was tidy, and the shelves were dusted and lined with a few books and binders Stevens had left behind, and some new ones Simon didn’t recognize.
“Some of my things arrived late Friday. I had them shipped directly to the hospital,” Hong-Wei explained. “More are on their way.” He withdrew a binder from the shelf and passed it to Simon. “You can go through a lot of my overall procedures and preferences on your own, but I’d like to go with you personally as we set up this first time, because I’m quite exact about how I want my instruments arranged, and my trays, and I have strong opinions about the lighting of the room. Also, you should know I find I’m most productive if music is playing while I work, especially during longer or difficult surgeries. I ask a tech to change the songs if it comes to that, but I’ll want you to get the music ready. Is this something you feel you can do?”
Music. During surgery. It wasn’t something Simon had ever had a doctor request, and certainly never with this kind of exactness. “I’ll do my best to make things right for you, and if I fail, I’ll work hard to make sure things go smoother the next time.”
“Excellent. I want to start implementing as many of them as possible right away.”
Simon held up his hands, every warning bell going off inside him at once. “Wait—you want to do this now, while the other surgeons are still working?”
The cool mask Hong-Wei had worn when they’d first met at the airport slid into place. “Yes. I can’t imagine it’s a secret to my subordinate surgeons that I’ve arrived. They must be expecting some changes. Nevertheless, how they react to my policies isn’t something you need to concern yourself with. I’ll speak to them in due time, and of course when they’re in surgery, they’ll be able to direct matters to a certain degree, but this is my department now, and they answer to me.”
If Hong-Wei spoke to Orth this way, the odds were good Orth wouldn’t come back to St. Ann’s at all. Does Andreas know about this? Beckert? Owen would tell Simon this was above his pay grade, and Owen was right. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be around to assist in case things got hairy.
The fantasy of rescuing Hong-Wei from anything quickly fell away as Simon scrambled to keep up with his new surgeon. The hospital did have two operating rooms, one dedicated for OB, one for general surgery and any specialty clinic surgeries, which were set up in the afternoons on Wednesdays and Fridays. Hong-Wei didn’t like the idea that he had to share his surgery area with visiting surgeons, so Simon’s first task was figuring out how to keep things for visiting surgeons as separate as possible, and to create a manual for all fill-in nurses so they knew how to put the room back.
Simon didn’t mind slipping into a follower role. It was a relief, frankly, after having to deal with Dr. Stevens’s absentmindedness and inconsistency for so long, to serve under a surgeon who knew exactly what he wanted and what Simon was supposed to do. Before he knew it, he stopped worrying about what the other surgeons would think and what trouble might be coming, and he did as he was told.
This changed when ten o’clock arrived and Dr. Orth hadn’t. Simon broke out of his bubble of calm and tensed, bracing for trouble, but Hong-Wei only calmly ended his orientation and led Simon to the room where the scheduled surgery patient waited.
“You will follow my lead.” Hong-Wei opened the door and entered the room, smiling and extending his hand.
His bedside manner was incredible, especially for a surgeon. Granted, Simon hadn’t encountered a terribly large number—most of them had been at UW-Madison while Jared and Owen finished medical school and their residencies. He’d worked with enough to know they didn’t always have the warmest personalities. Their job was to cut you open and remove or fix the problem, not chat you up. Hong-Wei doled out the charm, distracting the woman from her fears about postoperative pain, promising her the discomfort she’d been feeling because of her gallbladder would be gone and she’d be home with her baby that night. He explained the drugs she’d be given pre- and postoperation, confirmed what Kathryn had already told her about when it would be safe to nurse her baby, and in general was incredibly patient, as if he had all the time in the world for her. When she seemed relaxed, he left her in Simon’s care to get ready for surgery.
“Get her started, then have a tech take over so you can double-check the OR for us, please,” he said as they stepped out in the hall together.
“Yes, Dr. Wu.”
With Hong-Wei in charge, Simon forgot about the impending confrontation and took care of his patient. Even when Hong-Wei left and Simon was in the OR alone doing a last-minute check, Simon was more concerned with making sure he met Hong-Wei’s expectations than he was with whether or not Orth would appear and be upset. When Hong-Wei was in charge, things felt easy and right.
This was only day one of working with him too. Simon felt like he’d won the nursing lottery.
On his way back from the OR, he heard Orth’s angry shouts in the hallway outside of the patient’s room.
Orth stood arguing with the patient tech and Rita, who’d been called down in the confusion and showed up to assist with surgery. “What’s the meaning of this? This is my patient—why is she prepped for surgery when I’m nowhere near ready for her?”
The tech pressed her hands tight against her stomach. “I’m sorry, Dr. Orth, but Dr. Wu said—”
Orth sneered and cut the tech off. “Dr. Wu. He isn’t supposed to start yet, and he’s in here disrupting my OR? I’ll be giving this new guy a piece of my mind. Where is he?”
