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Focus, Luce. Focus.
To avoid being strangled by the potency of his liquored-laced breath and her sad memories, Lucy inhaled through her mouth as she pressed on the man’s stomach. “Okay, Mr. Patient. I need to ask you some basic questions.”
“No. Fix me first! I ain’t answering anything you stupid—”
“That’s enough. I’ve been more than patient with you.” Lucy slammed her hands next him, making the bed momentarily shake. “If you’re going to be jerk about it then we’ll just let Marietta’s finest take it from here. Officer Adams?”
“I told you, I ain’t scared of Adams.”
Brett smirked. “Fair enough. I guess I could call—”
“D-d-don’t call Tate. Or Shaw.” As cocky as the man had been, his demeanor immediately turned one-eighty as he played with the shiny ring on his finger.
The staff members’ eyes widened with amusement.
“Guess he has met Marietta’s finest.” Brett handed paperwork over to Poppy, who paused and glanced at the patient again. “Said he swerved to miss an elk and hit a tree. No ID. No car registration.”
“Because that doesn’t scream illegal activity at all.” Poppy rolled her eyes.
“There was an elk I tell you. Huge! Ginormous.” Mr. Obnoxious snarked, “I’m pretty sure there was an elk. Or maybe it was a rabbit. Could have been a snowman.”
He sang the off tune version of the holiday favorite, “Frosty the Snowman”, moving his arms randomly along with the song, a new layer of aromas floated off him. The hard stench of sweetened nicotine and dried blood mixed with the booze and sweat.
The wicked combination hit Lucy in the face, making her stomach twist and threaten to protest.
“You okay, Dr. Davidson?” Ethan’s forehead furrowed. “You look a little green.”
She waved her hand in the air in front of her while she struggled to keep her fury at bay. The quicker she was out of here, the less chance she’d say something to ruin her chances of keeping this job during her first ninety-day probationary period. “I’m good. He’s not guarding or grimacing. Let’s get back to that elk, sir.”
“What elk?” The patient yawned. His yellowed teeth sat slightly crooked.
She ran her finger along his chin and bottom teeth. “Doesn’t appear to have any loose, cracked, or missing teeth. The animal you swerved to avoid hitting, sir.”
He held his hands wide. “Right. Elk. Maybe a beaver. It was a big ole son o’ bitch.”
“Patient freely and purposely moves his arms without difficulty or guarding. Chest moves evenly, no step-offs. No difficulty with work of breathing.” She pulled her purple stethoscope out of her pocket again, reassessing his lungs and then his abdomen. “Lungs clear, no crackles, rubs, or crepitus. Bowel sounds are normal. I’m sure the animal in question was enormous, sir.”
Ethan’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Got it.”
After she pulled away, a mischievous twinkle flashed in the patient’s eyes as a sly smirk spread across his bloodied face. He slid his hand over his crotch and cupped. “That’s not the only thing that’s enormous, sweet cheeks.”
The sexism gets old. “You should write greeting cards.”
A snicker from Poppy, Amanda, and Ethan helped lessen her annoyance, but the man’s arrogance sliced at her already exhausted, raw nerves.
If I had a dollar for every gross sexual comment that’s been made to me over the years, I wouldn’t need to work as a doctor.
She looked at the wall clock. Six-fifty.
Is Dr. Clark my replacement? I can’t remember.
“What’d I miss?” The deep voice of Dr. Thomas McAvoy tickled her ears before she noticed him.
When she turned, he smiled at her, making her stomach feel as though it had been filled with anxious butterflies.
He looked fresh shaven and bright-eyed.
How does he even look that good? He’s been here since yesterday.
Suddenly, Lucy became very aware that she hadn’t brushed her teeth in the past several hours. She reached into her lab coat pocket and said a silent thank you when cellophane crinkled between her fingers. “Dr. McAvoy, we were just getting acquainted with our new patient here. Can you tell me your name, sir?”
“Only if you tell me yours first, ohhhhhhh, foxy lady.” He attempted to play Jimi Hendrix air guitar as he sang off key, to one of the musician’s signature tunes.
“No one told me there would be a rock concert.” Dr. McAvoy threw up a few fist pumps.
“I know exactly who that is.” Poppy snapped her fingers and returned to the central desk. “Let me double-check.”
“When you know, let me know.” Brett’s shoulder walkie-talkie went off and he stepped out to take the call.
Thomas leaned over and got within inches of the patient’s face. “You’ll have some respect. That’s Dr. Davidson and she’s here to save your ass.”
