And I couldn’t deny that Will had impressed me.
Moments later, healthy cries filled the room as Will held up a pint-sized baby girl. The waiting neonatal nurse took the baby from his hands, and I think everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief when the first minute Apgar was announced as nine.
“You saved her life, you know,” Will said, and his eyes met mine. “You saved that little girl’s life.”
I stared back at him.
“You did good, Mel,” he added as he continued to finish the surgery. “You did really good.”
There was a part of me that was happy, excited, and grateful that I was able to act quickly and do what needed to be done. And I definitely felt warm about Will’s recognition and trust in my ability.
But there was another part of me that felt sad.
Sad that Carmen had slipped through the cracks. Sad that she had gone nearly her entire pregnancy without any prenatal care. Sad that if she hadn’t come to the hospital when she did, she could have lost her baby.
There was a big issue with the way the health care system worked.
There shouldn’t be any woman out there, no matter her ethnicity or socioeconomic status, who didn’t have access to the health care she needed. Maybe if there had been a women’s free clinic within St. Luke’s, Carmen would have gotten the prenatal care she needed.
It was something to think about.
And it was definitely something a lot of women in the city would benefit from.
And what better place than St. Luke’s?
After all, it’d sure been doing a good job of giving me what I needed.
I tried not to read the sparkling crystals as they winked up at me under the fluorescent lights. I mean, I was a goddamn professional. But professionalism only went so far.
Especially when each crystal, placed precisely and with intent, played a part in spelling out the words “Date me, Dr. Obscene.”
Dr. Obscene? Fucking seriously?
“It’s what they call you,” the exposed woman offered without prompting. Obviously, my face wasn’t completely with the professional program.
Shit. Maybe this is why I always lose at Thatch’s poker nights.
I glanced up to Melody, hoping she’d save me, but she just shook her head. She had no idea what the fuck was going on either.
At least I’m not alone.
Wait… My eyes narrowed as Melody looked to the ground and smiled.
Fuck. Maybe she did know what the hell was going on. She was just good at pretending like she didn’t. The more I scrutinized her expression, the more certain I was that she, unlike me, wasn’t surprised by the words adorning our current patient’s vagina.
I tried to get her attention, but it didn’t work. She was a like a Jedi at avoidance, and I only had myself to blame—I’d given her all that practice right off the bat. She knew my weaknesses.
She is your weakness, my mind whispered. Shut up, I told it.
Not that it would have mattered if she’d looked up. What was I going to do? Mouth what the fuck is going on?
No. As much merit as the idea held in theory, I didn’t think feigning invisibility—or at the very least, discretion—would work in practice. Mel had the right idea by ignoring everything.
I tried my best to follow her lead.
Grabbing Jamie Abrams’s chart from the counter, I pulled it in front of me and focused on the words as hard as I could. “So it says there that you came in today for a suspected urinary tract infection?”
“Oh,” she mumbled. “I thought maybe I did, but all of the symptoms seem to have cleared up.”
I looked over my shoulder at her urine sample on the counter and studied the test strip on top of the cup. All clear.
“Well, you didn’t test like you have one either, so I think we can rule that out. But let’s talk about those symptoms a little more. Get to the bottom of what’s going on.”
She was young, twenty-one according to her chart, and unverified symptoms of a urinary tract infection without an actual cause were concerning. So I wasn’t about to write this off as nothing, even though something smelled like fish.
And no, it wasn’t bacterial vaginosis. She was just as fresh and clear as the crystals glued to her.
“They really weren’t that bad.”
I looked back down at her folder.
“Your chart says it was urgent.”
Her cheeks flushed bright red, but I had to hand it to her, she looked me directly in the eye and swallowed any and all shame. I didn’t think I would have had the balls at her age. And maybe, therein that very anatomy, lay the problem.
“Okay, so I lied. I’m sorry, Dr. Cummings. I just wanted to meet you. I’ve been watching the show—”
She must have noticed the corners of my mouth turn down because she switched tactics pretty quickly.
“And I’ve heard you are an incredible doctor, but your waiting list for new patients goes out a while.”
One of the crystals caught the light and subsequently my eye. Shit. Reaching forward, I pulled the paper blanket back down to cover all of her skin completely, being careful not to touch her or even come close in the process.
“All right, Jamie. I appreciate your honesty here, so here’s how we’ll handle it. When you leave, go ahead and schedule your annual appointment for next year. I see that you’ve just had this year’s in your records.”
She nodded sheepishly.
“But I appreciate your enthusiasm about our practice.”
I smiled and moved toward the door and a rather wide-eyed-with-amusement Melody when Jamie called me back.
“Dr. Cummings?”
“Yes?”
“What about the date?”
So close.
I didn’t really understand why the guy on my show—unfortunately, me—was so appealing, but I was conscious enough to be sensitive to her feelings. I dropped my voice, trying to soften the rejection around the edges.
“Sorry, Jamie. I have a strict rule against dating patients, and it seems you just signed on for the long run, right?”
Her mouth opened and closed, gulping air like a fish out of water for a few seconds before a hint of a grin pulled her lips closed.
The expert player has been played.
She nodded. “See you in a year, Dr. Cummings.”
“Looking forward to it, Jamie.”
“Take your time getting dressed,” Melody told her as I headed for the door. “I’ll meet you at the front desk with your paperwork so you can schedule your appointment for next year.”
Several minutes later, Melody found me studying the next patient’s chart in my office and called my attention with a soft knock.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I offered, curling my fingers toward my body.
She stepped inside and shut the door, locked the knob and took a seat in the chair in front of my desk. My eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
“What’s up?”
She tapped her ear like it was a secret code and pointed everywhere around herself in a circle.
Ah. Prying ears everywhere.
Hope mushroomed in my stomach as I conjured up all of the reasons she could want to keep this conversation private.
Maybe she felt it too? Whatever this thing between us was.