Abruption (45 page)

“Anything for Miss Lili. You tell me if those kidza misbehave. I fix ‘em good!”

I’m not sure what I loved more, Jorge’s Spanglish or that he blew me a kiss every day.

Coffee-less, I crossed the street, zig-zagging between the half dozen cars lined up in front of the hospital parking garage. You could set your watch by hospital shift changes. From outside, it looked like a hockey line switch. Fast and precise, without game interruption. It was just missing sex on skates.

If I weren’t OCD about being on time, I would have dilly-dallied a little longer. It was seriously gorgeous out—one of those days when the sky was so crystal clear it looked fake, and the air was so crisp you wished you could bottle it. I couldn’t fill my lungs enough. It was a perfect beach day. But not today. Today duty called. I headbanded my hair with my wide framed sunglasses and pushed through the revolving doors. The hospital was already buzzing, and it was obscenely early.

My vibrating side interrupted my autopilot trek toward the elevators. I reached into the depths of a seriously oversized bag to find the damn thing.

“Hey, everything okay?” I finally answered.

“Hey, Asspuck. How’s it going so far? Did you meet him yet?”

“Sierra, are you for real? Why are you awake and what possessed you to call me so early?” My best friend didn’t do early—EVER. Uneasiness settled in the pit of my stomach. “Everything okay with the baby?”

“Don’t worry, the baby’s totally fine, kicking the crap out of me and wreaking havoc on my body, but great. Lil, you need to see my boobs, they’re like a road map with green lines everywhere ... and you’re gonna love this-”

“Um, Sier? I’m at work, can this wait?” I tried to whisper since there was a cluster of people waiting with me at the elevator.

“A hemorrhoid. A. Fucking. Hemorrhoid.” She had no shame. “It’s so disgusting. Don’t get me wrong, I love being pregnant, and I knew my body would take a serious hit, but I never expected a baboon ass.”

I sucked back the snort that threatened to escape from my nose while I pushed the button for my floor.

“You’re a freak!” That was an understatement. And why I loved her. All five feet of her. Sierra had more personality in her left calf than anyone I’d ever met and was not afraid to show it. If she were any taller, it wouldn’t be fair to the female race. Slim but blessed with top curves and Neutrogena fair skin.

“Are you really calling me at the crack of dawn to tell me about this little discovery? Where’s Dodd? Shouldn’t you be sharing your woes of pregnancy with that hunky husband of-”

“Umm, who do you think found it? I sure as fuck wasn’t the one down there investigating.”

Too much information.

“Gross. My eyes hurt. I could’ve done without that visual.” I chuckled so hard I didn’t have a prayer of holding back a snort this time. So much for being discreet on a crowded elevator.

Sierra was beyond comfortable talking about all things sex, and if there was a gene responsible for embarrassment, she was congenitally deficient. No detail was too personal. For as cosmopolitan as she played it, Sierra was blessed with diarrhea of the mouth within her intimate circle. A circle that started and ended with me since we were seven years old.

“Honestly, you need more than a visual, you need a freakin’ tutorial. Just saying. Maybe it’s time to mount the horse again-”

“You need serious help,” I quipped while shaking my head.

Time to change the topic. That didn’t mean she was wrong. She was more right than I would admit. Sierra knew enough about my past not to push the issue, but I appreciated her brutal honesty. It came from a good place.

“Anyway, I really called to remind you ‘bout tonight and make sure you don’t let the new guy get your panties in a bunch. He’s supposedly a real ball of sunshine. So since your day’s basically gonna suck, just look forward to happy hour instead.”

“And this is making me feel better how? Wait. How do you know about him?” I balanced my cell in the crook of my neck and pushed my office door open. I lucked out; I didn’t have to share my office like the six other case managers did. In reality, it was a converted storage closet attached to the security office, but it served its purpose.

“Dodd was at the hospital yesterday working on an endowment contract, and he said all the nurses couldn’t shut up about the new guy. I meant to call you last night, but placenta brain took over.”