As much as Lucy appreciated the chivalry, she always hated the immediacy of it. No matter where she worked, before ever getting to know her, no other male doctors gave her the chance to defend herself. More times than she could remember, she’d explained repeatedly over the past month, how she earned a second-degree black belt in Kung Fu before completing her extremely busy ER residency. As of yet, she’d made little way convincing any of the staff of her full physical capabilities.
For some reason, Dr. McAvoy seemed not to totally trust her the most and she’d yet to figure out why.
What’s his story?
She cleared her throat, hoping to get his attention. “Thank you, Dr. McAvoy, I can take it from here if you want to start on another patient.”
“I’ll stay since I’m going to watch him after you leave.” As Thomas slowly moved away, his jaw clenched. “I’m here until noon.”
“When did you come in?” A subtle smell of spicy citrus floated around him.
“Seven last night.” He shook Kyle’s hand, who stood near the central desk.
How can you possibly smell like you just showered?
“Amanda and I are finishing a twenty-four.” Kyle stretched. “Ready to go home.”
“Jade sure has the doctors on weird schedules.” Nurse Dave Fletcher entered with an iPad in hand.
“She sure does. Insanely long hours.” Shelly tapped the bedside monitor. The low hum of the blood pressure cuff inflating filled the room. “I don’t see how either of you are standing. After a good twelve hours, I’m done.”
Lucy’s lips thinned. “We don’t need to do it. We’ve all served our times in residency and school for ridiculous clinical hours. We can make this work without beating ourselves up.”
“Good luck getting her to listen to you.”
“I’ve taken over that duty as of yesterday. Hopefully schedules will align more efficiently here soon and we’ll hire a few more physicians to help with the load.”
“Does Jade know about that?” Dave raised an eyebrow, a sly look of amusement on his face.
Not that Lucy looked forward to the conversation. Since Lucy’s arrival, Jade Phillips had made it very clear she’d run the ER without anyone’s help, thank-you-very-much. Despite Jade being a strong nurse practitioner, she had been put in charge of the doctors when the last ER director, Dr. McMasters, gave her a blank check his last couple of months before retirement. “I realize she stepped up quite a bit when the last director decided not to, but she’s got plenty of obligations without needing to worry about scheduling the doctors.”
“Battles are ugly when women get into it,” Ethan mumbled.
A beep momentarily pulled Lucy away from her angst about dealing with the territorial employee. “Vitals normal.”
“Got them,” Ethan replied, his fingers dancing across the computer keys.
Jade handing off duties to Lucy had gone about as smoothly as the ocean in a category five hurricane. “It’ll all work out. I promise.”
But the uncertainty in Lucy’s voice didn’t even convince herself.
Dave shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”
“Speaking of Jade, isn’t she supposed to be here?”
“I’m Jade today.” Dave raised his hand.
“Jade, you look rather mannish today,” Amanda replied.
“Thank you. Yeah, Jade called me an hour ago, saying she had an emergency.”
“Did she say what kind of emergency?” Thomas’s brow furrowed as Dave shrugged.
“No clue.”
Thomas’s inquire about Jade irritated Lucy. I wonder what the deal is between those two.
Then she mentally berated herself for even caring. That’s not the issue here. Focus!
There had been multiple discussions among the staff about how Thomas had come to Marietta to help Jade. That he owed her a favor as he stayed at her house despite his locum tenens company offering to pay for his housing.
When the two were together, the lack of romantic chemistry caught Lucy’s attention more than once. Either they were both incredibly good at hiding their feelings at work or there was nothing intimate going on. They acted more like siblings than lovers, past or present.
Why are you concerned about this? She pulled herself away from the discussion and tried to appear busy. You’re supposed to be the ER Director. Act like it.
Dave tapped the iPad and held it up for Thomas. “The next patient in line. Told her to let us know when she needs to pee.”
“A woman with abdominal pain for six hours. This won’t be complicated at all.” Thomas sighed and shook his head.
Annoyance bubbled in her stomach at his sarcasm. “Not up to the challenge of a female belly pain, Dr. McAvoy?”
“I’m up to the challenge, just fine, Dr. Davidson.” He calmly answered without missing a beat. “More things to consider, that’s all.”
Crap. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. “About one hundred more.”
Because of basic anatomy, the source of the cause of abdominal pain was always more complicated in women. All during training, Lucy had heard her share of sexist commentary from coworkers and attending physicians about a women’s faulty anatomy. How women always had to make things more complicated than they needed to be.
Yet, since working as the new ER Director at Marietta Regional, Lucy had yet to hear one disparaging thing from the staff about male versus female patients. Other than nurse practitioner Jade Phillips’s general dislike for Lucy for unknown reasons, her initial weeks here had been professionally pleasant.
