My Sweetest Sasha: Cole's Story (Meadows Shore Book 2) (5 page)

He strummed his fingers on the counter adjacent to Sherrie’s desk. “This arrangement is going to have some kinks to work out. We’re going to have to accommodate each other.” He started to walk away.

“I can see how it could put a crimp in your social life. But while I’m here, I’d appreciate it if you would
accommodate
me by having the decency not to treat your office like a tawdry rent-by-the-hour motel room.”

Cole stopped in his tracks, and swiveled to face her. “She was a friend visiting me at work. There was nothing more to it than that, so get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Don’t patronize me. I know what I saw. It fits perfectly with what’s in your personnel file,” she added softly.

He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, and she could see the wheels spinning.

“Yeah, well I guess you busted me,” he sneered turning his back to her. “She wasn’t the first, and she won’t be the last. Live with it.”

The man had absolutely no shame. And he was awfully edgy for someone who’d just had a roll in the hay.

Their beepers began to vibrate, ending the unpleasant discussion. “Emergency room.”

* * *

Cole grabbed a stethoscope and a long white coat from behind the door and shoved a few items in his pockets. His stride was long and purposeful, and it took some effort for her to keep up with him. By the time they reached the emergency room, she was panting.

“Talk to me, Donna,” he said to one of the nurses at the station.

She handed him a chart that he thumbed through while she spoke. “Sixty-one-year-old male with a gunshot wound to the left leg. Cleaning his gun when it went off. He passed out and a neighbor found him. Lost a lot of blood. Pressure’s 100 over 60 and falling. Bed seven.”

He grabbed a chair and positioned it near bed seven, just outside the privacy curtain. Cole pointed at her and then at the chair, like she was a dog trained to follow his non-verbal commands. She thought about confronting him, but the patient’s leg was more important than a perceived slight, however rude it had been. So she sat quietly, like a nice girl from Minnesota.
Minnesota nice.
Isn’t that how he’d referred to her earlier, in his office? It certainly hadn’t taken him long to decide which hole to stuff the peg in to.

Her view was only partially obscured by the curtain, and she could hear everything.

“Mr. Robbins. I’m Dr. Harrington. Mind if I take a look at your leg?”

The man shook his head.

“Cleaning your gun, huh?” he said examining the wound.

“Gotta help me doc—so much pain—live alone—don’t want to lose my leg,” he choked out, grimacing.

“We’re going to do everything we can to save your leg, but it’s going to require a trip to the operating room. You okay with that?”

“Whatever it takes.”

“I’m going to leave you in the capable hands of these nurses. They’ll give you some medicine to help the pain, and get you downstairs quickly.” His eye caught Donna’s as he spoke, and she nodded. “I’ll meet you there. When was the last time you ate?”

“Lunch.”

“Perfect.”

“See you downstairs.” He put his hand on the frightened man’s arm. “We’re going to take good care of you, I promise.”

It was a kind gesture, filled with genuine compassion and humanity. It almost outweighed his obnoxious behavior from earlier.

He came from around the curtain, and beckoned to her. “It’s late, and you can’t scrub in. Why don’t you go home? This procedure can be videotaped. You can watch it at your leisure,” he said, practically running down the stairs to the OR.

“I can’t. This is my job. I’ll watch from the observation area.”

“Have you ever observed a surgery?”

“No.”

“Have a strong stomach?”

She ignored him.

“Bring a barf bag, or you might end up with chunks of manicotti all over your pretty white shirt.”

It was long after midnight when he found her asleep in the observation area.

She looked peaceful, almost angelic, with her golden hair fanned out around her face like a halo. “Hey.” He squeezed her arm gently, and she opened her eyes and looked around, clearly confused.

“You’re in the observation room at Boston General. Time to go home. Let’s get your things and I’ll walk you to your car.”

“I didn’t drive,” she said still groggy, struggling to regain her bearings. “I can take the bus home or walk.”

“The buses aren’t running, and there’s no way you’re walking home. I’ll give you a ride.”

“I can walk. I don’t live far.”

The neighborhood around the hospital left something to be desired, especially at night. “That doesn’t make me feel any better. You’re not walking home. I’m not coming back in to sew you up after you’re attacked. You’ll get in my car and I’ll drive you home.”

She was too tired to argue.

“Were you able to save Mr. Robbins’ leg?”

“Yeah. Barring an infection. With some rehab it should be okay. It won’t ever be exactly the same, but it’ll be easier to live with than a prosthesis.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry about falling asleep earlier, it won’t happen again. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“All excited about the prospect of us working together?”

“I thought maybe they were going to fire me.”

“Why, what did you do?”

“Nothing. They don’t need a reason. I’m a probationary employee.”

He pressed the key fob in his hand and the lights flashed on a sleek black convertible. “Where am I going?”

