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I nod. “True.”
“And don’t tell me it’s her passion, because she can’t act. I saw her on a TV show and she’s just…” Farrah cringes.
“Okay.”
She sighs. “Why make a fool of yourself when you don’t have to?”
I give another shrug. “Maybe she’s just bored.”
“How can you be bored when you’re that rich? You can practically do anything, go anywhere.”
“What would you do?” I ask her.
“Travel the world with Stu. Learn every language. Write a book, maybe produce a movie. Design a hotel on my own island.”
“Wow.”
Farrah looks at the screen as she stirs the ice cubes in her glass of juice with her straw. “I wish I’d been born a Northup.”
I sip from my own straw. I wish the same thing – well, not exactly a Northup, but I wish I’d been born into a rich family. If I was, I wouldn’t have had to see my parents struggle to put me through medical school. I’d still be a doctor, but I’m sure I could find a hundred other ways to help people.
“If you had, maybe you wouldn’t have met Stu,” I tell her.
“True.”
“Hey,” Laura calls everyone’s attention. “Have you seen the new neurosurgeon yet? I hear he’s a real man candy.”
My fingers stiffen around my cup.
“I hear he’s the one who owns this hospital,” Asher says. “I can’t wait to be on his service.”
“I can’t wait to give him some special service.” Laura winks. “Do you think he’d sleep with an intern?”
I choke on my drink and start coughing. I hold a hand to my aching chest. Farrah pats my back.
“Are you okay, Ell?”
I try to answer but can’t, so I just raise my hand.
“What’s wrong with you?” Asher asks. “I heard you spilled coffee this morning, too.”
“Then you overstitched a man’s arm, and now you’ve nearly killed yourself with a glass of juice,” Laura adds.
“So she’s having a bad day. So what?” Farrah defends me. “You had a bad day, too, Laura, not so long ago. Remember when you were crying in the supply closet because Dr. Carver got mad at you?”
Laura frowns. “Well, at least I had a reason. What’s up with Ellis?”
“I’m fine,” I finally manage to say.
I grab a tissue from the pack in the pocket of my white coat and dry the tears from the corners of my eyes. What is it with me today? This is the second time I’ve choked.
“Sure?” Farrah asks me. “Because if you’re not, you can tell me.”
I look at her. A part of me wants to tell her, to get this thing off my chest. But what do I say? That I slept with our boss? Surely, even she isn’t going to like the sound of that.
“I’m fine,” I say again.
“No, you’re not,” Farrah tells me. “If you can’t tell me, that’s fine, but promise me you’ll do something about it, okay? Whatever this is that’s bothering you, it’s affecting the way you work, and that’s not okay, especially because there are other people counting on you. There are lives at stake at this hospital. You better get your act together, Doctor.”
I nod. Just as I thought, Farrah is one of the smartest of us all. She’s right. I’m not fine. I’m shocked. I’m confused. And I can’t stay this way forever, not when I have to make life-or-death decisions for others. I have to sort this out, to clear my head.
“Thanks,” I tell Farrah.
She smiles.
I might not be able to talk to her, but there’s someone I can talk to. Someone I have to talk to so all these thoughts can stop swimming in my head and messing me up.
And I have to do it now before I make another mistake, before I choke again and kill myself, or worse, before I kill someone else.
I stand up and grab my tray. “I have to go.”
~
“Dr. Knight.” I put myself in Rainier’s path as I see him coming down the corridor.
He looks up from his phone. “Smithson. What do you need? I thought you were no longer on my service.”
“Which I find unfair,” I tell him. “Among other things.”
He raises an eyebrow.
I draw a breath. “Can we talk? In…” I look around. “…private?”
Rainier, too, glances around. “Yeah, fine. Follow me.”
I follow him inside the nearest supply closet and we go to the back of the shelves.
“Well?” He folds his arms over his chest.
I place my hands on my hips and look down at my shoes. Belatedly, I realize this may not be the best idea, being alone with Rainier in a room, being this close to him. I can hear his breathing and it makes me remember how he panted as he moved in and out of my body. I can smell his sweat mingled with his cologne, similar to the scent he left on my pillow, the scent that I woke up to this morning. As my gaze travels over his scrubs, I’m well aware of the body he has concealed beneath them, of how that body felt against mine. I look into his deep brown eyes and I’m melting into them again.