Basically, a brain surgeon and a dick was what she was saying.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Who are you kidding? It wouldn’t matter if he was Mr. Rogers, you’d still be running to the bathroom all morning. Is it sick and twisted that I’m jealous? Bet you’re feeling skinny.”

“Sierra. Do me a favor and just stop talking.” She knew me too well.

“You know I’m right. You’re awesome at your job, and sure, it sucks you have to start from scratch every month with all new people, but whatever. You’ll have your shit figured out by noon and then you’ll be back to saving the world. It probably works in your favor. You totally thrive under pressure. And tonight you get to pig out on Rosa’s guacamole and not worry about gaining a pound ‘cause you made plenty of
room
. Bitch! I’m jealous!”

“Just. Stop. Talking.”

“Fine. I’ll see your skinny ass at six-thirty. Wa-hoo, favorite night of the month!” She sounded entirely too bubbly for this hour.

“Of course I’ll be there. Now can I go to work?” My huff was half-hearted at best.

“Fine, you’re no fun, but if there are any hotties on your team this month, I’m gonna want details. Your eyes still work, right? Even if your vagina’s sealed shut by now.”

“I’m hanging up now. Go gestate or something, see ya tonight.”

I ended the call and dropped my stuff in a desk drawer. The clock read 6:20. Sierra was right. I was all twisted for no reason. Much like the night before the first day of school, anticipation was the killer. Once you got there, you realized it was pretty much the same story, different day.

My actual job stayed the same every month, just the characters changed. I was good at it too, despite the fact it had little to do with social work. And technically, I didn’t need to play into the hierarchical ass-kissing that the residents did, but the whole vibe still affected me. Everything depended on the team. Basically a mishmosh of ambitious personalities dictated the tone of the month. Some months it worked, some months it sucked. Either way, a margarita and killer tacos waited for me on the flip side of the day.

The nurses’ station was quiet when I got there. Rounds didn’t start for another five minutes, so I booted up my tablet and checked email. Suddenly a strong nudge to my hip sent me flying. My left foot jetted out to stop myself from face planting. I blushed from the near miss and glanced up to a familiar cocky smile and a pair of dimples to die for.

“Two rotations in a row, how’d I get so lucky?” Dr. Guy Hunter said in his raspy voice and tilted his head to the side.

“Hey you! I thought you were going to plastics this month.” My voice jumped two octaves, and my grin reached halfway up to my eyes.

“Sorry, doll. You’re stuck with me again!”

As if.
Stuck was not the word I would use.

My feet wanted to break into a happy dance. Guy was a kickass third year surgery resident who I was lucky enough to work with a few times—last month on pediatrics being the most recent. He was one part arrogant, two parts awesome and looked like he stepped out of a California surf magazine. His disheveled blonde hair was a little on the long side, with slightly darker roots screaming for a little sunshine. He had to be a solid six feet and he fell in the lean and toned category. His face and arms were lightly tanned. I only imagined what he would look like if he didn’t work eighty-five hours a week and actually had the chance to see the light of day. His pale blue scrubs fell loose and low on his hips and he wore burnt orange crocs. He epitomized laidback and even slipped in a “dude” from time to time. No question, he was good looking. Add in the ocean blue eyes and the dimples, and he was more like hurt-your-eyes good looking. But what made him awesome was that he was one of the smartest residents in the surgery program with a great bedside manner. By third year most of the residents had adopted cocky and started trying out different styles of arrogant. Not Guy, he was grounded and his patients adored him, especially the women whose panties seemed to melt when he flashed his dimple.

Let’s not forget charming. And although I wasn’t into him like that, or anyone for that matter, I wasn’t immune. He spoke fluent flirt, but his dialect was never offensive or distasteful. The way all the nurses looked at him, I’d bet money he was the lead in more than a few NC-17 daydreams. Oscar-worthy, no less.

Don’t get me wrong, if I were to consider abandoning my no-dating-at-work policy, hell, my no-dating-in-general policy, Dr. Hunter probably would have made the shortlist. But we were just friends. I was in no way ready to open myself up to anyone again, so I could just enjoy all things Guy. And there was a lot to enjoy.