“237 Porter Street. Take a left at … ”

“I know exactly where it is. You were going to walk home through that neighborhood at one in the morning? Really? What’s wrong with you?”

Tired and irritated, she let loose on him. “You might be hot stuff in the hospital, and I might have to abide by some of your
boundaries
, but stop lecturing me! The last thing I need in my life is a never-ending lecture from a spoiled doctor with a bloated ego and an over-active libido. You don’t know me. I can take care of myself.”

Hot stuff.
He chuckled.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because I wasn’t sure you had it in you to put me in my place. It’s liberating. Now I won’t feel guilty for not treating you like a porcelain doll.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry. That was inexcusable.”

“No it wasn’t, and don’t apologize. You apologize too damn much. It makes you seem weak. You need to work on that.”

He glanced out the window at the unsavory characters doing business on the otherwise abandoned streets. With the buyers and sellers mostly indistinguishable from one another. “And I know you well enough to know those junkies out there will rob you blind and leave you for dead, and there’s not a damn thing you’d be able to do about it.”

He felt a twinge of guilt when it occurred to him the neighborhood might be all she could afford. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so heavy-handed. It’s a habit. I have five younger female cousins who grew up next door … they’re like sisters. I always worry about their safety, too. They think I’m an overbearing pain in the ass. Shocking, isn’t it?” She didn’t respond, but he spied a small smile.

“You’re not afraid apologizing will make you look weak?”

“Apologizing diminishes a woman’s strength, but it enhances a man’s. Didn’t they teach you that in law school?”

“I must’ve slept through that lesson.”

“I’ll pick you up on my way in tomorrow, then you won’t miss anything. Otherwise you could get there a few minutes after me, and I would’ve already committed my despicable act for the day. Then you’d be out of luck.”

“You don’t need to pick me up. I enjoy walking to work when the weather’s good.”

***

Exhausted, she sat back and
tried
to relax. But being around Cole Harrington made her feel like a ship caught in a tumultuous storm, never sure where there were rocky shoals to run her aground.

She studied him out of the corner of her eye while he drove. It would be easy to pass him off as arrogant and self-absorbed, but he treated his patients and staff with respect and kindness. For that matter, he was kind to her, in a bossy, overbearing sort of way. The man was somewhat of an enigma, and he’d piqued her curiosity. “You don’t take the coaching seriously do you?”

“No. I don’t. At first I was insulted … my bloated ego bruises easily, you know.” He nudged her playfully with his elbow. “But then I realized it wasn’t really about me or anything I’ve done.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m far from perfect, but I’m a good doctor and a reasonably decent human being. This is someone’s game we’re playing, and for the time being, I’m a pawn. I think you are too.”

“You think I’m a pawn?”

“Well, either you’re a game piece, or you’re the mastermind manipulating the pieces. Those are the choices. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

“Chet?”

“Maybe. Although I don’t know why the little weasel would want to take me on. I’ll wring his scrawny neck if I find out this is his doing.”

They sat in silence until they reached her street.

“What time do you start tomorrow?”

“Six-thirty.”

“Seriously, six-thirty?”

“I’m normally in by five-thirty. Thought I’d give you a break.”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

They pulled up to her apartment building, and Cole scanned the area. He put his hazards on and opened the car door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m walking you in.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Yeah, I do. Otherwise I’ll be awake all night wondering if you made it in safely. You don’t need to thank me, I’m doing this for me, not for you.”

“Do you know there’s hardly a sentence from your mouth that’s not tinged with sarcasm?”

“Playful teasing. I have five brothers. It’s not the same as sarcasm, but I’m sarcastic, too. If you were a real social worker, not a lawyer masquerading as one, your insight would tell you it’s my way of introducing levity into awkward situations.”

“A defense mechanism. Utilized by the uncomfortable, confused, or frightened,” she said.

“I don’t frighten. Lock your door. I’ll be by at six.”

“I’ll have left by then.”

“Six.”

Before she could argue, he was gone.

When he arrived at work the next morning she was already there. “I stopped by your apartment on the way in, but you’d already left. I told you I’d pick you up.”

“You did. But I’m pretty sure I mentioned that I like to walk to work in the morning. In fact, I think I might have said it twice.”

He didn’t say anything more about it, but the annoyed look on his face spoke volumes.

“What’s all this?” He asked pointing to her overnight bag. “Moving in?”

“I brought a few extra things with me. I wasn’t sure what today would hold, and I like to be prepared.

“A regular girl scout.”

He set a cup of coffee and a small white bag on the table in front of her. “It’s a blueberry muffin, and I got you a latte. Wasn’t sure how you like your coffee, but figured almost everyone can get down a latte. There’s sugar in the bag, and some of the fake stuff too.”

“Thank you. But you don’t need to feed me … it makes me uncomfortable.”

