Page 60 of Hearts on the Table
“I told you I tried to change their decision.”
It was so very Sam to go to bat for a co-worker and not say anything about it. “Telling me you tried isn’t the same as telling me you freaked out on the board.”
“I didn’t freak out.”
“Blew a gasket sounds like freaking out. How would you describe it?”
He shut his laptop before raising his eyebrow at me. He knew I was fishing. “I may have gotten frustrated.”
“Did you yell?”
“No,” he answered quickly. Too quickly. We eyed each other.
“Just what, exactly, does it look like when you get heated, Doctor Reese?”
“Maybe you come to my place after our surgery Friday and you can find out.”
“Well, this looks cozy.” Sam and I sprang apart when Jones dropped his lunch across the table. “Nothing like procedure planning on your lunch break.”
“Right.” Sam swept his computer up. “Carmichael, thanks for checking the schedule with me.”
“Anytime.” While I watched him walk out of the lounge, I counted to ten in my head. Stupid Jones. Now I’d never know what Sam was like when he got all fired up. At least, not until Friday. My heart fluttered.
“You two have been going hard on that ablation. Must suck to spend so much time with him. Talking to him is like pulling teeth.”
“He’s a great surgeon,” I snapped.
“Whoa, damn, calm down. I’m just saying, it’s like talking to a brick wall.” I wanted to smack Jones’s cocky smile. “You want some real stimulating conversation, you know where to find me.”
“I don’t date people from work,” I reminded him for the hundredth time. Except for Saturday. I might be dating someone from work on Saturday. And…maybe Friday night, too.
Chapter 22
Lainey
An atrial fibrillation ablation was the kind of thing that made even me, an almost fully-trained heart surgeon, go“Whoa, what?”
A catheter fed through an artery, a few electrical pulses and presto chango, we blocked abnormal signals to restore standard rhythm to the heart. Scientific wizardry. On top of all that, Reese was going to use the same catheter to repair a problem with the patient’s mitral valve, which wasn’t closing properly.
A delicate procedure, and a long one. But it flew.
After years of medical school, residency, and fellowship training, the OR was practically my second home. I was more comfortable here than in my apartment. But days like today, cases like this—teamslike this—still gave me goosebumps. It was an honor to be here, and an absolute privilege.
Seven hours after entering the OR, I’d officially witnessed my first in-person ablation, and Sam had allowed me to personally implant the MitraClip to close the patient’s malfunctioning valve. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as I scrubbed out next to Dr. West, the electrophysiologist who had come from Loyola to assist. Sam’s surgery playlist still trickled through the speakers in the OR,“Come and Get Your Love”making its way into the scrub room.
“Great work today!” I called to two nurses wheeling a heart monitor out of the OR.
“You nailed it, Carmichael.” Mary, one of the nurses, stopped to chat while I dried my hands. Dr. West shuffled by, humming along.
“It was flawless,” I agreed, swaying my shoulders back and forth to the music. We’d been like a well-oiled machine. It was a kind of surgery magic that didn’t happen very often. But when it did…I added a little hip wiggle and a few shuffles when the nurses joined, moving to the beat. Mary burst out laughing at something behind me.
My smile grew when I spotted Sam behind me, matching my shoulder sways move-for-move.
Our eyes met, and a different sort of magic swelled. My heart squeezed and my stomach felt weightless, like I was on a roller coaster. I grinned when he made his way closer, leaning back and forth with me to the music.
I wasn’t sure if my face gave it away, or if he was just watching methat closely, but when I double-timed my shimmies to switch direction, he mirrored my every move on the beat. My laughter blended in with the nurses as they hooted and clapped, joining us in our impromptu dance party. Mary cackled when Sam did some sort of fancy footwork, reaching out to twirl me under his arm.
It felt like some sort of bizarre dream. My feet were killing me and I was exhausted, but the high of the successful surgery, performed side-by-side with this incredible man, was too much to ignore. Sam dropped my hand, dipping Mary when she shimmied past.