“Switched with Martin. He loves that plastics shit, and I’d rather not waste a month doing facelifts and fucking boob jobs. Why? You sick of me yet?”

My grin felt permanently stitched on my face. “You kidding? That’s awesome, I’m psyched.” This news made my morning take a serious turn for the better.

“So you want me to run the list with you?” He reached for my tablet and accidentally grazed my side. Knowing Guy, it was probably not an accident.

He tapped the screen and the list of patients on the neuro service opened. The bottom right side of the screen glowed 6:38. The nurses’ station was still empty. The whole floor was empty.

“Where is everyone, what about rounds? When did it become okay to
not
be on time? Did I miss the memo somewhere?” My brain-to-mouth filter temporarily malfunctioned. “That’s really kind of ballsy for an intern, on the first day, no less. And he might be the attending, but it’s his first day too. What happened to professionalism? Hell, I’m only the case manager and I’m here on time. Forget that, I was early
and
latte-less.”

Guy struggled to contain his smirk. My uncharacteristic little tirade must have seriously amused him. Damn nervous energy, it needed a release and I chose now for some god-forsaken reason.

“Umm, we rounded about forty minutes ago.” The words had no sooner left his mouth when the rumble below fired and my blouse suctioned to my armpits. Time for new deodorant.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry, doll. I covered for ya.” Guy palmed my shoulder, which had zero effect in the calming department.

“Why didn’t anyone page me?” This made no sense.

“The new guy Colton wanted to be a dick and show off his first day as chief. He paged at five to get us all in early. I remembered you said you needed your alarm on some crazy max volume, so I figured you didn’t hear it. It was a bullshit move on his part anyway.”

He was right about the pager, it could have been a cricket in New Jersey. It had no chance of waking me up.
He remembers that?

“I can’t believe you remembered that, but you should have called me!” That was dumb, Guy didn’t have my number. I didn’t have his either. We weren’t at that level yet. Shit. “Did anyone notice I wasn’t at rounds?” I rubbed my forehead and pinched my eyebrow. What did he say his name was, Colton? The last thing I needed was an arrogant brain surgeon thinking I was lazy on day one.

“Really, don’t sweat it. I told him one of the kids on peds broke your pager yesterday.” He flashed his dimples, and I suddenly felt a pang of guilt for being bitchy. It wasn’t Guy’s fault I needed a weapon of mass destruction to wake me and I slept through the page. “And be happy you got a few extra minutes of sleep and got to miss the lion pissing-on-his-territory display this morning.” He let out a deep chuckle. “I’m not a hundred percent, but I’m pretty sure the new intern, Petit, shit his pants. It was fucking ugly.”

His full out belly laugh sliced right through my mood and I couldn’t help but join him. His laugh was infectious, even ... sexy.

“That bad, huh?”

“Don’t be surprised if Sam Petit’s scrubs don’t match when you see him.”

Guy was handsome
and
funny.

“Poor kid, that really stinks. I hope he’s not in my office crying all day like that intern last year. The one that wound up quitting month two—remember him?”

“Don’t feel bad for him.” The dimples disappeared and one-part arrogant took over. “Fuck that, I don’t feel bad for any of them. We all did it. Hell-” Guy looked me straight in the face as his other two-thirds finished, “and I definitely didn’t have a beautiful shoulder like yours to cry on. As I recall, peds wasn’t sharing you back then.”

Did he really just say that?

“Be careful what you say, you wouldn’t want anyone to hear that tough Guy Hunter cried like a baby as an intern.” I stepped back, breaking eye contact and letting some air back into the suddenly tight atmosphere. He flirted with all things female; it meant nothing. It was time for a change in subject. “So the new guy’s an ass. That’s what you’re saying, huh?”

“Pretty much, but that’s his issue. I couldn’t give two shits if he wants to be a dick. As long as he’s as good in the OR as they say he is, and he teaches me what I need to know to get a fellowship, I’ll play the stupid game and kiss ass. I don’t care.”