Before Simon had a chance to move, Orth spotted him and marched over, glaring at him over the tip of his pointed nose. “You. You’re supposed to be the surgical nurse today, but this one”—he pointed to Rita—“tells me she’s been assigned to me instead. Yet here you are. What’s going on?”
Simon braced himself for impact. “I’m assisting Dr. Wu today.”
Orth’s skinny nostrils flared as he aimed a bony finger at the center of Simon’s chest. “Listen here. I don’t care what this wise guy told you. I’m still the surgeon this week, and I’m running this place the way I see fit. This is my patient, my OR, and you’re my nurse. Understand?”
What was Simon supposed to say to Orth? I’m only following Dr. Wu’s instructions would fuel the fire, and abandoning Hong-Wei’s directive would be insulting to the man he did want to obey.
“Is there a problem?”
Simon couldn’t help letting out a small breath of relief. Hong-Wei. He felt the surgeon’s body heat as he walked up behind him, standing so close he almost touched Simon’s body.
Orth curled his lip, running his gaze up and down Hong-Wei. “So you’re the hotshot from Baylor who thinks he can come in here and do whatever he wants in my OR? You’ve got a lot of nerve.”
Hong-Wei tucked his hands behind his back with an icy smile. “You must be Dr. Orth. Hello. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Jack Wu, the new head of surgery at St. Ann’s. I’ve had your schedule rearranged so the two of us can meet later today, but for now you can review some policy changes I have waiting for you in the small conference room upstairs. Since you were delayed, I’m taking over the scheduled surgery this morning. I didn’t want the patient to be inconvenienced.”
Orth turned red and began to sputter. “Listen here, you can’t—”
Hong-Wei glanced at the wall clock and frowned as he put a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “We’re about to run late. Please make sure the patient is still on schedule and move us to the OR.”
Nodding, Simon stepped forward, ready to get the hell out of the confrontation, but Orth immediately blocked him. Simon stiffened as Orth gripped his wrist.
Orth brandished Simon’s arm like a prize. “This is my patient and my nurse.”
Simon held his breath.
Hong-Wei’s gaze narrowed, but otherwise he didn’t react. The more Orth ramped up, the calmer Hong-Wei became. “It’s not a problem if you don’t wish to work under the new rules. I can adjust my schedule to absorb your surgeries and begin this week.”
“You son of a bitch. You think you can waltz in here and run this place? Do you have any idea what a cesspit you’ve signed on for? Now you want to cut off support of the only surgical relief you have? I have to haul ass all the way from Eau Claire to get here. You can’t get surgeons from Ironwood or Duluth because they’re out of state. We’re it. And if I tell them what an ass the new surgeon is, you’re cut off.”
Orth’s grip was now so tight Simon couldn’t help but wince.
Hong-Wei’s stare was flinty, but he spoke quietly. “Please release my nurse so he can do his job.”
Orth jerked Simon closer to him, and Simon lost his ability to keep up a mask and shot Hong-Wei a desperate plea over his shoulder.
Hong-Wei grabbed Orth’s arm, touched something at his elbow, and the next thing Simon knew Orth was backing away, clutching his biceps and glaring.
Simon was, briefly, flush against Hong-Wei’s body, half in an accidental embrace as he stumbled backward into him. For a moment he lingered there, stunned. Blushing, he drew away.
More footsteps sounded behind them—Andreas and Beckert had arrived. Andreas surveyed the scene, regarding Orth coolly. “Dr. Orth. I believe I had Sally call to tell you that since you were running late, we’d rearranged the surgery schedule and you weren’t needed here today.”
Mr. Beckert tugged on the cuffs of his shirt and nodded gruffly at Hong-Wei. “Dr. Wu. My apologies this has kept you from your patient. Please, you and Simon go ahead and continue with the surgery, and we’ll settle things with Dr. Orth.”
Hong-Wei shielded Simon’s body and led him past the sputtering Orth and around the corner, away from the scene. Instead of taking Simon to the patient’s room, he led him into a supply room near the OR. As soon as they were inside the small space, he gently pressed Simon to the wall and locked the door.
“Are you all right?”
Breathless, dizzy, Simon glanced up at Hong-Wei. Oh, he was so close. So handsome. Simon could still feel the ghost of the heat of Hong-Wei’s chest against his back, that temporary feeling of being cradled. Now Hong-Wei stood in front of him, one arm braced against the brick as he leaned in close, his face full of concern.
Simon ached for him. He knew he shouldn’t, knew he couldn’t, but in that narrow space, with the object of his affection a literal breath away, there was no way to stop himself.
