Destroy (A Standalone Romance Novel) (9 page)

“Oh yes. He’s about six
feet, dark brown hair, like his eyes. He is muscular and well put together, I
tell you. Besides which, his leather jacket and tailored slacks were not
el-cheapo stuff out of Walmart, either.”

“Sounds like he’s the
antithesis of our Dr. Clemens, in appearance at least,” I remarked.

As the word fell out of
my mouth, we heard Dr. Kerry recall us to attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt,
Doctors, but”—Tiffany and I turned in our chairs—“I’d like to introduce you to
your resident surgeon, Dr. Jeff Aldridge.”

And yes, there he was in
the flesh. My heart beat a drum in my chest. I thought I was going to faint
from shock. My one-night-stand, my dream lover, my Mr. Drop-Dead-Gorgeous was
looking at me looking at him. For a fraction of a second, my eyes averted his
gaze. I could have hid under the table.

Chapter
9

Truly, this was too much
of a coincidence. For a moment, I wondered if Dr. Aldridge had a twin that
still lived somewhere upstate New York. He was staring at me staring at him.
For a fraction of a second, I thought he was going to address me directly. My
mouth closed slowly as I turned away. Seeing my face–pale as a sheet
probably–Tiffany asked, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen death walk
over him.”

“I’m fine, Tiff. It must
be drinking cold coffee that doesn’t agree with me.”

Tiffany returned her gaze
to look at Jeff. I didn’t.

He was saying, “As Doctor
Kerry must have told you earlier, I won’t be working directly with each of you
for another month. In the meantime, you’ll have a chance to observe the various
procedures our surgeons perform every day in this hospital. Most of the time,
you’ll be attending or watching the procedures from the enclosures overlooking
each theater. I know you’ve seen a couple of interventions already, so you’re
familiar with the two-way sound system in each of the booths. From time to
time, when you’re attending one of the procedures I will perform, I will be
shouting questions at you. You’ll then have time to answer. These questions
will just serve as a little refresher quiz. But don’t worry, I’m not going to
give you a hard time or mark your responses. I’ll give you hell afterwards,
though!”

Eleven interns broke in
loud laughter, while I didn’t even turn my head to him. I was sure he was
staring at me again. I felt his eyes on my profile. I knew he recognized me.
It’s not like we were wearing masks and gowns. He was probably trying to
attract my attention. I didn’t want to succumb to his demanding gaze. In the
meantime, I felt as if my world came crashing down around me. I really didn’t
want to have anything to do with the man anymore. It had been a delightful
interlude; a fantastic night to remember, but nothing more should come out of
it, certainly not now, not ever, actually.

When everyone settled
down, Dr. Kerry told us that as soon as we finished our coffee we would need to
get into the scrub room and change into our surgical gowns. She added that the
nurses would help each one of us to slip into the garments and that at no time
should we ever touch anything with our hands once they’re washed. “Use your
elbows, your hips, knees or even noses if you wish to open or close a door, but
do not use your hands. If you do, you’ll have to go over the whole process
again. Understood?”

I felt like shouting,
“Yes, ma’am!” but said nothing and just nodded in acknowledgement.

It took all of us a good
fifteen minutes to slip into the surgical gowns and slippers. As for the cap,
the girls had to wear a paper-like net around their heads. The nurses showed us
how to get every strand of hair under the net before they led us to the sinks
to wash our hands, wrists and forearms–up to the elbows. Still dripping wet,
from that moment on, our hands were not to touch a single thing until the
gloves came on. It felt as if I was thoroughly isolated from every speck of
dust that might have floated about the place and as if no bug of any sort could
ever reach me in this get-up.

We then filed into the
operating theater. It was one of the larger ones in Jeff’s “dungeon”. The
patient had arrived a few minutes before. The man was talking to Jeff and the
nurses as if they were old friends. Maybe they were? When Dr. Kerry closed the
door and came to stand beside us, she nodded to Jeff. He was ready to start the
procedure. The patient was drifting away into dreamland while the
anesthesiologist put a mask over his mouth and nose. This procedure concerned
the repair of a torn ligament in the man’s thigh after an accident at work. He
apparently slipped and fell against an old panel and sliced his leg muscle and
ligaments.

