Page 17 of Rescuing Dr. Marian
I glanced at Marcy, expecting a chuckle or eyeball, but all I saw was the ivory skin of her cheeks turn dark with a blush as she stared at the guy. I took another look at the new hire and back to Marcy, raising an eyebrow.
“Nah, man,” the guy said. “I’m just waiting for Kendra to get back from the ladies room. I’m shadowing her today.”
I nodded and turned back to Marcy before lowering my voice. “Do we like him, likelikehim, like him?” I teased.
She swatted at my arm. “You wouldn’t understand. But that man is entirely beddable. Like, fifteen on a scale of one to Pedro Pascal beddable.”
After a moment of trying to act cool, I glanced again. Yes, he was objectively attractive. But bed him? Meh. But then again, I wasn’t into g…
Jesus.
I was, though. I was clearly into guys. Somehow, I’d made it thirty-two fucking years without knowing it, but for the past five months, I’d been pretty much only into guys.
Well,guy, singular.
I closed my eyes and tried to picture it with the new guy. Hot nurse holding the back of my head. Kissing me. Pressing me tightly against him with those biceps. Everything in me rejected the idea, not because he was a guy but because he wasn’tmyguy.
My eyes flew open as I shook my head. Not my guy, of course. I didn’t have a guy. Butaguy. A specific?—
“Your sister’s trying to get a hold of you,” Marcy said, interrupting my strange, bi-sexual confusion. “Said to give her a call on your next break.”
I faked a smile. “Did you tell her only lightweights need breaks?”
She grinned. “No, I told her I’d never heard that word before and wasn’t sure what it meant.”
I pulled out my phone and looked at my texts instead of asking Marcy which sister. Chances were, it wasn’t actually one of my sisters but my cousin Ella, who’d somehow convinced half my family to use her as their intermediary when they were worried about me.
Ella
Guess what? Trace has a job for you at SERA for the summer session!
And before you shake your head or roll your eyes, I also have inside info on a soon-to-be open position in the ER at Stanford. Call me.
I stared at the messages, my heart doing something complicated in my chest. SERA—Slingshot Emergency Rescue Academy in Legacy, Montana. Even if my family hadn’t helped fund its establishment, and the owner, Trace Bishop, wasn’t a close family friend, I would’ve heard about it. Everyone in wilderness medicine knew SERA. It was the kind of place I’d dreamed about during residency, back when I’d thought Imight specialize in emergency medicine with a focus on wilderness and disaster response.
Before Kari had suggested anesthesiology would be more stable.
Before I’d convinced myself that stability was what I wanted.
Before Hawaii had reminded me maybe I had no idea what I actually wanted anymore.
Before I could click to call Ella back, Marcy’s voice rang out again. “We’ve got a triple incoming—MVC on the BQE. Two pediatric, one ejected, one unconscious at the scene. ETA seven minutes!”
Six more hours passed in a blur of blood, adrenaline, and the controlled chaos that defined emergency medicine. By the time my shift ended, I was running on fumes and coffee, my hands shaking slightly from exhaustion and caffeine overload.
I finally managed to call Ella back when I began my walk home, dodging through pedestrian traffic as the summer heat brought out every smell in the city.
“Jesus, finally,” she said by way of greeting. “I was starting to think you’d disappeared.”
“Tell me about the SERA job,” I said, cutting straight to the point.
“Trace needs a medical director for the summer session. It’s eight weeks long, starts in a week?—”
“A week?” I nearly knocked into a woman as I stopped abruptly.
“Yup. It’s a last-minute opening since the previous guy left unexpectedly. Kismet, right?”
The word brought back memories, and I shook my head slowly, though she couldn’t see me. “Ella, that’s impossible. I can’t just?—”
