Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Not long after the aborted trip to Hawaii, my boss had assigned me to a “patient flow taskforce committee,” which demanded additional long hours and reporting duties that now took up almost every spare minute of my time. The assignment had been presented as an honor, recognition of my dedication and clinical skills.
It had taken me six weeks to learn that the assignment “recommendation” had come from above, from the hospital CMO, who just so happened to be in the same social club as Kari’s mother, my former anesthesiology mentor.
The guilt had kept me from complaining initially, but it hadn’t kept me from researching other job opportunities. It was time to get away from this toxic environment and onto the next stage in my life. Preferably somewhere closer to my family and farther away from Kari and hers.
“Pressure’s stabilizing,” I called out as the trauma surgeon finally arrived to take over. “Good peripheral pulses, pupils are reactive. He’s got a chance.”
I stripped off my gloves and gown, already mentally moving to the next crisis. That was the thing about emergency medicine—there was always a next crisis.
“Dibs on new guy,” one of the female nurses whispered to Marcy as she hustled past. I looked up and noticed a new nurse standing nearby, checking out the board. He was tall and jacked and also clearly confused.
“Hey, you need help?” I called. “Marcy doesn’t bite, I promise.”
I glanced at Marcy, expecting a chuckle or eyeball, but all I saw was the ivory skin of her cheeks turn dark with a blush as she stared at the guy. I took another look at the new hire and back to Marcy, raising an eyebrow.
“Nah, man,” the guy said. “I’m just waiting for Kendra to get back from the ladies room. I’m shadowing her today.”
I nodded and turned back to Marcy before lowering my voice. “Do we like him, like like him, like him?” I teased.
She swatted at my arm. “You wouldn’t understand. But that man is entirely beddable. Like, fifteen on a scale of one to Pedro Pascal beddable.”
After a moment of trying to act cool, I glanced again. Yes, he was objectively attractive. But bed him? Meh. But then again, I wasn’t into g…
Jesus.
I was, though. I was clearly into guys. Somehow, I’d made it thirty-two fucking years without knowing it, but for the past five months, I’d been pretty much only into guys.
Well, guy, singular.
I closed my eyes and tried to picture it with the new guy. Hot nurse holding the back of my head. Kissing me. Pressing me tightly against him with those biceps. Everything in me rejected the idea, not because he was a guy but because he wasn’t my guy.
My eyes flew open as I shook my head. Not my guy, of course. I didn’t have a guy. But a guy. A specific—
“Your sister’s trying to get a hold of you,” Marcy said, interrupting my strange, bi-sexual confusion. “Said to give her a call on your next break.”
I faked a smile. “Did you tell her only lightweights need breaks?”
She grinned. “No, I told her I’d never heard that word before and wasn’t sure what it meant.”
I pulled out my phone and looked at my texts instead of asking Marcy which sister. Chances were, it wasn’t actually one of my sisters but my cousin Ella, who’d somehow convinced half my family to use her as their intermediary when they were worried about me.
Ella
Guess what? Trace has a job for you at SERA for the summer session!
And before you shake your head or roll your eyes, I also have inside info on a soon-to-be open position in the ER at Stanford. Call me.
I stared at the messages, my heart doing something complicated in my chest. SERA—Slingshot Emergency Rescue Academy in Legacy, Montana. Even if my family hadn’t helped fund its establishment, and the owner, Trace Bishop, wasn’t a close family friend, I would’ve heard about it. Everyone in wilderness medicine knew SERA. It was the kind of place I’d dreamed about during residency, back when I’d thought I might specialize in emergency medicine with a focus on wilderness and disaster response.
Before Kari had suggested anesthesiology would be more stable.
Before I’d convinced myself that stability was what I wanted.
Before Hawaii had reminded me maybe I had no idea what I actually wanted anymore.
Before I could click to call Ella back, Marcy’s voice rang out again. “We’ve got a triple incoming—MVC on the BQE. Two pediatric, one ejected, one unconscious at the scene. ETA seven minutes!”
Six more hours passed in a blur of blood, adrenaline, and the controlled chaos that defined emergency medicine. By the time my shift ended, I was running on fumes and coffee, my hands shaking slightly from exhaustion and caffeine overload.
I finally managed to call Ella back when I began my walk home, dodging through pedestrian traffic as the summer heat brought out every smell in the city.