Two-by-two, we were
allowed to come close to the table and view the operation in its every detail.
Jeff was intent on what he was doing. I remember thinking at the time that a
gorilla could have stood across the table from him, it wouldn’t have made one
ounce of difference. The amazing thing about viewing an operation on a living,
breathing human being, as opposed to a corpse, is that you can see the blood
flowing everywhere through the open cavity. There is a constant need for
“suction” and “clamps” to stop a hemorrhagic episode that would cost the
patient’s life in a matter of seconds.

Jeff was not talking; he
wasn’t joking; he was not doing anything else than attending to the repair of
this man’s leg. His precision and attention to the smallest detail showed his
expertise. I had to admire him. Never mind our “common past”, the man I saw
working on this human being was to be admired and respected for his exquisite
craft.

Two hours later, it was
all done. We had attended our first operation up-close-and-personal, as it
were. I was impressed and so was Tiffany. She couldn’t stop talking about every
step of the procedure. She was totally into it. As for me, let’s say I was halfway
there. The fact that it was Jeff on the other side of the table distracted me,
whether I liked it or not. He encumbered my thoughts. And I didn’t like it.

We were taking our gowns
off and slipping the hairnet off our heads when I saw Jeff come in the scrub
room. He didn’t say anything but our eyes met. I turned red as a beetroot and
quickly turned toward the washroom. Tiffany took the time to congratulate him
and thank him for a fantastic demonstration of dexterity. I didn’t hear the
rest of what they said and was grateful for Tiffany’s chatty mouth.

The rest of the morning
was spent in between attending two more surgical procedures from the enclosed
viewing room above the theaters. Jeff performed one of the operations while
another doctor – an oncology surgeon apparently – performed the other. We then
rejoined our first patient–the man with the sliced ligaments in ICU while he
was waking up.

He didn’t recognize any
of us, of course, and was visibly taken aback to see a dozen doctors standing
about the room or surrounding his bed. He smiled and asked Dr. Kerry where Dr.
Aldridge was.

“He’ll be coming up as
soon as he’s done repairing someone else’s injured limb,” she joked. “Don’t
worry; he’ll be along any minute now.”

And I silently wished I
would be somewhere else when he would come in.

As he did, I tucked
myself away in the farthest corner of the room where I was almost sure he
wouldn’t look at me or even question me. Yet, I was wrong. His eyes soon found
me and focused on me. He smiled briefly while I cringed. Tiffany pulled on the
sleeve of my lab coat. I bent down to hear what she wanted to say.

“What’s the matter with
you? The man is smiling at you and all you can do is grimace? You and I better
have a talk–and soon.”

I couldn’t argue with her
at that moment. Besides, she was right, I was behaving very strangely. Trying
to hide from him wasn’t going to work. The only thing I would accomplish by
doing so was to risk my career. And Jeff Aldridge wasn’t worth it. No one was,
truth be told.
 
  

When lunchtime came
around, I was famished. Tiffany and I made a beeline for the café terrace on
the top floor of the building. The fall days were not upon us yet, so we still
had some sunshine to enjoy. We got a tossed salad each, some cheese and a few
crackers. For dessert, we each had some fruit and Tiffany got herself a small
cut of gelato ice cream. We both made a dash for the only empty table under a
parasol and plopped down in our seats.

As we began eating, Tiffany
opened the conversation with, “So, what’s up with you and
Dr.
Hottie
with a nice body
?”

I thought I was going to
choke on a slice of radish. I giggled my way into a blurted lie. “Nothing
really. I guess…”

“Don’t give me that crap,
Hattie. I know the signs. You’ve met him somewhere before, haven’t you?”

“Okay, okay, yes, we’ve
met.” I stopped there. I wasn’t sure yet if I wanted to spill the beans to my
new friend.

