Grumpy Doctor

“It’s not that simple,” Gina said, but by then I wasn’t listening, because in my mind, it was that simple.

I was a doctor. I healed patients, and that was all I did, all I cared about. Gina wanted me to play some other game, some meta game where I made the hospital admins happy, except they didn’t matter, not really. I couldn’t stoop to that level, even if I wanted to.

I stormed back to my office, raging on the inside. All my notes were gone, which would have been a problem if I didn’t have backups on my computer at least. I had procedures today, and I needed those notes and those charts to properly prepare. Taking away my files like that was incredibly dangerous, and yet nobody was going to do a damned thing about it—because they were cowards, all afraid of their jobs, afraid of the system.

I found Lori lingering near my desk. She looked up, her eyes wide, holding a coffee in each hand. I took mine from her and slumped down into my chair.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Caroline,” I said, logging into my personal laptop and pulling up the notes I’d need for the afternoon. Luckily, I had some backup copies saved—but only for my most recent procedures. I kept everything else at work.

“I don’t understand. All your stuff is missing.”

“I know.” I hit print, then slammed my fist down onto the desk.

Lori jumped. I looked up at her and softened. She looked almost as bad as I felt: bags under her eyes, stray hairs flying away from the tight bun on the back of her head. Maybe I was pushing her too hard. I needed to give her a break at some point.

Not yet though. I’d need her to get through today.

“They’re trying to push me out,” I said. “Some part of me thinks they want me to make a mistake.”

“That’s crazy. If you make a mistake, someone could die. They wouldn’t risk that.”

I laughed bitterly. “They might. You think Caroline gives a damn about someone dying? They’re nothing more than a line item on a budget to her.”

Lori looked uncomfortable. She walked to the other side of the room and stopped, leaning up against the empty filing cabinet. “I met with my cousin yesterday.”

I swiveled toward her, sipping my coffee. It was hot and good—one thing I could enjoy, at least. “How’d that go?”

“He encouraged me to leave this hospital,” she said. “Leave you, in particular.”

I smiled slightly, head tilted. “You fished your wish.”

“No,” she said. “I turned him down. I’m not going anywhere.”

I narrowed my eyes. I wasn’t sure why she’d do that—she’d made it clear from the start that she thought I was a total bastard. And yet maybe our little deal mattered to her more than I realized. She knew I was the best damn surgeon in this area, regardless of my sterling personality and my legal issues. She could learn a lot from me.

Or maybe it was something else. Something neither of us were willing to vocalize.

“What else did he say?” I asked.

“He seems to think he knows something,” she said. “He was very sure that you were going to lose your lawsuit.”

“He doesn’t know a thing,” I said, shaking my head. “Probably listening too much to Robert Tippett in the yacht club.”

“I asked him that, and he said it wasn’t from Robert.” She looked shaken, and I realized that what I thought was simple fatigue was actually something more. She was anxious about this, clearly worried, and I suddenly felt extreme guilty for pulling her into this mess.

She didn’t have to be a part of it. The Tippetts wanted to use her against me, and I wanted to use her as a positive reference during the trial. Everyone wanted to pull her in their own direction—including me.

I stood up suddenly. “This isn’t fair,” I said.

“I know, but—”

“No, it’s not fair for you.” I stared at her and felt my hands turn into fists. “You should go. Take whatever job your cousin offered or whatever.”

“What?” Her eyes went wide. “No, I already turned him down. I don’t want to go anywhere.”

I walked past her, fingering the cell phone in my pocket. She followed, calling my name, but I ignored her and kept walking. I reached the stairs and hurried down. Her footsteps echoed against the concrete, practically jogging to keep up. I reached the lobby, went outside, and stood in the early morning sunshine, still in the shadow of the buildings, as I took out my phone and dialed a number.

“What are you doing?” she asked, but I turned, ignoring her.

Robert Tippett answered on the second ring. “Hello, Dr. Hood,” he said, sounding pleased to hear from me. “I didn’t expect your call today. I almost didn’t answer.”

“I’m glad you did.” I glanced at Lori, and realized I had to do something to stop this. Even if it meant getting screwed in the end, she didn’t deserve to get screwed along with me. I was toxic, and if she weren’t careful, she’d end up with an awful reputation right alongside me. I couldn’t allow my stink to rub off on her. “I want to negotiate.”