Page 35 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“Let’s get moving, then,” he announced and stood beside the patient. “Okay, Carmen,” Will said behind his surgical mask as he gripped her hand tightly. “We’re going to have you breathe in some medicine that will put you to sleep so we can perform the surgery quickly,” he instructed while the anesthesiologist placed the mask over her face. “Just take deep breaths. I promise everything is going to be okay.”

As Carmen started to fade to sleep, Will prepared for surgery. His eyes met mine, and he nodded toward my hand that was still striving to keep the baby’s head off of the umbilical cord. “Can you hang in there for about thirty more seconds?”

“Yep.” Honestly, looking into his confident, proud eyes, I felt like I could do anything.

Once the patient was under anesthesia, Dr. Cummings got to work. He didn’t waste any time, making a clean cut and working at a quick yet smooth pace. I’d seen a lot of physicians perform C-sections, and I’d seen a lot of physicians perform C-sections under stressful situations, and it was apparent that Will was the Chief of Obstetrics for a reason.

When it came to emergent situations, he stayed cool, calm, and collected. He never raised his voice at the staff, and that alone made a world of difference, keeping everyone else relaxed and focused as well.

It took a lot to impress me when it came to the medical field, especially obstetrics.

And I couldn’t deny that Will had impressed me.

Moments later, healthy cries filled the room as Will held up a pint-sized baby girl. The waiting neonatal nurse took the baby from his hands, and I think everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief when the first minute Apgar was announced as nine.

“You saved her life, you know,” Will said, and his eyes met mine. “You saved that little girl’s life.”

I stared back at him.

“You did good, Mel,” he added as he continued to finish the surgery. “You did really good.”

There was a part of me that was happy, excited, and grateful that I was able to act quickly and do what needed to be done. And I definitely felt warm about Will’s recognition and trust in my ability.

But there was another part of me that felt sad.

Sad that Carmen had slipped through the cracks. Sad that she had gone nearly her entire pregnancy without any prenatal care. Sad that if she hadn’t come to the hospital when she did, she could have lost her baby.

There was a big issue with the way the health care system worked.

There shouldn’t be any woman out there, no matter her ethnicity or socioeconomic status, who didn’t have access to the health care she needed. Maybe if there had been a women’s free clinic within St. Luke’s, Carmen would have gotten the prenatal care she needed.

It was something to think about.

And it was definitely something a lot of women in the city would benefit from.

And what better place than St. Luke’s?

After all, it’d sure been doing a good job of giving me what I needed.

I tried not to read the sparkling crystals as they winked up at me under the fluorescent lights. I mean, I was a goddamn professional. But professionalism only went so far.

Especially when each crystal, placed precisely and with intent, played a part in spelling out the words “Date me, Dr. Obscene.”

Dr. Obscene? Fucking seriously?

“It’s what they call you,” the exposed woman offered without prompting. Obviously, my face wasn’t completely with the professional program.

Shit. Maybe this is why I always lose at Thatch’s poker nights.

I glanced up to Melody, hoping she’d save me, but she just shook her head. She had no idea what the fuck was going on either.

At least I’m not alone.

Wait… My eyes narrowed as Melody looked to the ground and smiled.

Fuck. Maybe she did know what the hell was going on. She was just good at pretending like she didn’t. The more I scrutinized her expression, the more certain I was that she, unlike me, wasn’t surprised by the words adorning our current patient’s vagina.

I tried to get her attention, but it didn’t work. She was a like a Jedi at avoidance, and I only had myself to blame—I’d given her all that practice right off the bat. She knew my weaknesses.