Hardball

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Hardball Page 24

by V.K. Sykes

Holly hurried to the ambulance bay to call Katie Canizaro. The resident had paged her while she was inside with Nate.

  “Sorry to have to bother you, Dr. Bell,” Canizaro said as soon as Holly got her on the line. “I thought you should know that Lance Arnold has been on a rampage since he got here this afternoon.”

  Great. This day surely sucked. “What’s going on?”

  “I was checking on Tyler when he came in, and he asked me how he was doing. I said that if he kept improving every day like he’d been doing lately, then we might be able to do his valve replacement sooner than we’d thought. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, Arnold went postal on me.”

  “I’m not surprised. He’s still adamant that we not do the surgery.” Arnold had been railing at her and all the staff constantly as Tyler slowly recovered. Despite his persistent demands that the boy be discharged, Holly—backed by Dr. Rosen—had refused. She feared letting the boy out of her sight. At PCH, he’d be cared for until he was strong enough for the surgery. But if he were sent home, who could even guess what would happen?

  “He’s been swearing and yelling at everybody, not just me,” Canizaro said in a worried voice. “Under the circumstances, we don’t want to have to call security. But there’s only so much the staff can be expected to take, Dr. Bell.”

  Holly hesitated a moment, then made a decision. “Look, I can be back at the hospital in a couple of hours. Maybe even less. Put everything on hold for now, and I’ll come by and talk to him myself if he’s still around.” Though I’d rather dance a waltz with a grizzly bear.

  Her resident’s relief washed through the phone. “That’d be great, Dr. Bell. Thanks. I’ll make sure security is close by, just in case.”

  Holly didn’t relish the thought of having to deal with Arnold, especially at a time when she should be focusing on Nate. But Tyler had to come first, and she could at least spend the evening at Nate’s place.

  She shoved her phone in her purse and headed to the hospital cafeteria. Sitting down with a tea, she tried to mentally sort through the situation with Arnold. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation, and she wasn’t sure how soon Tyler would be up to the surgery, despite her cautious optimism. A half hour spent approaching the problem from several different angles failed to yield any other result than a growing frustration. Sighing, she finally gave up trying to solve the problem and quickly finished her now-cold tea.

  By the time she returned to the ER, Nate’s shoulder had been taped and his arm was angled in a sling. He was standing up, apparently joking with two nurses since they were laughing. Holly wasn’t surprised to see the women gravitating to Nate like steel to a super magnet.

  “Ready to go, Romeo?” She tossed the little barb at him, ignoring the nurses.

  He gave her a wicked grin. “Hey, I was starting to enjoy myself here.”

  The younger nurse giggled, acting like it was the funniest thing she’d heard in years. Holly wanted to throttle her, which made her even more irritated that she allowed it to bother her so much.

  But she managed to keep her mouth closed when the young nurse smiled flirtatiously at Nate. “Everyone here wanted to make sure you got the very best treatment, Nate.”

  Repressing the unladylike urge to bare her teeth, Holly slipped her hand inside Nate’s good arm. “Well, you certainly seem to be feeling better, don’t you?” she asked in a sugary-sweet, southern accent. “So, let’s go. I want to get you home and in bed.”

  Nate threw her a startled if amused glance. “Now you’re talking, Doctor,” he said. “But we have to stop and get a prescription filled on the way.”

  Holly sighed. “Let’s just get you settled at home, then I’ll get it filled at the PCH pharmacy. I have to go over there for a few minutes, anyway.”

  “Another crisis?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Less than an hour later, Holly had settled Nate in his apartment and was ready to leave for PCH. Nate’s cheery mood—which she knew had been forced—had quickly worn off and he’d grown positively grumpy. The pain had to be much worse than he was admitting.

  “Look, sweetie,” she said as she helped him lower himself onto his big leather couch, “I really do have to go to the hospital and talk to the father of one of my patients. But call me immediately if you have any problems. I can be back here in a few minutes.”

  “Go. I’ll be fine,” he said, wincing as he shifted his body so he could reach the TV remote. “Jesus, it’s starting to hurt like hell, though.”

  Damn, she hated to have to leave him, but there wasn’t a lot she could do for him right now, anyway. He needed quiet and sleep.

  She took the remote out of his hand. “And forget the TV. You need to sleep. Doctor’s orders.” She put the remote on the fireplace mantel, out of his reach.

  “Cruel witch.” He tried to force a grin, but grimaced in pain instead.

  She bent and gave him a kiss. “I’ll be back as fast as I can. Just try to get some rest.” Casting one last worried glance over her shoulder, she closed the door behind her and jogged down the hall to the elevator.

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