Grumpy Doctor

“Not really. I think he was ready to change before I got here. I think I’m just one more project to him.”

She laughed softly. “I can see that. Why’d he bring you, by the way?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He said I should network. I think he just wanted someone he could boss around if things got bad.”

“You don’t have it easy, do you?”

“But I wouldn’t change it for the world. He’s making me a much better surgeon.”

She tapped her finger on the glass then shook her head. “I’ll admit, I’m happy to see him here, and I’m happy to see him performing. But I’m afraid it’s not enough. Tell him I said hello, I was on my way out.” She smiled at me and walked off, leaving her glass on an empty table, and skirting around the edge of the crowd.

I watched her go, my face a cloud of anger and confusion.

I knew this wasn’t going to instantly fix everything, but I thought at least it would be a start. Gina seemed to think it was a good thing—but she also didn’t seem like she wanted to give Piers a chance at all.

Like it didn’t matter what he did. They were still going to fire him.

I finished my drink and got another. Piers joined me a while later, sitting at a table toward the back as the rest of the crowd continued to mill about. A woman gave a speech about the charity—breast cancer, as it happened—and most of the people in the room gave her barely more than half their attention.

“You’re killing it out there,” I said as he leaned toward me.

“Not too hard. I’m a novelty to these people.”

“Are you? I don’t know. You can be charming sometimes.”

“Obviously, since you’re so smitten.”

“Easy there, tiger.” I turned my glass around in little circles. “I ran into Gina earlier.”

“What’d she have to say for herself?”

“It was weird. She seemed surprised and happy you were here, but then almost like it didn’t matter.”

His face clouded as he drummed his fingers on the table. “How do you mean?”

“Like no matter what you do, you’re getting fired. Win, lose, didn’t change anything, they wanted you gone, and so you were gone.”

He leaned back in his chair and watched the woman speaker. She was young, in her thirties maybe, straight dark hair, conservative dress.

“I got that sense,” he said. “Talking to some of the people here.”

“Really? They know what’s going on at the hospital.”

“No,” he said. “But they know about the Tippett lawsuit. They just keep saying, they’re so sorry, so sorry, they wish they could do something. And you know what? They could, if they wanted. It’s like I’m already dead and I didn’t even know it.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “I thought this could be a turning point.”

“I’m starting to think there’s no turning point. There’s no going back.”

“Piers—”

“This was probably a waste of time.” He pushed his drink away. “I should go.”

“Piers,” I said as he stood and walked off. I followed him, hurrying out into the lobby, my heels clacking over the marble. I caught up as we stepped out into the evening, and he didn’t look at me as we crossed the street toward the parking garage.

He slowed as we walked down the sloping concrete ramp toward the cars, then stopped and faced me. “You know what’s sort of sick?”

“What?” Shadows lengthened all around us in the dim gloom of the structure.

“I wanted to change,” he said. “I still want to change. It’s not easy for me, doing all this socializing shit. If I had my way, I’d keep my head down and concentrate on my procedures. For a long time nothing else mattered.”

“But now you see maybe there’s more.”

“There shouldn’t be.” He turned away, looking out across the gloomy structure. “It should be about the patients, but it’s not.”

“Gina said it’s a workplace. We’re with other people there, whether we like it or not, and you can’t only be nice to the patients. You have to keep the other doctors and staff in mind.”

“I realize that.” He glanced back at me. “Do you think it’s too late?”

I shook my head. “No, I really don’t.”

He took a deep breath then slowly let it out. “Well, shit, look at that.”

I followed his gaze and caught sight of a shadow standing next to a support pole—a shadow that moved, and resolved into Ted the private detective.

“He’s good,” I said. “Really dedicated.”

“Good thing I didn’t kiss you.” Piers shook his head. “That motherfucker.”

“Come on. Let’s just go, okay?”

Piers hesitated, staring at Ted, but cursed again and let me lead him back to the car.

The night didn’t go the way I wanted. I thought that Caroline or Gina, or someone with power would be impressed by his attempt, but not it felt like the whole thing was futile, and we might as well give up.