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"And you are?"
"Dr. Emmy Shaw, and I'm happy to help you with everything you need. Satisfaction guaranteed. I'm a surgeon you know. I operate on hearts."
Obnoxious much?
"Oh, I'm sorry, but I need someone to look at my stomach because that lame ass pick-up line is gonna make me throw up soon. Shouldn't you be professional?"
"Why so defensive? Here at Chicago General, we like to have a good rapport with our patients, so I can help you with whatever you need now, or you can give me your number, and I can arrange a house call."
"Or I can give you a Colombian Tie. I'm looking for Dr. James Sullivan."
"Because you need a neurological consult?"
Why was this Shaw guy still here? And could someone just tell me where the hell I should go? Did I mention my patience was not my strongest asset?
"No, I need to see him because he's my husband, and his daughter wants to say hello, so could you, doctor, tell me where the hell I can find him?" I didn’t know what was with all the secrecy. I was looking for a doctor, not the president.
I didn’t know if it was my tone or the sarcasm that rolled off my tongue, but suddenly, Emmy Shaw sobered up and looked at me in surprise.
"Wife, really?"
"Rita Sullivan, yours truly. It was a pleasure but..."
"Sure, he's in the ER right now but go up to the fourth flour and ask the nurses to get you to his office. I'll let him know you're here. Wow."
"And what's the wow for?"
"I expected Sully to take more time to lick his wounds, but here you are. And a smoking hot Latina, no less." No less indeed. Did he just call my husband Sully? "How are those two idiots always getting the sexy girls before me?"
I didn't quite get that last part, but he turned around and left before I got the chance to ask for explanations.
The first thing I did when I started my shift was to fix myself a big cup of black tea. I didn’t drink coffee, but I needed a caffeine boost before I went down to the pharmacy and started popping oxycodone. I was about to fix the lid on my thermos when the door of the attending lounge flew open, and the Fantastic Four walked in. Jessica was marching in front of them like she was leading a unit of marine snipers.
Fuck. Me.
"Time to talk, Sullivan," she said, and my palms grew sweaty.
I needed to make a decision and quick. What did I do, spit more lies in their faces to drag myself out of this or come clean?
"I made a very big decision; from now on, I only want to be friends with Wendy and London," I said and went to put my arms around the shoulders of the two women. "Because you and Zach are two dicks."
"He is a dick. I'm a pretty vagina."
"Pardon, I am a huge, thick, impressive dick."
I laughed at Zach's childish brag. He was the most brilliant man in a twenty-mile radius, but he never outgrew his jerk teenage faze.
"That's not what one of my only two friends, London, tells everyone, my man."
"Stop trying to change the subject, Sullivan. I know for a fact London loves me and my dick, and Jess thinks you have a lot on your mind, so speak up. Your hormones must be killing you from all the secrecy."
"That's not how hormones work, and you know it. I am fine."
Jessica made a face, and that was fine because she loved to get into other people's food and lives, but when I saw Wendy looking at me with her piercing eyes, I knew I had no way out. She put a hand on my chest and patted me gently.
"James, you have a woman in your house, and we don't know anything about it. You know I wouldn't encourage them to violate your privacy, but it's really out of character for you." She had no idea. "And you said you're hiding things. That works like drugs for Jessica; she will not stop until you tell us all the dirt."
From the other side, London hugged my waist and squeezed to show her support. At least I knew I had these two in my corner.
