* * *
Minutes after leaving the CICU Michelle knocked on the chief of surgery’s office door.
“Enter,” she heard from the other side of the door.
She didn’t always agree with Dr. Marshall’s decisions or directives but she did think he was fair. He had been a mentor of sorts to her and more than once had gone to bat for her when there had been a problem between her and Administration. For the most part, though, he left her alone to do her job. He was old school but supportive. When he’d gone through medical school it had been almost entirely a man’s profession so a female heart surgeon had made him feel a little uneasy.
She opened the door, stepped in and closed it behind her. The balding doctor leaned back in his chair, interest written on his face.
“To what do I owe this visit? I don’t think you’ve been in my office for some time.”
“Bob, you know I don’t complain much.”
He nodded, his eyes intently watching her.
“But I can’t allow the new supply anesthesiologist to work in my OR again.”
Dr. Marshall propped his arms on his desk, concern on his face. “Is the patient okay?”
“The patient is fine. Doing very well really.”
He relaxed. “Then what’s the problem? Smith, I think his name is, came highly recommended. Good CV. Excellent, actually.”
“I cannot have the man showing up late for procedures.”
Bob looked at her incredulously. “Why did he show up late?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“Did you ask him?”
“No. I didn’t. I just need the people on my team to be on time.”
“If that is the only fault you can find I think you should ask him why. I know you run a tight ship but we are all late sometimes.”
“I’m not.”
Bob released an exaggerated huff. “I know you’re not. It might be good if you were occasionally.” He said the last few words so quietly that she almost missed them. “Michelle, I think you’re overreacting a bit. We’re short an anesthesiologist and I can’t shift everyone around just to suit you. Smith is more than qualified in cardiothoracic surgery. Unless he has or is doing something to harm a patient, you’re just going to have to find a way to work with him.”
“But—”
“Michelle, I know you’re a driven physician. I can appreciate that but I think you can work this out without involving me. Smith is only here for six weeks. Surely you can handle working with him that long.”
His desk phone rang and his hand hovered over the receiver. “Let me know if there’s an issue involving a patient.” He picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”
She’d been dismissed. Opening the door, Michelle stepped out into the hall and closed it behind her.
With no support, she was left no choice but to get along with the new guy. How was she going to manage that? Everything about him rubbed her the wrong way.
* * *
Ty stepped out into the warm, damp May evening, glad to head home or at least to the place he’d call home for the next few weeks. He’d never known a real brick-and-mortar house until he’d been sixteen and had left his mother and father to go and live with his grandparents.
He shoved a hand through his hair and rolled his neck one way and then the other to get the kinks out. It had taken him longer than he’d anticipated but he’d finished introducing himself to the next day’s OR patients before he’d left the hospital.
Hooking his black leather bomber jacket on his index finger, he slung it over his shoulder and started in the direction of his motorcycle. A woman dressed in what he could see was a trim-fitting skirt was walking some distance ahead.
In the dim light he couldn’t make out the color of her hair or clothes but as a red-blooded man he couldn’t help but notice the provocative sway of her hips as she walked in and out of the shadows. She moved as if she was a model strutting on a runway in Paris. It was a sexy stride if he’d ever seen one. He wouldn’t mind making the woman’s acquaintance while he was here. Maybe she worked in one of the business departments in the hospital. He’d have to make a few inquiries in the morning.
With a feeling of disappointment he watched her step between two parked cars, leaving only her head visible. A minute later Ty approached the back of what must be her car. She glanced at him. The male anticipation he’d developed and fostered while watching her walk suddenly received an icy shower.
“Dr. Ross!” He couldn’t have contained his astonishment if he’d tried. That amazingly hot strut belonged to the ice queen.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. The key fob she held fell to the ground.
“Dr. Smith. Are you looking for me?” Her voice sounded a little high.
He’d certainly been looking at her, admiring her even.
She kneeled gracefully to retrieve her keys. “Is something wrong with our patient?”
“As far as I know, the patient is fine.”
“Then why are you here?”
“This is a public parking lot. My bike is just over there.” He pointed past her.
She glanced over her shoulder in the direction he indicated. “You ride a motorcycle?” Her voice was both shocked and accusatory. “They’re so dangerous.”
“Ever been on one?”
“No!”
“Try it. You might like it.”
He looked down at her trim ankles balanced on spiky high heels. “Of course, that outfit might draw attention if you did. You’d show so much thigh that you might be stopped for being a traffic hazard.” He chuckled.
His grin grew when her head dipped in what could only be described as embarrassment. Unless he was mistaken, her cheeks were the same rosy pink he remembered her shoes as being. Something about her reaction made him believe that she wasn’t used to receiving compliments from men. That barbed-wire attitude of hers probably kept her from getting many. She was certainly attractive enough to receive them.
“I have no interest in being a traffic hazard.” She opened the door of the car, slid in and slammed the door between them.
She might not want to be one but the woman certainly had everything required.
Ty moved on through the lot. It was necessary for her to pass him to leave. As she drove by her gaze found his and held for a second of awareness before she sped up and was gone.
Yes, the next few weeks would unquestionably be interesting.
* * *
Michelle pulled into the drive of her mother’s simple red-brick suburban home. It was located in a neighborhood where all the houses along the street looked similar. The curtains of the living-room window fluttered and her mother’s face appeared. Getting out of the car, Michelle opened the back passenger door and removed two plastic bags of groceries.
She headed for the front door. Seconds before she reached it the door opened. “Mom, you didn’t need to get up. I could have let myself in.”
Her tall but frail-looking mother, with a dusting of gray in her hair, smiled. “I know, dear, but you have your hands full.”
“And the doctor said to take it easy for a while.”
“I have been. You worry too much. What do doctors know anyway?” Her smile grew.
Michelle returned her grin. It was a running joke between them. Her mother was very proud of Michelle and told her so often. As the only parent Michelle had left, she worried about her mother, unable to stand the thought of losing her in both body and spirit. Then she would be alone in the world.
“Mom, why don’t you come and sit in the kitchen while I put these groceries away and see about getting us some supper?”
“I’d like that. You can tell me about your day. You work too hard, you know. Doing surgery all day and then coming here to see about me.”
That was also a continuing argument between them. One that neither one of them seemed to ever win.
Her mother followed Michelle along the familiar hallway to the small but cozy kitchen. This was Mi