Her personal life had been nonexistent, but the incredible respect amongst the staff, regardless of gender, had been a wonderfully refreshing change. One Lucy was still getting used to.
The only wrinkle in her world since arriving had been trying to stay professional when thinking about Dr. McAvoy. For whatever reason, he’d been more than a distraction in her perfectly planned agenda of success.
I have to make this job work. Prove everyone back home wrong.
Thomas McAvoy had proven to be a charming variable she hadn’t planned.
As Thomas’s eyes scanned the iPad screen, Lucy reminded herself that, presently, her simmering annoyance had nothing to do with the man standing across from her, but at the drunken man on the stretcher.
Well, maybe a little of her frustration could be because of the guy standing across from her. The good doctor had shown his competence more than a few times since his arrival in Marietta. He had a calm and cool demeanor when dealing with difficult patients and their families, to the point of being downright charming.
Not that he needed help gaining appreciative looks. His hazel eyes and naturally dark sun-kissed skin, along with his amazing arms did that all on their own.
But Lucy thought she knew his type all too well.
Beautiful. Arrogant. Chauvinistic, but damn if Dr. McAvoy had proven her wrong.
So far.
Why does he have to be so unpredictable?
For some unexplained reason, that annoyed her.
A lot.
Maybe because she’d let her guard down one too many times around men like him and ended up with professional and personal heartache.
Besides, Dr. McAvoy mentioned he’d taken three locum tenenses assignments a year for the past five years and had no intentions of stopping his travels anytime soon.
His stay would be temporary so no reason to get her hopes up about him.
Plus, Jade whispered more than once Thomas had been considered for the ER director job, should Lucy fail.
I can’t fail.
She couldn’t let him earn this job over her. Lucy desperately had to prove she was more than the girl who survived the horrible crash years before. She was more than her famous medical siblings and local celebrity stepfather.
More than a feel-good headline.
Here, in Marietta, she could make her own world, her own footprint, her own name, but she had to focus and not allow complications to derail her success.
Complications like the tall drink of water in front of her.
Momentarily lost in her thoughts, she jerked herself out of them, only to find him looking at her. The corner of his mouth curled into a perfectly adorable smirk that sent her ovaries into a round of happy backflips.
Ugh, focus. You need sleep. Not sex.
Without taking his eyes off her, Thomas asked, “Mr. Dave, has the patient complained of any guarding, fever, intermittent pain for the past six hours, unusual weight gain?”
Dave shook his head. “Yes, nope, not that she mentioned. I’d be surprised if she were pregnant.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because she’s a lesbian.”
Thomas’s eyes narrowed on the screen. “Sure enough. She put that on her medical history. Well, good for her.”
An unexpected laugh escaped Lucy, interrupting her silent lust. “That’s the best explanation for not being pregnant I’ve ever heard.”
“Let’s go with the obvious stuff first. Since she hasn’t had a hysterectomy, run a HCG anyway.” Thomas tapped the screen several times before handing the iPad back. “I added a couple of things there if you could get that rolling.”
Crap. All of that was right on the money practical.
Even his approach to the patient’s pregnancy possibilities.
As she refocused back on her patient, she berated herself for running out of reasons to, at least professionally, appreciate her handsome colleague’s knowledge base.
“Got it. Thanks, Dr. McAvoy.” Dave quickly filed the iPad on the counter of the central ER desk before disappearing around the corner.
“I’m gonna go check on my other patients really quick,” Shelly stated and left the room.
“Go ahead, Mrs. Westbrook.” Despite being bone-deep exhausted, Lucy never hated a day working in the ER. The ability to change a person’s health and get them on their way as fast as possible had been her motivation for going into medicine.
Someone did the same for me.
Every day, the scars on her body reminded her of that. How life could change in a second.
And there aren’t any seconds to waste.
She smiled sweetly while standing at the patient’s bedside. “Go ahead and get your first assessment on your belly pain, Dr. McAvoy. We’re good here.”
Thomas crossed his arms and stood firm. “Don’t worry about it. You want to give me a report so you can get out of here?”
As much as she’d love to leave and start a long nap, Lucy didn’t completely believe he’d only come in to get a report and let her go home. No one wants an annoying drunk as a patient.
A wash of worry blinked in his eyes before he rotated his left shoulder a few times and grimaced.
She didn’t know whether to find Thomas’s behavior endearing or insulting.
Lucy lifted the patient’s blood-crusted forehead bandages. “You sure?”
