Page 74 of The Devil You Know
George looks me up and down. Finally, he sighs. “Fine. But just this one time.”
Does he think that I’m going to make it a habit of carrying around a gigantic plant? Christ, I sure hope not.
The elevator seems to be traveling painfully slowly. I’m trying to keep the plant from slipping out of my fingers, debating if I should just put it on the ground for the duration. That’s when the elevator doors open and Dr. Ryan Reilly strides in wearing scrubs and a jacket. I’m not entirely sure he sees me though, since my face is concealed by leaves and branches.
“Hey, George!” Ryan says.
To my utter shock, a huge smile breaks out on George’s face for the first time in the entire year I’ve known him. Ryan holds out his hand and George gives him an enthusiastic high five. What. The. Hell?
“Did you catch the Knicks game last night?” Ryan asks him.
“You know I did!” George says. “Man, that game was too close for comfort.”
“You kidding me? I knew the Knicks had it all along.”
They chat about the Knicks game for another minute while I stand quietly, hoping Ryan doesn’t notice me. Except at one point, he glances over in my direction and winks. A month ago, that wink might have donesomething for me—but right now, all I can think about is how I’m going to get this stupid plant home.
“So what’s with the man-eating plant?” Ryan asks me as he gives George a parting fist bump and we exit the elevator in the lobby.
I shift my grip on GinormoPlant for the hundredth time. “A patient gave it to me.”
He rolls his eyes. “Give me that.”
I don’t protest when he takes the plant out of my hands. “I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“What is your cut-off percentage of stenosis to do a carotid endarterectomy?”
He looks at me thoughtfully. “Is your patient symptomatic?”
“He had a brief episode of monocular blindness.”
“And how stenotic is he?”
“Don’t know yet.” I shrug. “I just ordered the carotid ultrasound.”
He shakes his head at me. “You’re asking me for a consult and you didn’t even get the ultrasound yet? For shame, Jane. Call me when you actually get the study done. You don’t even know what you’re dealing with.”
“Say he’s at seventy-five percent,” I say.
“Seventy-five percent?” He nods. “Yeah, I’d do it. If he was otherwise a good candidate.”
The last thing I want is to push Mr. Katz into a surgery. But at the same time,amaurosis fugaxis a great indication for a carotid endarterectomy. Ryan knows it too—I’m sure he’ll do the surgery if the ultrasound shows what I think it will.
He hands me back the plant when we get to my car. He smirks at the way I struggle to get a grip on it. “Good luck with that,” he says.
I stick out my tongue at him, then feel embarrassed at having done something so childish. Leah must be rubbing off on me. Or else Ryan just brings out that side in me.
“So things are better with Pip, huh?” he says.
“Ben,” I murmur. “And… yes.”
“Okay.” He nods. “If he’s a jerk to you, let me know and I’ll go beat him up or something.”
I snort, imagining Ben and Ryan in a fight. They’re about the same size, but judging by Ryan’s biceps and the fact that my husband hasn’t been to a gym since before Leah was born, I think he might destroy Ben. Now, at least. In a year, that might not be the case.
“See you later, Jane,” Ryan says. “Be good.”