“‘Thank you’ would’ve been sufficient.”

He glanced at her while buttoning his lab coat. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I got myself a coffee and thought you might like one too. You know there’s a study about happiness. It makes you happier … ”

“ … to buy a cappuccino for a friend than to buy one for yourself.” She finished his sentence.

“Cappuccino, latte,” he shrugged. “What’s the difference, as long as it makes me happy?”

She caught herself eyeing the coffee and the pastry bag like they were poisonous.

“Look, I’m not trying to influence your report, if that’s what you’re worried about. And I would’ve brought a bottle of wine if I was trying to get into your pretty blue panties, or whatever color your wearing today.”

Her cheeks warmed when she remembered how they’d met.

“I don’t eat out, and I can’t afford to pay you back. I don’t like to be dependent on other people. And here,” she said, getting up to put some money on his desk.

“What’s that for?”

“It’s for last night’s dinner. I found it in the side compartment of my purse when I got home last night.”

“I’ll take it only if you agree not say another word about the coffee. Not today, not ever.”

She didn’t agree to his demand, but she sipped the latte and relaxed a little. It was a treat, and so much better than the swill from the cafeteria.

“The coffee’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly.

“What’s your schedule like today?”

“Our schedule, you mean? Rounds with the fellows, residents and students. Then it’s a surgical day. No office patients. You can come on rounds if you want. Plenty of bad behavior to remediate, and even some bad medicine, although not all of it will be mine.”

* * *

She dropped the overnight bag in her office before going to the unit to catch up with Cole and the trainees. Medical students, interns, residents, and fellows—it was a motley crew.

Cole carried a stool while they made their way down the hall, handing it off to a resident before entering a patient’s room. This scenario repeated itself a few times, with a different person accepting the stool from him each time. It took her a little while to understand what was happening.

He was trying to teach them about respect and humility. The trainee responsible for talking with the patient sat on the stool so they would be at the patient’s height, not looming over them in an intimidating manner. This was a technique she’d learned in social work school. It wasn’t something doctors usually thought about, and it was completely out of character for surgeons, who typically loved lording it over everyone, some of them quite certain they actually were God.

The group walked in and out of patient rooms, but Cole allowed no discussion in the hall. Instead, he led them to a small conference room where they presented cases and discussed the possibilities for diagnosis and treatment.

One of the trainees was particularly cocky, working hard to outshine the others. Cole put him in his place several times, grilling the resident until he withered. He was tough, but fair. No one would ever accuse him of coddling his charges. He sent an intern away who showed up two minutes late, refusing to hear an explanation for the tardiness. And while he listened to the young doctors diagnose disease and discuss surgical interventions, he’d occasionally throw out a gem, like “even a blind squirrel gets a nut sometimes,” and “that’s a great plan … if you’re trying to kill the patient.” But always with a light, almost playful tone.

It was apparent, even to someone like her who knew nothing about training doctors, that he took the responsibility of teaching seriously, and wanted them to grasp the importance of being compulsive, leaving no stone unturned. To his credit, he never missed an opportunity to drive home lessons he’d learned along the way, that caring for patients was a privilege, and practicing medicine was an art requiring a team approach, a measure of selflessness, and a good dose of humility.

It was difficult to understand how a man who seemed to have such a well-tuned moral compass when it came to his physician responsibilities, could be sleeping with a married woman. But married, single, the fine details really weren’t her concern, and if he didn’t treat the hospital like his personal brothel, it wouldn’t concern her at all. She reminded herself of that at least a half dozen times while she watched him work.

* * *

Rounds were essentially the same every day. She rarely saw any behavior from Cole she’d quarrel with, and much behavior she’d applaud. Although his delivery certainly could use some polishing.

On the fifth morning a charge nurse came by, and he stepped away from the group to talk with her. Alexa couldn’t hear what was being said, but Cole looked plenty agitated.

Rounds ended, but before he let them go, he had some choice words. “The next time one of you peons treats a nurse like you’re the master and she works for you, you’ll be answering to me. The nurses on the units have forgotten more about taking care of patients than you’ve ever known. You’d be smart to learn from them, and you will treat them with respect. It’s not a suggestion.”

“Janis, in my office at eight, Brennan in my office at eight fifteen. The rest of you get to it, and try not to kill anyone today.”

“Aren’t you scheduled for the operating room?” Alexa asked after everyone dispersed.

“Yeah, but first I need to meet with those two knuckleheads.”

“What did they do?”

“Offered to trade sexual favors for a prize.”

“Both of them?” she asked with wide eyes.

He nodded.

“They propositioned you?”

“One of them, although her heart wasn’t in it. And the other hit on one of my surgeons.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. He can be dense, but when she touched his junk for the third time during a ten-minute conversation, he was pretty sure she meant business.”

“Do you think there might be a less crass way of describing that event?”

