Without meaning to, I finished on my own. I cleaned up, tucked my throbbing dick into my pants and went back to the living room.
“Is everything okay?” Natalie asked, still nude on my couch. She eyed the bulge in my pants.
“Actually, it’s not,” I said warily. “I think it’s best if you went home.”
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, her eyes big with worry.
“No,” I replied. “I’m suddenly not feeling very good. It was nice of you to come over, though. I’ll give you a call another time,” I lied, fully planning on deleting her number from my phone the minute she left.
Confused, she pulled on her clothes and walked to the elevator. I slipped her some money for cab fare and she disappeared into the night. When she was out of sight, I stormed to my bedroom and flopped down on my bed.
Admittedly, I had come off a little too strong on her at the bar, misjudging her intentions. I wasn’t really used to trying too hard to seal a deal, and I got lazy. Usually, I could get a girl to do whatever I wanted if I simply bought her a drink and told her she was beautiful. I wasn’t used to putting in the hard work to woo a girl.
Perhaps I misjudged the subject, too. While I had successfully courted interns in the past, Olivia must have gotten the wrong idea when I asked her to go out with me. Any girl with a lick of wherewithal would have known that doctors don’t ask their interns to go to bars unless they want something that goes beyond education. What was I supposed to do? When we got to talking after the session, was I supposed to tell her that I found her cute and fun to talk with, so we should go on a date and discuss a future hookup? I thought I was doing the professional thing by removing any explicit language from the hospital. Then, when we were a safe distance away from there, I would make my intentions more clear.
I could own up to my mistakes in this particular situation. I should have known better than to be subtle with someone naïve. But, at the same time, I had just met the girl.
She didn’t have to pour her drink on me. It was embarrassing, having to pay my tab, dripping with booze. Everyone stared at me as I walked from the bar. I was used to having people stare at me because they knew who I was and my success in the surgical field. I had never experienced people staring at me because someone made an ass out of me. I didn’t mind having the reputation of someone who got around. What I didn’t want, was the reputation that I was a jerk to women. When it was all said and done, girls could say whatever they wanted about me. But, I didn’t need anyone’s public display of rejection.
What troubled me most was how hung up I was about this rejection. I wasn’t really used to being turned down, but I knew that if a girl ever said no to me, I would be annoyed, but not this upset about it. I also knew that I was left in a difficult spot, since I figured she’d be a lock for the event on Friday, but the drink dumping effectively turned me down. All of those factors aside, I still felt this weird sensation in the pit of my stomach when I thought about her.
It wasn’t as if I had feelings for her. That would be stupid. I didn’t even know the girl. She was cute, but she wasn’t a supermodel that I just had to have. Maybe I was so rattled by her because she was the one who got away. I wanted her and she didn’t want me. That was all the explanation I could think of, anyway.
I let Olivia stew in my mind for the rest of the evening. I dreaded having to face her tomorrow before rounds, but I couldn’t show it. I wasn’t about to let her win this one.
The next day, I spent a little extra time getting ready. I knew that she would be in the morning session and I wanted her to know what she was missing out on. I strode into the conference room with my head held high and pretended not to notice her in the back of the room.
“Good morning, interns,” I announced at the beginning of the session. “I’ve got some exciting news. We are going to hold a little essay contest. Because most of you will have interviews for specific internships coming up in the next few weeks, I thought it would be a good idea to get a little practice. But, because I know you have a lot on your plate at the moment, we’ll keep it short. I want a three page paper, the first thing I want you to write about is why you believe you would be the ideal candidate for the internship you are interested in.”
I looked up to see the students furiously scribbling notes in their notebooks.
“The second topic is surprisingly harder to answer and it’s too easy to give a lame and cliché answer. Tell me where you want to be in ten years. If you don’t bore me to death, I think I’ll automatically give you an A. At the same time, you have to make the answer exactly what I want to hear. It’s not an easy task.”
Before I continued, I looked straight at Olivia. She was quietly writing notes, her head lowered toward the desk.
“The last one will prepare you for the kind of anecdotal proof that employers want when deciding if you’re a competent candidate. I want you to describe a time where you made a professional mistake. We’re all human, and your employer will want to know that you’re willing to fess up when you’ve screwed up. They also want to know how you went about fixing your mistake and ensuring that it didn’t happen again. There are lots of ways you can go with this one. You might even recall a meeting with someone that ended poorly. You guys won’t believe this, but one time, I was about to offer a promising young intern an in that would change her career forever. But, she took my offer as a ploy to get into her pants and threw a drink in my face.”
The class reacted exactly how I hoped they would. Shocked gasps and giggles erupted throughout the room. Olivia continued to look at her notepad, as if she were too busy to hear my fun stories.
“So, if you’ve ever done anything like that, you may choose to write about that experience and show why you did the thing you did, and how you corrected your error. I think I can give you until next week to write out a well thought out paper.”
“Did you say this was a contest?” a male intern asked.
I smiled. “Yes, it is. The best essay will not only get top marks on their paper, but the unique opportunity to accept an internship with me.”
I waited for the excited murmurs and whispers to quiet down before continuing.
“Everyone, given the fact that you have conducted yourself professionally within this session, has the opportunity to win the prize. Play your cards right, and you’ll be able to learn from not only me, but other top surgeons here at CUIMC. Now, for the rest of the time today, you’re going to go over your bedside manners. Split up into your small groups and practice how you are going to speak to grieving loved ones. I’ll be coming around to see what you’re discussing and hopefully provide insight.”
I watched as chairs shuffled around and light conversation developed. I tried not to stare at Olivia and study her expressions, trying to figure out what she was thinking about. I thought my point landed, though. At least I had the decency to keep her identity private, instead of humiliating her in front of her peers.
As I began to make my rounds, I stood near her group, not necessarily looking her direction, and listened for a little bit.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sims, I am so sorry, we did everything we could, but the blockage in your son’s heart proved too much and he passed away on the surgical table.”
“But he is only sixteen! How is that possible?” Olivia said. “What did you do to my boy?”
“Me?” the intern squeaked. “I-I didn’t do it! It wasn’t my fault he died!”
“Allen, I don’t think stammering and practically shouting is going to be a good way to go,” Olivia interjected. “You need to remain calm and composed. Empathetic.”
“Really? Then how bout you give it a go?”
Olivia nodded. She closed her eyes and then looked sad but serene as she said, “Mr. and Mrs. Sims, I’m Dr. Hunter. The news isn’t good I’m afraid. Kevin was brought in for chest pain, he experienced a severe heart attack that he was unable to recover from. We attempted to perform an emergency surgery to help get him stable, but his he
art was too damaged and he didn’t make it.”
“How? How did he have a heart attack at sixteen?” Allen the intern begged her to answer.
“When we performed the surgery, we noticed there was a blockage in the main artery that was caused by a blood clot. Had he recently sustained any injuries that might cause this? We did notice serious bruising on his right shoulder, did he perhaps play a contact spot?”
“Yes, he plays football,” the other intern, Sarah answered.
Olivia nodded. “Yes that could have led to the severe bruising and then the blood clot breaking loose. Blood clots are dangerous and can affect the old and the young. I am so sorry for your loss.”
“Wow, you’re really good,” Allen replied, “you had an answer for everything and you never took the blame.”
Olivia smiled.