It meant nothing.
That made me feel nothing, made all those feelings evaporate like steam from a hot cup of tea. “No, I’m fine. Just a little overwhelmed with everything we’ve got to do. That’s all.”
Dex took my statement at face value and moved on.
The waitress came over, and I ordered my beer, choosing something light since we’d probably be there for a while. “I’m glad you made things right with your family.”
His playfulness vanished and he turned serious, just the way he did the last time I saw him. “Yeah, I needed to pull my head out of my ass.” He gave me a forced smile then brought the tip of the bottle to his lips again for a drink.
“And I’m glad you’ve decided to give this another try.”
He folded his muscular arms on the table and gave a slight shrug. “Key word…try.”
“Well, I’m happy to try with you.”
“I’m surprised you took the job. You seemed to like being a concierge for the Trinity Building.”
“I did.”
“Then why leave?” he asked. “I’ve got to be honest with you. I’m not just opening up a practice and jumping back into the fray. There’s a very good chance I’ll realize this isn’t for me and call it quits again. That means you’re putting your job in jeopardy, and by the time that happens, your position at the Trinity Building will be filled and there’s no going back.” He propped his elbows on the table and folded his hands together as he stared at me, becoming stiff and serious.
I’d understood the risk when Cleo offered me the job. Dex was half in, half out, and he was definitely a flight risk. The salary she offered was twice what I got paid working for her, not to mention really great medical benefits, but that wasn’t the biggest incentive. “I believe in you, Dex.” I’d watched him spring into action and save someone’s life like it really mattered whether Mr. Carlton lived or died. I saw the kindness in his eyes—and saw it reach down to his heart. Most doctors at his level of specialty cared more about the recognition and the money, but it was obvious Dex wasn’t like that.
As if he had no idea what to say, he just stared at me, speechless.
“I’m sorry that you lost a patient you cared about, but most doctors don’t care about their patients. We both know the reason they got into this specialty was because of the money and the respect. But that isn’t the right reason to cut someone open. It’s ironic that you’re a heart surgeon—because you actually have a heart.”
He abruptly dropped his gaze and looked at the table.
“Don’t dwell on your failures. Focus on your contributions. I did my research and read everything about you, and I’ve looked into your research, your humanitarian and philanthropic work with underprivileged people who either can’t access or can’t afford quality care. And just in the last year alone, there have been so many forums created where people are trying to figure out what doctor to see because you aren’t available. Your name still pops up. Your former patients still talk about you all over social media and how you’ve given them their lives back. Your work on alternative heart valve replacements has revolutionized the medical field. I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to quit. This is where you belong. This is what you should be doing.”
He lifted his gaze and looked at me again, his brown eyes turning steely and focused. That charismatic and playful guy disappeared, and there was a new man sitting in front of me, someone who had become withdrawn and thoughtful, mulling over my words like he could play them in his mind all over again, from start to finish.
“I know it’s easy to focus on the bad instead of the good sometimes, but you’ve done far more good than bad. Whatever happened…forgive yourself. You’re a superhero without a cape. People need you.”
He shifted his gaze out the window and stared into the darkness for a while, his jaw suddenly tight, his eyes showing the internal loathing he had to battle. “I appreciate the flattery—”
“It’s not flattery. It’s fact.”
He turned quiet again.
“I’m not going to accept defeat from you, Dex. If I do, people will die.”
He slowly turned back to me and looked at me once more.
It wasn’t an exaggeration. I wasn’t being melodramatic. If patients didn’t get access to the best hands in the world, their outcomes would be completely different. They would go to doctors who didn’t care whether they lived or died, just the fancy cars parked at their mansions in upstate New York. “Are you with me?” I couldn’t downplay my passion because it was a vital part of my soul. I’d never been so committed to anything in my life, ever felt a calling that spoke to me on such a deep level.