Grumpy Doctor

And honestly, I don’t make great choices when I get mad.

It might as well be a day of bad choices.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t think so.”

His eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”

“You’re my attending. I get it, you hate me and aren’t interested in having me around, but I don’t care. Rees put me here, and your boss clearly thinks you have to teach me, so I’m sticking around.”

He leaned forward. “You realize I’m going to make your life a living hell?”

“Good. I hope so. And maybe you’ll teach me something while you’re being an asshole.”

He glared at me for a few seconds before he laughed again, leaning back, arms over his chest like he didn’t have a care in the world. But I saw the anger behind the false laughter, and I knew he was annoyed—hell, he was as pissed off as I felt.

“Here’s your first lesson then: you exist at my pleasure. Do you understand? You want to be my resident? Then you’ll follow my orders without complaint.”

“Fine,” I snapped.

“I don’t care if you think my instructions are below you. I don’t care if you think I’m just some cynical douchebag. You’ll listen, you’ll obey, and maybe you’ll make it through this alive. Understood?”

“Understood, Dr. Hood.”

“Good.” He turned back toward his desk. “You can call me Piers. Now get out of my office.”

I hesitated. “Where should I go?”

“Home? Somewhere else? I couldn’t care less. Be back here tomorrow morning at five sharp.”

I wanted to argue. I was supposed to spend the day with him getting acclimated, but I knew this was the best I’d get. I left, shutting his office door behind me, and stood in the hallway trying not to hyperventilate. I walked away, keeping myself steady, until I finally reached the elevators and collapsed onto a door windowsill overlooking downtown Philadelphia.

I never should’ve done that back there. It was a huge mistake, and I knew he was going to eat me alive. I should back out now, find his boss, Gina, beg her to assign me someone else, anyone else.

But no, damn it, no way. I’m not backing down now. That surly asshole back there thinks he’s god’s gift to the world and he’s too good to reach a resident. I was going to show him that I was more than worth his time.

I was going to show him that I could be better than him.

I pulled myself together, stood up, and stared at my reflection in the window. I could do this. I definitely could do it.

Probably.

I rode the elevator back down and went in search of the other residents, hoping I could tag along with their tour.

2

Piers

The bar was crowded as I hunched over my drink, wondering what the hell I did to deserve this fate.

Franco smirked at me over his whiskey. “I hear you got assigned a resident. How the hell did that happen?”

“You tell me.” I leaned back in the booth and swirled my beer. Franco was an old friend from back in my medical school days, and we didn’t see each other all that often anymore. He worked at another hospital across town. We met up at some rundown shithole spot around the corner from Westview. The floor was sticky, the tables looked like they were made from plywood, and absolutely horrible jazz blared from the speakers, but the drinks were cheap and there weren’t any other doctors around, so it was perfect.

“It can’t be that bad. I mean, you got, what, one? I got a whole damn gaggle of them.”

“You’re used to it.”

He barked a laugh. Franco was a big guy, bearish and broad, with hairy arms and fierce dark eyes. I liked him well enough—he was one of the few doctors I could stand. All the rest were pompous bastards.

Sort of like me.

“I’m used to it because that’s what working at a fucking teaching hospital entails, man. You’ve been lucky.”

“Lucky, or very good.” I shrugged a little.

“That’s right, Mr. Magic Hands.”

I grimaced. “Don’t bring that up.”

“All right, fine. I know that’s a sore spot, so I won’t joke. But come on, it’s one resident, and I heard she’s pretty good. Graduated top of her class from Penn.”

I glanced down at my drink. As soon as Lori had left my office, I spent all morning Googling her. Franco was right, she was good: smart, well connected, on her way up in the world. She also happened to be very, very attractive. Long, thick dark hair, startlingly green eyes, amber skin, lips that made me want to shake her father’s hand.

But the real reason I accepted the situation was her reaction to me. Most people I’ve met over the years sort of curl up when I’m a little aggressive with them. They don’t want confrontation, and they certainly don’t want it with the up-and-coming young surgeon. Except she didn’t seem to care about that, and was actually pretty pissed off.