“And then what happened?”

“Nothing,” I continued
lying.

“Please, Hattie, don’t
cast me in the role of the circus clown. Something happened between the two of
you, didn’t it?”

I chewed on a leaf of
lettuce and a slice of tomato concertedly, weighing the consequences of my
revealing our secret night to Tiffany. Finally I decided to come out with it.

“Okay, Tiff, I am going
to tell you the whole truth, nothing but the truth, but you’ve got to promise
me not to breathe a word of this to anyone. Promise?”

“Alright, I promise. Who
am I going to talk to anyway? All of the interns are from someplace else. Apart
from you, I really don’t know any of the others. So, you don’t have to worry.
I’ll have a padlock on my lips.”

“Right,” I said, smiling
at my new friend. Yes, Tiff was going to be a good friend of mine, I decided.
Besides, once you’ve revealed anything of your intimate life to another person,
that person better be or become a friend or you’re in deep trouble. “It was the
week before Christmas. I promised to visit my parents for the holidays. As it
happened, the night I was due to board the flight to Omaha, a storm saw me
stranded at the airport. I couldn’t find a hotel to stay–no room at the inn
sort of thing. That’s when Jeff Aldridge proposed sharing a suite with him. We
just had a casual chat in the departure lounge as people do in these circumstances,
and I didn’t see any harm in accepting his offer–much better prospect than the
one I was looking at. Sleeping on a carpeted floor isn’t my thing. Besides,
with a suite, he could close his bedroom door and I would have the pull-out
couch all to myself.”

“And did you?” Tiffany
asked. “I mean did you spend the night on the couch?”

I shook my head and
lowered my gaze in my near empty salad bowl.

“You didn’t!” Tiffany
exclaimed as quietly as she could. “You slept with Dr.
Hottie
?
Good God, Hattie…I never…I mean I never imagined.”

“Imagined what?”

“
That,
that
you would fall for him.”

“Come on, Tiff. You’ve
seen him. You yourself call him
Dr.
Hottie
. What if he offered you to share a suite with
him when there’s nothing else in town but the airport floor; what would you
do?”

“I guess I would share
the suite. But how did he manage to get you in his bed?”

“He didn’t manage
anything, Tiff. I was truly seduced. No question about it. I fell for the guy hook,
line, and sinker. You have to admit, he’s hard to resist, isn’t he?”

Tiffany nodded and then
smiled. “You brat! You’re really something, you know. But I must say you two
are a perfect match.”

“What are you talking
about? There’s no match here. No relationship–nothing. It was a night of hot
sex and that was all it was.”

“If that’s true, why are
you avoiding him or even averting your gaze from his eyes. You are acting as if
you’re an “ex-something”, not just an acquaintance or a passing fling. You’ve
been bitten, I tell you. And I’m not surprised. The guy is totally
irresistible–as hot as they come, for sure.”

All I could do was to
drink my juice quietly. I knew Tiffany was right. Jeff Aldridge had left a very
long scar on my heart, no use denying it.

As we both sat pensive,
Corey Walker came to our table.

“Doctors,” he said, “do
you mind if I sit down with you two?” He didn’t wait for our answer and just
took a seat. His tray was filled with everything I didn’t want to eat–ever.
Hamburger, fries, milkshake and even a piece of apple pie do not make for a
healthy staple diet in my book. What’s more, the guy was a doctor. He should
have known better.

He noticed my gaze
traveling over his tray.

“Never mind, Doctor
Williams, I enjoy a hamburger once in a while, like any red-blooded, American
man. As long as I don’t make a habit of it, I’ll be fine. Besides, after a morning
as boring as the one we’ve just had, I thought a little “pick-me-up” was in
order.”

“Did you really say,
“Boring”?” Tiffany inquired, goggle-eyed. “I thought it was very interesting
myself. Seeing that sort of delicate surgery on a man’s leg was quite
impressive I thought.”

“Well, not really my cup
of tea. I am here only to learn about the hospital’s inner workings. That’s
all.”