I turned to look at her, seeing her in a short skirt with black tights underneath, along with a skintight sweater. As always, she looked incredible…and distracting. I really needed to stop looking at her like that when she was my assistant, my colleague. If I couldn’t get my shit together, I might have to change the dress code. It would be baggy sweats and loose tops from now on. “Most of them are on top of their game, some are brilliant, and some are just so awkward that I can’t imagine they’ll have decent bedside manners.”
“That’s where you come in, right?” She set the bag on the desk.
“My job is to teach them to be good surgeons, not therapists.”
“And isn’t a good surgeon someone who keeps the patient calm and hopeful because that directly impacts their recovery?”
I sank into my chair and stared at her, seeing the victory in her eyes because she totally had me, and she knew it. “Yes…true.”
“Then maybe include that in your lesson plan. Tell them about your humanitarian work. Tell them about Thamuku. Bring pictures.”
It wasn’t a terrible idea.
“They’re smart. You’re smart. They got through medical school, and so did you. What’s the difference between the two of you? What’s the difference between you and every other surgeon out there?”
I stared at her.
She pointed her finger into my chest, right at my heart. “That beautiful thing right there. Focus on that.”
I gave a shrug in agreement. “I guess you have a point.”
“I mean, I know you’re a genius and a prodigy and all that too.”
I shifted my gaze and looked at the brown paper bag. “What’s this?” I pulled it close then peeked inside to see the sandwich and bag of chips.
“Dinner. But I know you’ve been in the lab all day looking at dead people, so I understand if you aren’t hungry.”
I chuckled as I unwrapped the sandwich. “Oh, I’m always hungry. I’ll be in a twelve-hour surgery, and my stomach will growl and the nurses will laugh.”
“That’s amazing. I’m not a wuss, but I just couldn’t do that…all the blood and everything else.”
I opened the bag and munched on a couple chips. “It’s not for everyone.”
She moved to the armchair near my desk and took a seat, crossing her legs, her eyelashes thick and smoky. “I feel like you’re much happier than you used to be.”
I leaned back in the desk chair and continued to eat my chips. “What are the instances you’re comparing?” This was my first week back into my old schedule, minus patient care, and prior to that, she saw me work on people’s computers and make jokes about porn.
“Well, at the Trinity Building, you were friendly and outgoing, but it always kinda seemed like a façade.”
She picked up on that? Only my family noticed.
“And now you’re more serious, more thoughtful. There’s this excitement about you that seems genuine, like you’re excited to get to your class or your research lab. When you talked about your first day and all the data you read, it was like you could hardly wait to get to work. Your passion and drive are growing. And when you looked at that picture of Thamuku on your wall, you showed a deep level of humanity that just doesn’t exist in society anymore. I feel like this change is really good for you.”
Sicily seemed to notice a lot of things about me that others didn’t. Catherine never said things like that, even when we were at our happiest. She asked me about my surgeries and how my day was, but she never recognized or praised me for my good qualities. She bragged that I was the best heart surgeon in the world, but she never talked about me as a person. “Yeah, I think I am happier. More fulfilled. If I can never go back to surgery, I guess I could just do this.”
She shook her head slightly. “You’ll get there, Dex.”
I went back to eating my chips, unable to truly picture myself standing there in the OR with a patient on the table, sedated and ready to be cut right down the middle so I could get access to the heart.
She watched me for a few more seconds, in case I had something to say.
I didn’t.
“I made an appointment with Mr. Torres for next week.”
I stilled at her declaration, my hand inside the bag, my fingertips touching the salty chips.
“It’s just a consultation. I thought you could go examine him—”
“Did I ask you to do that?”
Her arms slowly crossed over her chest, her guard rising in preparation for my hostility. “I just thought—”
“Did I ask you to do that?” I didn’t get angry often, but when it happened, it was bad. It was like a spark on a hillside. If you didn’t put it out right away, it launched into a forest fire that destroyed acres and acres of land.