Page 21 of Hearts on the Table
We weren’t the only ones agitated. Groans sounded at Caplan’s announcement that there were “Just a few more things before we close out.”
Almost all of us—nearly thirty attending cardiac surgeons at Cedar—squeezed into the space. I didn’t have any issues with conference room C, aside from the shrieking chairs. Like the rest of the hospital, it was clean and modern: Gray and white striped carpet, whiteboards on the walls. Big projector screen that lowered with a press of a button. The room itself was fine.
It was the quarterly department meetings, held in conference room fucking C, that made me want to grab a lighter. The agendas usually consisted of arduous hashing and rehashing of new quality standards initiatives, HR programs, and patient outcomes metrics. Caplan claimed they were an integral component of our surgical team morale. Everyone else thought they were fucking boring.
“If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to go crazy. You going to the thing tonight?” Cooper whispered.
I nodded, keeping my eyes on Caplan, as if the force of my attention could hurry things along.
“Alright, seriously, give me five more minutes, people. We’ll be sipping watered down drinks in no time.”
The Eastern chapter of the Regional Cardiologists Association had commandeered a hotel ballroom a few miles away to kick off their annual conference. Most of us had the night off since Cedar wanted a good showing when one of the biggest trade associations came through our hometown. Especially when our favorite fellow’s mother was the keynote speaker.
That was possibly another reason I was itching to get the hell out of this room. Lainey and I had gone our separate ways after our coffee…date?No,not date. Meeting?
Whatever it was, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And since I specifically avoided consulting Lainey’s on-call rotation when I made my schedule every month, we’d been like ships in the night all week. I’d had rounds with her once, yesterday, before she’d rushed off to surgery. I was stuck waiting for tonight, when I knew for a fact we’d be in the same room.
Pathetic. Maybe that was pissing me off, too. I didn’t know what the hell was going on with us. Not that there was even an “us.” We couldn’t date. And Lainey didn’t date people from work, anyway. She’d told Jones many times, and I wouldn’t push that boundary. I respected her too much for that. I kept coming back to…friends. Friendly colleagues. So, we’d keep working together. And maybe grab coffee after a workout every once in a while. And that would be great. Better than what we’d had before, which was a politely cordial working relationship.
Great.
“We’re sad to say goodbye to Dr. Randall, whose last day was Tuesday. We wish him the best.”
The room stirred, this time in interest instead of irritation. Cooper leaned over to me. “You know about Randall?”
I shook my head. I’d known he was a key player in that love triangle with the two anesthesiologists, but I hadn’t known about his departure. Surely there was a connection there.
“With that in mind, we’re opening up a new attending spot as soon as possible to replace him. We’ll be hiring three new permanent roles. Thankfully, the timing coincides with the graduation of our current class of fellows. Let us know your recommendations there. If we can keep the good ones in-house, we’ll do what we can to make it happen.”
“Can we just put Carmichael’s name in three times?” Everyone chuckled at the suggestion from the front of the room.
“Carmichael’s a given. Shoot me an email if you know anyone else looking for a job. Speaking of personnel changes, HR has been working with the board to enact a new policy on interpersonal relationships. There’s some new paperwork involved to disclose any romantic relationships with a colleague. I know, I know”—Caplan held his hands out, trying to placate a few grumbles around the room—“it’s just a few forms to limit liability for the hospital.”
“What constitutes a romantic relationship?” someone piped up. The director shuffled a few papers and read from one of them. “Any reciprocated romantic interest or relationship must be disclosed to HR. Following submission and processing of documentation, the department will take action to maintain the professional working environment which we pride ourselves on.”
“So, if we start something up, we won’t work with that person anymore?” Cooper asked. Caplan nodded.
“That’s the plan. Separation of church and state and all that. I think we all agree that a lovers’ spat is the last thing we need causing tension in the OR. The board is breathing down our necks too much as it is. Go to HR if you get the hots for anyone and we’ll take it from there.” He clapped, dismissing us. “Not too painful today, I hope. Go have some appetizers. Make us look good. Gold star to anyone who can get Dr. Carmichael to write a check to the department.”
Chuckles and chatter followed me into the hall as we all booked it to the physician’s lounge. I’d stuffed a tux in my locker and was considering whether to change here or at the hotel when Cooper loped up next to me.
“Well, there goes my plans with Carmichael.”
“Hmm?” His comment came at me with no context. I rifled through my bag to find a pair of nicer socks.
“The new HR bullshit. I was planning on asking her out when she finished her fellowship. Guess that’s out. She’s too valuable in the OR.”
I froze, fingers clenching the black cotton. “You and Carmichael?”Shit. They were a dynamic fucking duo around here—everyone knew Cooper and Carmichael and the mind-blowing procedures they took on.
Obviously, I’d considered before that I probably wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Lainey. It had even crossed my mind that there may be something more happening between her and Cooper, but I’d told myself again and again I was being paranoid. I’d gotten the feeling that their relationship thrived more on professional compatibility than any romantic sparks. Maybe not.
“Haven’t we all thought about it? She’s gorgeous. Talented.” He shrugged, unaware that he was causing me serious palpitations. I convinced my body to move again, pulling thegarment bag from my locker. “But she knows me too well. I practically can’t operate without her.”
He grabbed his own garment bag, humming in consideration. “Maybe it’d be worth it, though. She’s one of a kind, you know?”
“Yeah.” I knew.
Cooper strolled away. I sighed. The rush of air leaving my lungs felt good, so I sucked in a breath and sighed again. So Cooper had a thing for Lainey. Apparently, we all did. I headed to the bathroom to change, trying to find equilibrium after that mindfuck of a conversation. I wasn’t the only one waiting in the wings to make a move after Lainey finished up her fellowship. It made me feel like we were all vultures circling around her.
