Grumpy Doctor

“So you’re sort of like spot reading them.”

“Right, if you want to use a musical metaphor. But metaphor only gets you so far. They don’t teach you this in med school because they don’t want to scare a bunch of perfectly passable surgeons away, but the fact is, learning the procedure is never enough. You need to learn to understand the variations between people, and how much you can take, before you can be good.”

He pushed off the wall and began to walk away.

I stood there, feeling dumbfounded and overwhelmed. It was like my first day of school again, except I was in the real world with real lives at stake, and I suddenly knew for certain that I was so far from ready.

That man was a genius. An asshole, and a bastard, but holy hells. He was a genius.

I hurried after him and trailed after in his wake. I almost wished I hadn’t seen that surgery back there—before it, he was just another asshole doctor. But now I understood that he was an asshole who could back it up.

And maybe, just maybe, I could learn a lot from him.

I knew I was smart. I knew I was skilled. I had good hands and good instincts, and I’d proved that to myself over and over in school. Now though, it was time to kick off the training wheels—and I was terrified I’d fall on my face.

Nothing else I could do but try.

4

Piers

I had to admit, I liked the way she looked at me.

I knew what she thought: I was just another asshole doctor with an enormous ego and nothing to back it up. She heard the rumors that I was good, but she hadn’t sat in on one of my procedures and hadn’t seen what I could do. Afterward, the way she stared, shit, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t like it.

There was admiration in her eyes.

She was a smart girl. Her answer to my vague question afterward was impressive, and based on some of what I’d heard about her, maybe she wasn’t just some rich guy’s cousin after all. She might have potential, and though I’d never trained someone before, I felt like I was up to the task. And so, when I left her that day to do whatever it was she did when I didn’t bother giving her instructions, I sat in my office and decided I was going to do this for real.

I’d train her, no bullshit. I’d teach her what I knew and make her the best surgeon in the place, or at least make her the best version of herself possible. There was only so much I could do at the end of the day.

The next morning, I sent her down to do my laundry again while I prepped for my next surgery. After five minutes of going over my notes, there was a knock at the door. I swiveled around.

“Are you back already?” I barked. “You separate the darks from the lights then—”

Gina pushed open the door. “Excuse me?”

I stopped and cleared my throat. “Hello, Gina,” I said.

“Good morning, Piers.” She stood in my doorway, arms crossed over her chest. She could be a real pain in my ass, but she was my boss, and generally I got a lot of leeway from her. Most doctors my age didn’t have a nice office like I did and didn’t get to set their own hours. I even chose my own caseload, though not always the patients I took on. She had say in that, which was fine. Generally speaking, I didn’t much care who or what, so long as it was interesting.

Still, after Nil Tippett—things had been tense between us.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve gotten complaints.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

She rolled her eyes. “I bet right now you’re frantically trying to remember who you’ve insulted recently.”

“Actually, I sort of doubt that’s the problem here. If it were, you would’ve given me shit for it a while ago.”

“Okay, you got me there.” She pursed her lips. “You’ve been making Lori do laundry.”

“And?” I tilted my head. “Don’t residents get the worst jobs?”

“She’s a smart girl, Piers. You could use her, you know.”

I smirked a bit at that. If she only knew how I wanted to use pretty Lori.

“I’m aware,” I said. “She sat in on a surgery yesterday. Impressed me afterwards.”

An arched eyebrow from the boss. “Did she?”

“I know you think I’m nothing more than an arrogant, cynical bastard.”

“I certainly do.”

“And you’re right. But I know a good doctor when I see one, and I think she’s got potential.”

“So you’ll stop making her do laundry?”

I snorted and shook my head. “Hell no. She’s doing my laundry until I say she can stop.”

“The staff are complaining.”

“Let them.” I swiveled back to my notes. “Can I do something else for you?”