Present Day
My first patient scheduled in the afternoon is at one-thirty. It’s a tight squeeze to get back to our practice from the hospital, where I spent the entire morning operating. My lunch is a burrito from the food cart that’s always parked outside the emergency room entrance. I have to eat the burrito while driving.
But there’s nothing unusual about that. I eat the majority of my meals while driving. I don’t think I could navigate the road from the hospital to my office without a burrito in one hand and the steering wheel in the other. I chug from my water bottle at the red lights.
I park my car in the lot outside our office building at one-thirty-five. I skip the elevator and race up the two flights to the practice I share with Philip. The gold sign on the door says Corey and Davis Surgical Associates.Hegets to be first. His main arguments were that he’s been in practice longer, and also, he’s first alphabetically. I let himhave that one.
When I get up to the third floor, I’m gasping for air. I’ve allowed myself to get dangerously out of shape over the last decade. I have to remember I’m not in my twenties anymore. If I eat too many more burritos while driving, I might end up with an early coronary.
Then again, heart disease is one thing that doesn’t run in my family.
I’ve nearly managed to catch my breath by the time I burst into the office. The waiting room is empty, and Harper is at her desk, tapping on the keys of her computer. She looks up when I come in and offers me a friendly smile.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Davis!” she chirps. I have told her no less than a thousand times to call me Nora, but she still calls me Dr. Davis. I suppose it’s a sign of respect. “Your first patient is already waiting in the examining room.”
“Oh.” I gulp in some air. I need to get back in shape. “Who is it?”
“Arnold Kellogg.”
I wince. This is Mr. Kellogg’s first post-op appointment after his hernia repair, and I know he’s going to be testy about being kept waiting. I look down at my watch. Seven minutes late. Oh well.
“I told him you had an emergency at the hospital,” Harper says. “So he’ll understand.”
I let out a breath. “Thanks, Harper. You’re the best.”
Her cheeks get a little pink the way they always do when I compliment her. Harper is in her early twenties, and I was so mad when Philip hired her. We had a list of nearly fifty applicants for the job, and of course, he picks theyoungest and prettiest of all of them. It was my own damn fault for letting him be in charge of it—I don’t know what I was thinking. When I saw Harper walk in with her long legs and shiny dark hair and big blue eyes, I wanted to smack him upside the head.
But for the most part, Philip has behaved himself. It could have something to do with the twenty-minute lecture I gave him on sexual harassment, although I had to dole it out in two-minute intervals between patients.
And then it turned out Harper is fabulous. I liked our old secretary, Bridget, who quit after she had a baby, but Harper is even better than she was. She’s very organized, incredibly personable, and smart as a whip. She recently graduated from college with an English degree and hasn’t quite been able to figure out what to do with it, so she and I have had some late nights at the office and at the Mexican restaurant a five-minute drive away, discussing her future over margaritas.
“Late for clinic again,Dr. Davis?”
I snap up my head, and Philip is standing in front of me, his arms folded across his chest. He’s got an amused grin plastered over his handsome features. Philip is the sort of doctor that all the female patients fall in love with. I would never have anything to do with him, except he’s one hell of a surgeon. He knew me because he was my senior resident when I was a medical student, and after I graduated, he approached me to join his solo practice. I was being courted by a large surgical practice, but Philip made me a really good offer and I liked the autonomy. So here I am.
“My last surgery ran long,” I say.
Philip clucks his tongue. “Nora, when are you going to learn to work faster like me?”
I roll my eyes. “Fast orcareless?”
He grins at me. “Say what you want, but I never keep patients waiting.” He winks at Harper. “I never keep ladies waiting either.”
I shoot Philip a look while Harper busies herself at her desk. To her credit, she has never flirted back with him. She has a serious boyfriend, and the last time we talked, she told me he was hinting at getting her a ring. So she’s very smart to stay far away from Philip.
I’ve already kept Arnold Kellogg waiting for too long, so I excuse myself and go into the examining room. Sheila, our medical assistant, has already taken Mr. Kellogg’s vital signs and she’s hanging his chart on the door when I approach the room. All the information goes in the computer, but I like to have it on paper in front of me. There’s nothing I hate more than going to see the doctor and all they do is stare at a screen while I’m talking to them.
“You’ve got your work cut out for you, Nora,” Sheila tells me. She is in her sixties with mocha skin, graying hair, and arms like tree trunks. She’s amazing—I wish I had five of her. “He’s not happy about being kept waiting.”
“Thanks, Sheila.” I grab the chart off the door and look at Kellogg’s vitals. All fine. “I’ll have to turn up the charm.”
Sheila snorts. “I know you will.”
I take a deep breath, my hand on the doorknob. I already feel the phony smile spreading across my face, but it doesn’t look phony. It looksreal. It’s the same smileAaron Nierling used to lure girls into his car. My father had a lot of charisma, and he could really turn up the charm when he wanted to. And so can I.
When I open the door, seventy-three-year-old Mr. Kellogg and his wife are sitting together in the examining room. He is frowning. Not just his face. His whole body is frowning. His sparse gray hair is frowning, his saggy gut is frowning, and his hunched shoulders are frowning. I didn’t think such a thing was possible until I saw it with my very own eyes.
“Mr. Kellogg!” I exclaim, like he’s my long-lost best friend. “You look fantastic. How are you doing?”