The man snored so loudly he woke himself. “Wha’d I miss?”
“I’m sure.” Thomas stepped near her, his gaze appeared laser-focused on the patient.
Interesting. “Let me finish a couple of things and he’s all yours.”
“Fair enough.” His words were tense. His usually jovial demeanor, muted.
Very interesting. “Sir. Can you tell me where you are?”
Mr. Obnoxious narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re still here buggin’ the shit out of me. I’m in the ER.”
“What year is it?”
“Why are you asking me this crap? I need drugs, stat.”
“Stat, huh?” She looked up at Thomas, who smirked. “You hit your head. I need to know if you know what year it is.”
“The Olympics happened last month. That Chloe chick snowboarded.”
“Yes, but what year is it?”
Tapping his ring on the bedrail, he clenched his jaw. “Damn, you’re demanding. You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”
“It’s part of the job description.” Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Tell me the year and I’ll consider some acetaminophen.”
“2018,” the man blurted. “Where’s my pills?”
Lucy pointed at the scribe. “Please order six hundred and fifty of Tylenol.”
“Tylenol?” He began to sit up but Lucy shook her head. Immediately, he let himself plop back down again, but kept a white-knuckle grip on the siderails.
“That’s what I offered.”
“That’s all I get?”
“It’s that or nothing.”
“This sucks.” He pouted.
Good to know he can carry on a constructive argument.
Ethan tapped the computer monitor. “Done. What else?”
“Patient awakens easily, knows date, place, and recognizes staff. Sir, wiggle your toes.” Lucy waited.
Silence.
“Sir!” Lucy tapped the man’s shoulder.
“Shit! What?” He snorted and groaned.
“Wiggle your toes.”
“Why?”
“I want to see if you can follow directions and can move your toes.” The buckle on his brand spankin’ new Prada loafers sparkled. Those along with that jagged ring on his finger were stark contrasts to the grungy jeans and local band t-shirt.
I wonder where he got those fancy pieces and if anyone’s missing them.
To her right, his steady heartbeat and perfect oxygen level showed the patient continued to appear stable.
He shook his feet, then tapped the toes together before individually throwing his legs up like an intoxicated dancer. “See, I’m fine. New York. Neeeeeeew Yoooooooork!”
“Sir! Sir.”
Thomas leapt forward and grabbed the man’s legs before lowering them to the bed. “Come on, man. Calm down.”
Kyle jumped in to help and Amanda ran around the desk.
As Lucy moved toward them, Thomas held his hand up. “We’ve got this.”
Stop it! I didn’t ask for your help.
“Get off me!” Mr. Patient kicked his feet like a spoiled toddler.
“Calm down first.” Thomas growled before inhaling. When the patient’s knee made hard contact with Thomas’s shoulder, he cringed, but he didn’t lessen his hold. “What have you been smoking?”
“None of your business.” Suddenly, the patient went flaccid like a balloon that had been instantly deflated.
After a few moments, Kyle and Thomas slowly backed away.
“He was this argumentative at the scene. We’d fight him and he’d calm down. He has the endurance of a tomato.” Amanda rubbed the bridge of her nose. “His car is totaled.”
“He’s got a bruised forehead, a few scratches, but no major lacerations and nothing is actively bleeding.” Lucy pulled back the forehead bandages as the rapid tapping on the computer keyboard played in the background. “The airbag didn’t deploy?”
“Much older car. No airbag.”
“Before 1999, then,” Thomas murmured as he rubbed his shoulder.
“1998.” Lucy responded without thought.
“What?”
Lucy repeated, “It was 1998 when airbags were required.”
Thomas looked around, “Dr. Davidson. It was 1999 when airbags were required.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Her hands clenched at her sides.
“Why are you arguing with me?”
It had rarely bothered Lucy about being incorrect, but it always chapped her ass when someone told her she was wrong when she damn sure wasn’t. “I’m not arguing. I’m correcting you.”
“That would be fine if I were wrong.”
His arrogance wiped out the last of her patience. She had no fuel left to fight her own anger. “It was September 1, 1998.”
“What was?” Thomas’s forehead furrowed and he looked around as though someone else would answer his question.
Tears threatened to fall, but she squared her shoulders before she answered, “The Intermodal Surface Transportation Efficiency Act of 1991 went into effect on September 1, 1998. It cited that every truck and car sold in the US had to have airbags in front of the driver and front seat passenger.”
Except for the patient, everyone in the room stood slack-jawed, staring at her.
Kyle typed in something on his phone then held it up. “How did you know that?”
Because they would’ve changed my entire childhood and saved my father’s life.