“That was the less crass way.”

Alexa rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t the medical education director handle this?”

“She’s had lots of chances. It’s my turn now.”

* * *

“Janis, have a seat,” he said to the young medical student quaking in her Dansko clogs.

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice,” he continued. “Don’t ever approach an attending, or anyone else in charge, and offer to do whatever he wants if he’ll pass you. ’Cause one day some asshole’s going take you up on the offer.”

“It’s not what I meant,” she stammered. “I … ”

He ignored her. “There are dozens of female physicians around here who are great role models—Brennan isn’t one of them. Find someone else to emulate.” He paused to give her a moment to digest what he was saying.

“You’re a talented medical student who’s having trouble getting through a challenging rotation. That’s the rep on you right now. But if you start using your body instead of your brain, you’ll never live it down. You’ll never have the respect of your colleagues. You can go on to win the Nobel Prize, and people will still snicker and gossip about how you got through medical school on your back.”

Alexa couldn’t see the young woman’s face, but she could hear her quiet sobs.

“I’ve worked out a plan to help you. No sex required.” He handed her a piece of paper. “Take it and look it over. It requires a lot of extra effort from both of us, but mostly from you. If you’re up for it, we can start tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” She said sniffling.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

The medical student walked out of the office and he picked up the phone. “Send the princess in.”

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked Alexa.

“My head’s spinning.”

“Then you’ll love the next one. Apparently she can make the whole room spin. Buckle your seat belt.”

A young woman sashayed into the office exposing more cleavage than most women would be comfortable displaying on a Saturday night out with friends. She took a seat across from Cole, crossing her legs to bare yet more skin. He shook his head and sat back, glowering. “Before we begin, you need to button your shirt.”

A small gasp came from Alexa’s corner of the room.

“You’re a big girl, Brennan, and have perfected your own
special
way of getting ahead around here. As far as I’m concerned, that’s your business. What you do with the cardiac surgeons or the orthopedic guys, not my business. What
is
my business, is when you brush your hand across a trauma surgeon’s crotch while having a conversation about getting extra time in the operating room.”

“There must’ve been some misunderstanding.”

“Three times? That’s not a misunderstanding, it’s a hat trick.”

“He … ”

Cole put up his hand. “Before you blame him, he’s squeaky clean. An eagle scout. The worst thing I’ve ever heard about him is he plays bad music in the OR and sings along. But you. You created your reputation, you’ve lived off it, and so now you’re stuck with it.”

His voice was deceptively calm, but his words were menacing. “Keep your hands off my surgeons. We’re done here.”

The young woman bolted from the room like it was engulfed in flames.

“You don’t mince words.”

“She’s an adult. And deserves everything I said to her and more.”

“Pretty harsh from someone with quite a reputation of his own.”

“I never slept with anyone to get ahead.”

“What about Diana?”

He scowled at her.

“I’ve seen the file.”

“Then you know what happened.”

“I’d like to hear your version of the story.”

“For your report?”

“No, not really, it’s old news. But I want to understand what happened from your perspective. I want to understand you. I can’t make a fair assessment without figuring out what makes you tick.”

“You almost sound like a real social worker.”

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

Comfortable? He hadn’t had a moment of comfort since he laid eyes on her.
Something about her called to him, sucked him in, made it impossible to look away. They’d been together day and night for more than a week, and there’d been scarcely a moment when he didn’t want to bury himself inside her, feel her tighten around him. But he knew better. He forced himself to keep as much physical distance between them as possible, because one inadvertent touch, one tiny, innocuous touch, and all bets were off.

“Diana was a neurosurgeon on staff here. She was talented and beautiful, and troubled. Every rotation she chose a medical student to be her personal boy toy.” He glanced at Alexa’s ashen face. “It sounds worse than it was. No one was ever coerced, and there was no benefit, aside from the obvious physical reward and an ego boost. But it looked bad, and if she’d been a man they’d have canned her without a second thought.”

Cole paused, sinking deeper in his chair. He’d told the wretched story before, many times in fact, but he was uneasy recounting it today. Disclosing the ugly details to Alexa, dreading the disgust he’d see in her face when she heard the particulars … it made him cringe. But as much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t shirk the truth, or worse yet, buff the facts to a glossy sheen.

“The students were all men in their mid-twenties, at least. It was a badge of honor to be chosen. And a mind-blowing experience. Most of us had only been with high school and college girls. Diana was a woman. All woman. Comfortable with naked bodies, including her own. She knew what she liked, what she needed, and she wasn’t shy about asking or teaching, if necessary. Everyone wanted in on the action.

“One day, while she was doing her thing, a patient who’d had a massive stroke, came into the emergency room. They paged Diana three times before she responded. Her pager had been buried under a pile of clothing in the corner of her office. The patient died on her way to the operating room.”