Kissing My Dad's Friend

I cross my arms. “That’s hardly ethical.”

“It’s how business works. And until you understand that, I don’t know that I can continue to give you your own rounds. Or at least not as many as you’ve had before now.” He places his palms flat on his desk. “I’ve told your supervisor to switch you off the rest of your patients. The three priority patients will be your only three patients now.”

My eyes widen. I had so many other people to check up on today. “But who will cover the rest?”

“Heather and Lionel will step in, along with Martha.”

Martha. The old woman who forgets where she put her own glasses half the time, let alone what medicine her stacks of patients need. “Will they have enough time?” I ask, panic rising in my gut. “There are so many people checked in today, and they all have their own patients to look in on already…”

“Something you should have kept in mind before you made it necessary for me to pass all of this extra work along to them.” My father turns back to his computer, clearly a dismissal.

“You are unbelievable sometimes, you know that?” I growl. But I can tell any more talking isn’t going to get through to him. And even if I try to continue working my rounds like I should, he’ll probably spy on me over the computers, report me to my supervisor—or make my supervisor squeal on me for ignoring his orders. Either way, I’m screwed.

Why did he even pay for me to go to school if he was just going to treat me like an incompetent child the second I graduated?

I storm out of his office and slam the door behind me, hard enough for it to echo all the way down the hallway. I’m stomping off down said hallway, when a familiar head pops out of a neighboring room.

“That went well, I take it?” Russ again. I glare in response, which only makes him chuckle. “Sorry. I heard the slam and just guessed.”

With a sigh, I lean against the wall beside the exam room Russ was just talking to a patient in. I wait for him to finish up and draw the door shut before I speak again. “Was he always like this?”

“If you mean completely oblivious to the needs or desires of most everyone around him?” Russ grins, and I press my lips together, nodding. “Yeah, a little bit. He’s got a good heart deep down, he just tends to focus on the really big picture. When he’s in that mood, he forgets about how all the cogs in that big picture are human beings with feelings of their own.”

I sigh and push off the wall to walk beside Russ as he strides down the long hallway, presumably back toward the surgery wing where he spends his time when he’s not following up on patients in recovery. “Sorry for being grumpy. I know I shouldn’t take my frustrations with him out on you.”

“Don’t worry, I can take it.” Russ’s eyes sparkle when they catch mine, and not for the first time since it happened, I think about the way he startled when he saw me in Dad’s office, the way his gaze dripped over me. I can’t remember the last time I saw him—maybe about a month ago when I first started here?

Has something changed since then? Or maybe just today?

I side-eye Russ as we stroll, not bothering to disguise the fact that I’m checking him out. “I’ll bet you can,” I say, before I can think better of it.

He laughs softly, just once, and it’s enough to draw my gaze back to his face. When I look up, I find his eyes boring into mine. Curious, searching. “When did you get so grown up, Maggie?”

“A while ago.” I smirk, lifting my chin high, holding his gaze steady. “Just took you a minute to notice, I guess.”

“Oh, you don’t know what I noticed,” he murmurs, and the sudden, low heat in his voice does all kinds of crazy things to my body. My toes curl inside my standard-issue work shoes, and my belly tenses. It feels like I swallowed a whole fireplace, there’s so much heat in my core, spreading out to tingle along the tips of my fingers.

“Why don’t you tell me?” I raise an eyebrow and take a step closer to him. I expect him to back off, or tell me this is a bad idea. But he surprises me. He holds his ground, his smile only widening.

“You sure you want to play this game with me, Mags?” He says the last word in a whisper, and it only stokes the flames that have been building further.

Mags. It’s what he’s always called me, since as long as I can remember. When I was a teenager, going through my hormonal phase, I can’t deny, I fantasized about hearing him call me that in totally different situations. Russ might be twice my age, this whole thing might be totally inappropriate, but I don’t care.