Page 10 of Scrubbing In
“With that serious look—” she circles her finger around my face “—you're obviously not reliving the insanely hot moment where he swooped you into his arms.”
“Obviously,” I reply drily.
“But it makes for the beginnings of a steamy fantasy. Give you some inspiration for . . .self-care.”
“I’ll leave the self-care fantasies to you.”
“Maybe next time you won’t rush off from the super hot guy you want to bang.”
“I assumed he was blowing me off!” I defend.
“You know what they say about those who assume. I didn’t say it last night, but I think we both know you may have been a little too hasty in leaving.”
“Hey! Stop reading me like an open book!” I harrumph, trying to deflect as I turn for the substerile outer hallway.
“You make it too easy for me! And we’re talking about this later!” she hollers after me.
Shaking my head, I head to my office, attempting to put the possible missed connection with the handsome stranger out of my head.
Lucky for me, I have plenty of work to occupy my mind. While I love having Mondays off, giving me three-day weekends, Tuesdays are always extra busy days. I spend more time than usual gathering, logging, and filing four days worth of paperwork; cleaning up time cards; and checking the surgery schedule for major changes that may have occurred while I was off that can affect our staffing and productivity in the coming days. All really fun stuff.Not.
And to top it all off, I have to show some new surgeon around. I’m expected to drop whatever I’m in the middle of doing whenever he shows up.
At almost half past nine, I get a message from someone named Alisha from Recruiting letting me know she is on her way up with a Dr. Ian Jacobs. Something about her message rubs me the wrong way, like I had no idea this was happening and she better not be inconvenienced because of it.
How about next time give me some sort of idea of when you’ll show up, Alisha.
In an attempt to shake off my sour mood, I focus on taking deep breaths. I hope it's just my current distracted mind taking her text out of context.
That’s one thing that can occur with texting that I hate. Without emotional inflictions and nuance that help you read someone in person, it’s easy to interpret words out of context.
I head to the front desk to check in with the charge nurse, Joanne, and the surgery schedule board.
The buzzer sounds from the locked department door as I’m leaning against the desk to take some weight off my throbbing ankle. I look up to see a woman wave through the passthrough.
Releasing a large exhale, I head over to let them in. I’m guessing this is Alisha Manning and the surgeon I’m supposed to be giving a tour to. Joanne’s snort drifts after me. Stopping to swipe my badge to let the visitors enter, I glance over my shoulder to aim a withering stare at her while shifting my weight to my uninjured foot.
I plaster a smile on my face before I turn back to the opening doors. Andfreeze.
I’m so confused because standing with Alisha, according to her badge, is?—
“I—Julian?” I stutter in surprise, but immediately wince when I unconsciously stand to attention, sharp pain radiating from the sudden weight on my ankle.
Eyes wide, Julian looks just as stunned as I feel. Flicking a look down at my feet as I shift, a grimace crosses his face, as if feeling guilty for the incident yesterday.
“Aleena Cavalli, right?” Alisha says. I slowly tear my gaze from his tall frame, filling out his scrubs in all the right ways. I nod my head dumbly. “This isDr. IanJacobs.” I don’t miss the slight emphasis on his title and name, or the sharp . . .is that a proprietary stare?“I was told you would be showing himaround Surgical Services and escorting him to join Dr. Walsh in surgery.”
“Umm . . . yeah. Yes, that’s right.” Confused and unsure what to do, I extend a trembling hand toward the man who has been on my mind since yesterday. “Welcome, Dr. Jacobs.”
With a tilt of his head, Julian scratches at his beard as he replies, “Thank you,A-leena.”
With a brittle smile, I drop my hand in embarrassment. Knowing my face must betray my inner turmoil, I correct him. “Actually, I go by Leena.”
My eyes dart to his bicep where Alisha just placed her hand, then I glance up to see her smiling at Julian—no,Dr. IanJacobs. What the fuck?—“I look forward to seeing you later,” he responds with a noncommittal hum, never tearing his intense gaze off me. I automatically swipe my badge to open the double doors for Alisha to exit, and when I do, I catch her mouth turn down at the corners before she leaves.
Jerking around, I ignore the pain and move down the wide hallway. Limply indicating to my right, “Pre-op.” Pausing, I inhale through my nose then release it slowly before continuing, “Unless a patient is brought directly to the OR or it’s after hours, all patients will be taken to the back from here.”
Julian’s hand reaches out to grasp my forearm, stopping me from proceeding into Pre-op. Gasping, the heat of his grip shocks me into looking down at his large hand. Seeing his tanned skin against my paler complexion and how his long fingers easily encircle my arm makes me shiver.