Especially when Hong-Wei lifted his hand to stroke Simon’s face. Nothing more than a brief, lingering brush, but Simon shuddered all the same, his lips parting on a gasp as he stared, caught in Hong-Wei’s gaze.
“I’m sorry I got you involved.” Hong-Wei rested his hand on Simon’s elbow. “Are you hurt?”
Unable to make a sound, Simon shook his head. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look away.
Simon chided himself for letting his fantasies run amok. Hong-Wei was simply checking on him after an intense encounter. Any second now he’d smile, release Simon, and they’d go to the OR for surgery.
Except Hong-Wei didn’t smile, and he didn’t let him go. If anything, he moved closer. His smell engulfed Simon: spice, crisp linen, and Hong-Wei. Simon’s hands itched to fall to Hong-Wei’s hips, and he had to ball his fists, resting them on his thighs so he didn’t reach out. Hong-Wei leaned closer, his lab coat draping around them as his arm bent against the wall. His gaze never left Simon’s.
Wu is into you.
Simon couldn’t exactly argue with Jared’s assessment any longer. The question was, what did he want to do about it?
Never mind, that wasn’t a question. Simon wanted him like he’d wanted nothing in his life. But he didn’t know if he should have him. Not the doctor he worked with. Not with Andreas’s policy hanging over his head.
What he should do was an easy answer. Funny how knowing that didn’t motivate him to move at all.
Hong-Wei touched Simon’s cheek again, stroking with more purpose this time, his thumb scraping Simon’s chin, lingering on his neck. “Should I stop?”
Such a terrible thing to do, to make him choose. And yet how like Hong-Wei. Should and want became tangled in Simon’s heart, a snarl turning over and over. Should they stop? Yes, probably. Did Simon want to? No. He wanted this so much. He wanted this strange, wonderful moment where, after charging in like a surgical white knight, the new doctor whisked Simon away into a closet and kissed him.
The want swelled until it lifted Simon’s hands, settling them on Hong-Wei’s shoulders. “I don’t… we shouldn’t, but… I want….”
Hong-Wei’s knees brushed against Simon’s, his hand that wasn’t cradling Simon’s face drawing Simon’s body closer. “I want you, Simon.”
Simon clung tight to Hong-Wei, compensating for his legs, which had abruptly turned to jelly. “I don’t want to lose my job. I don’t want to make things awkward in the OR.” He shifted his hands so they skimmed the lapels of Hong-Wei’s coat. “But I want this.” His pulse pounded in his ears as he said the words, and he scarcely recognized himself. He tamped down the fear that threatened to rise and make him doubt himself, and pressed forward. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Probably it’s not. But right now, just this once, I want to do what I’m not supposed to do.”
The look on Hong-Wei’s face wasn’t quite surprise. It was as if something in the last part of Simon’s c
onfession had caught the edge of his heart. Hong-Wei cupped Simon’s face gently with his hands.
“I’ll protect you, always. As a doctor, as a friend, as….”
As a lover hung unspoken in the air between them.
Simon shut his eyes, waiting.
The kiss was soft at first, a tease at his bottom lip, until Simon opened and let him in. Then it quickened, tongues tangling deeper as hands drew bodies closer. When Simon gasped as fingers curled into the sensitive hairline at the back of his neck, his cry was swallowed, absorbed into the kiss. Simon mapped the hard sides of Hong-Wei’s body as Hong-Wei ran a hand beneath the hem of his scrubs, seeking skin.
Hong-Wei broke the kiss enough to speak against Simon’s mouth. “We need to get to the OR.”
Simon nodded in agreement, gasping as Hong-Wei’s hand dipped inside his waistband to tease the flesh of his hip.
Panting as he sought his breath, Hong-Wei pressed his forehead to Simon’s. Simon shut his eyes, willing the moment to last a little longer. Every part of him felt alive. He wanted more. He needed more.
Why in the world had he said just this once?
Hong-Wei drew back, nuzzling Simon’s nose. With a sigh, he shifted from amorous to professional mode, smoothing first Simon’s and then his own clothes. “Our patient is waiting.”
Simon was so dizzy he didn’t think he could stand. “Hong-Wei.” His voice came out a whispered plea. Except he had no idea how he should beg for what he wanted.
Hong-Wei adjusted Simon’s badge. “I’ll go ahead to the OR and tell them you’ll be along shortly. Take your time.”
Unlocking the door, he slipped out of the room.
For several seconds, Simon stared at the place where Hong-Wei had disappeared. Then he slid to the floor.
HONG-WEI HADN’T meant to kiss Simon yet.
He’d had a plan for how to woo Simon. It involved long, drawn-out courting, some slow-build flirting, and then, when the timing was right, he’d invite Simon into a discreet relationship that wouldn’t upset the hospital policy. Instead, here he was, making out with Simon in a closet when he should have been scrubbing in for surgery.
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