Page 4 of Paging Dr. Hart
Tiffany: The awful one.
Melanie: No way! Awkward.
Tiffany: Tell me about it.
Melanie: Good luck with that. I’ll be right over.
Tiffany: Thanks.
Amy, the lead tech, is waiting anxiously, but before she can say a word I sail past, calling out, “Dr. Love will do biopsies this morning. Washburn reassigned me.” Without waiting for her response, I duck into the supply closet and lock the door behind me. For some inexplicable reason, they always stock the small scrubs on the top shelf. I rise onto my toes and reach for a light blue set. Once I have them, I change quickly.
Melanie’s already in the ultrasound room talking to a patient when I come back out. When she sees me looking through the window, she pokes her head out the door.
“Have fun with the hottie,” she says, grinning.
I huff. “I didn’t notice if he was good-looking or not.”
“Sure, you didn’t.” Melanie sends me a saucy wink before slamming the door shut behind her. Even through the closed door, I can hear her laughter.
3
Back in my office, I find the stranger sitting in my chair with his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. A ball of rubber bands, wound tightly together, usually sits on my desk. He’s found it and is deftly throwing it into the air, where it rises slowly and then plummets back down, landing in his outstretched hand. He repeats the motion, over and over.
Distracted by the ball, he doesn’t see me in the doorway. I take advantage and look him over. Brown hair with a slight wave. A tiny scar in his left eyebrow, a thin line where the hair doesn’t grow. Faint stubble covers his cheeks, leading down to a cleft chin.
Life’s unfair. He reallyisgood-looking, in a boyishly handsome way.
I clear my throat as I walk into the room, causing him to straighten.
“You changed your clothing.” He gives me a brief glance up and down.
“Yes, well, my shirt’s soaked.” I send him a pointed look full of blame. “So I put on scrubs.”
“Sorry about that.” His words tumble out. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Also, about your lecture, I—”
Raising my hand, I cut him off. “You know what? Just…forget about it.” I sigh, remembering the dumpster fire of my lecture and that disturbing text message. “It’s been a stressful day, that’s all. In case you haven’t noticed.”
His shoulders drop, relieved. “I did notice. I also noticed that you swear like a sailor.” A laugh rushes out of him, low and husky.
I blush and hate myself for it. “I didn’t catch your name.”
Seeming to recall his manners, the man stands, sending the office chair lazily spinning. He reaches out a large hand. “Ethan Clark. I’m applying for the radiology residency position that just opened up.”
His handshake is like his smile, warm and confident. I pull my hand away quickly.
“Tiffany Hart. I’m a third-year resident.” I feel silly about introducing myself. He saw my lecture. He knows who I am.
Ethan doesn’t bat an eyelash, just says a smooth, “Nice to meet you.” He flashes a brilliant smile, so handsome I almost forget to be mad at him.
Almost.
“Well.…” I’m suddenly awkward, not sure what to do with this beast of a man in my small office. Ethan fills up the room, forcing me back against the door and making me tilt my head to meet his gaze. He’s tall, well over six feet. It’s all a bit overwhelming. I feel a need to remind him that this ismyoffice. I’m the boss here.
“Why don’t you sit, and I can start the interview?” I deliberately point to the smaller chair in the corner of the room. Ethan moves the chair closer and takes a seat. I almost feel guilty about how comically oversized he looks with his knees bunched up, like an adult sitting in a kindergarten classroom. I go to my chair, still warm from his lingering body heat.
“What do you like about radiology?” I begin.
“I like the challenge of it. How the images are like a mystery. All the clues are there. It’s up to us to put them together so we can make a diagnosis. I like how fast-paced it is. You can help so many people in a single day. More than in a specialty like internal medicine.” Again, that dazzling smile. I think he does it on purpose, knowing how disarming it is. Those white teeth would blind most women, but not me. I became immune to beautiful boys long ago.
