Noah and Dr. London regarded each other. “This is not going to work,” Dr. London said as she pulled her bouffant surgical cap off her head, releasing a silky profusion of long, seriously blond-streaked hair from its workday confinement.
As a kind of reflex, Noah sucked in a bit of air and held his breath. With a certain amount of shock, he recognized that Dr. London was a surprisingly attractive woman who obviously cared about her appearance. Seeing her as alluring was something that had never occurred to him before, as he had never seen her without her dowdy head covering and surgical mask. Although there were a few women on the staff who caught his attention on occasion because something about their appearance clicked in what he humorously referred to as his reptilian brain, it had never happened with Dr. London. Why, he didn’t know, because suddenly in this starkly utilitarian lounge and hardly seductive environment she appeared rather exceptionally lovely. The halo of mostly blond hair framed a face dominated by intensely blue eyes, a narrow, pixielike upturned nose, full lips, and startlingly white teeth that contrasted with her blemish-free, healthy complexion. Totally unaware of the effect she was having, she used her fingers to tame her hair. Even that seemed coquettish to Noah.
“Can you think of someplace else we can go?” Dr. London asked. When Noah didn’t respond, she asked again a bit louder.
“Excuse me,” Noah said, averting his gaze. “Someplace else? Let me think—”
“Tell me this first!” Dr. London interrupted. “What exactly did Dr. Mason say to you about me in regard to the Vincent case?”
Noah struggled to reprogram his brain. He felt acutely embarrassed that he was acting like a besotted teenager. He raised his eyes from looking down at his hands in his lap. “Actually, he didn’t name you specifically. He said that Anesthesia screwed up by giving the wrong anesthesia.”
“He didn’t say anything about his office stipulating the anesthesia he wanted or that no one knew the patient had had GI symptoms associated with bowel obstruction?”
“I don’t think so,” Noah said. He wasn’t certain. On the spur of the moment, he couldn’t remember. His mind wasn’t functioning up to speed.
“I did not screw up,” Dr. London said bluntly, with emotion bordering on anger. “As I said, I went over the case with a fine-toothed comb. Except for waiting for him to be physically present before starting the anesthesia, I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”
“He did say the patient and Admitting people contributed,” Noah said, suddenly remembering Mason’s exact words.
“That is an understatement, considering what the patient ended up vomiting,” Dr. London said. She bent closer to Noah, close enough that he could appreciate her perfume. “He had eaten a huge breakfast. But listen! I’m glad you came to me. With Dr. Mason saying what he did, we definitely have to talk, because you have to present this case very carefully to keep it from becoming a disaster for both of us.”
Noah nodded. He was surprised but pleased. He had expected her to be defensive and distant, maybe even wary and unhelpful. Quite the contrary, she was sounding as if she were totally in his camp, seeing the up-and-coming M&M just as he did: a potential calamity.
“Unfortunately, I don’t think we should be seen talking together about this here in the hospital, because it could easily smack of collusion or even conspiracy,” Dr. London said. “You understand?”
“I do. I hope you understand that I’m going to be on a tightrope, and I need all the help I can get.”
“The way I see it, we are both going to be on a tightrope.”
“Why do you believe you are on a tightrope?” Noah questioned. He was mystified. “You say you have gone over the case and wouldn’t do anything differently. You are a board-certified staff anesthesiologist. Dr. Mason could not do anything to you. I’m different. I’m only a surgical resident, and he already doesn’t like me, and he is part of the surgical residency program hierarchy.”
“I find him a difficult person to deal with,” Dr. London admitted. “Personally, I think the man has a personality disorder, but let’s not go into that now. The problem is he and my boss, Dr. Kumar, are bosom buddies. To make matters worse, Dr. Mason is not fond of me, either.”
“How can you say that?” Noah asked. “Word has it he often asks for you.”
Dr. London waved her hand as if shooing away a bothersome fly. “Let’s not get into it now. Here’s my suggestion: Are you off tonight?”
“Sort of,” Noah said, surprised by the question. “As the super chief, I’m never completely off. There are a chief resident, a senior resident, and a junior resident on call tonight. I just have to be available if disaster strikes.”
“Okay, good,” Dr. London said. “I live nearby in Beacon Hill. Louisburg Square, to be exact.”
“I know Louisburg Square,” Noah said, sitting up a bit straighter. “I live on the hill, too. On Revere Street.”
“Then we are practically neighbors,” Dr. London said. She leaned closer and lowered her voice a bit more. “Here’s my suggestion: When you finish here at the hospital this evening, drop over to my house. It is number sixteen. We’ll be able to talk freely. What do you say?
“Thank you,” Noah said, taken aback. It was an unexpected offer. He also noticed she said “house” and not “apartment.” Single-family homes were the exception on Beacon Hill. “I’ll be glad to come by your place. I appreciate your offer.”
“You are welcome,” Dr. London said, getting to her feet. “Let me give you my mobile number so you can text me if something comes up and you can’t make it.” She stepped over to the phone table and scribbled her number down on a piece of paper. Noah watched her. He was momentarily dumbfounded. He hadn’t expected any of this. When she walked back to where he was sitting, holding the paper out in front of her, he could see from the way she moved that she definitely had an athletic body. It was even apparent in her baggy scrubs, although he had never noticed it before.
“Until later,” Dr. London said. “I hope to see you tonight.” She handed over the sheet of paper before disappearing into the women’s locker room.