Chapter 18
Surprise! You work here
Scarlett
I wake up disoriented, in a place I don’t recognize. Off-white walls, off-white furniture and bedsheets. The room reminds me of a hotel room. Small desk. Notepad. Pen. Lamp. A door leading into the bathroom.
Endo might’ve traded me for a nice handgun. Or a bag of potatoes, for all he cares. My imagination runs wild, but stranger things have happened since Hurricane Endo barged into my life.
For example, I performed surgery and removed a bullet lodged near a major blood vessel. The entire time I dug through the patient’s flesh, I prayed I wouldn’t kill him. If it weren’t for the nurse wiping my face every few minutes, sweat would’ve been dripping from my forehead.
When I said I am not a surgeon, I meant it. If it weren’t for the surgeon guiding me through the procedure, I might’ve lost my nerve.
Trauma work is not for me, and yet that’s all I seem to have been doing since I met Endo.
Maybe he’s confused and thinks I missed my calling.
I did not. Family medicine, particularly infectious diseases, is my thing.
I’d rather treat an outbreak of Ebola than remove bullets from people.
In addition, Marquis is an O-negative blood type, because of course he is, which means he’s a universal donor, not a universal recipient.
This makes his blood type more difficult to come by.
During surgery, we had a single bag. I prayed for it to be enough.
All doctors aren’t made equal. Oh no. Different people work better under different conditions, and pressure doesn’t always bring out the best in everyone.
Sometimes it folds them. An ophthalmologist rarely works in the same environment as a trauma ER doctor.
But Endo doesn’t seem to care about that.
He said operate, and we all said, yes, sir.
I use the bathroom and find new toiletries, along with a toothbrush that looks suspiciously like the toothbrush Endo’s housekeeper gave me when I told her I needed one back in the Keep. I refresh myself and walk back into the room.
Under a vase holding a single pink tulip, I spot a note. The masculine handwriting with aggressive strokes can only have been written by Endo.
Scar,
The note starts, and I shake my head because only my family calls me that.
Check on Marquis when you wake up. Your staff arrives at seven. The clinic opens at nine, and I know you’ll be up by then. Dec will pick you up for lunch at noon.
Endo
I read the note twice. It’s eight in the morning, so I have an hour to check on Marquis before the clinic opens. The staff arrived, no doubt with many questions. Actually, no. I doubt they’ll ask questions since I’m pretty sure they’ll recognize Marquis as Endo’s man.
Not sure why Dec will pick me up at noon when I should be picked up now so I can return to the Keep. Does Endo want me to return to this room? I’m confused, but one thing at a time. Check on my patient first.
A pretty beige dress hangs from a hook on the room door. It’s not mine, but the white lab coat behind it definitely is. I can tell it’s meant for me because someone (Endo, likely) wrote Dr. Pembroke on the pocket. With a black permanent marker.
I wear the dress (in my size) and the lab coat, and head downstairs. The staff swept and cleaned Marquis’s room, removing all surgical equipment. It looks like a recovery room now, a.k.a. a room where nothing happened last night.
I check the chart for the vitals and the IV. I’m happy to see that his face has regained some color already.
As I turn to leave, a woman in blue scrubs with a stethoscope around her neck walks in.
“Good morning,” she greets with a gentle smile.
She’s in her late thirties with a patch of purple hair at the front of her otherwise dark brown hair. Her eyes are brown, her nose long and slightly curved down.
“You must be our new doctor. Dr. Pembroke was it?” She offers me an elbow instead of a hand to shake, since she’s washing her hands.
I bump it with my elbow. “I’m Scarlett Pembroke. A doctor, yes.”
“Brenda Donney. I’m one of the nurses. My sister Emily is a nurse here too. Riordan is in the front. We call him Rie like the bread with an i.”
She slips on plastic gloves and goes to arrange Marquis’s IV fluids. “We’re so glad you were able to come in earlier than next week. I hear Marquis had a terrible backache. He’s much loved in the town.”
Ah, we’re going with a backache. I wondered how this would be explained. I shouldn’t have. Endo’s townsfolk have it all worked out.
Brenda continues. “The clinic wasn’t supposed to reopen for another week, but Declan called us in this morning.
Said the new doc is in town a week earlier than planned.
He said you’re eager to get started. As are we.
” She arranges Marquis’s already tidy blanket.
“We haven’t worked for months, so we didn’t need to be told twice.
I’ve got a little girl who needs to eat, so I took her to Karen and came in as early as I could.
” She tosses her gloves in the bin. “Josy, my girl, loves Karen’s more than our house because Karen is deaf and Josy can watch TV loud as fuck.
” Brenda pinches her lips. “There I go, cursin’. Are you strict with cursing?”
“Um…”
“I hope not. The last doc we got really didn’t like my sailor mouth.”
Is she talking about the undercover cop Mary mentioned? I can’t ask or tell. “Maybe he didn’t mean to work here.”
She gives me a confused look. “He applied for the job.”
“If he doesn’t like sailor mouth, he should’ve picked a town that isn’t close to the harbor, where he’s less likely to work with the descendants of sailors.”
She looks me up and down. “Who told you I’m not a sailor myself?”
“Are you?”
“No.” Brenda smiles. “Just teasing you. Welcome to Couldermouth.”
Obviously, this woman thinks I’m going to work at the clinic. She’s mistaken me for another doctor. Declan jumped the gun when he volunteered me to oversee Marquis’s recovery, or else there is a gross misunderstanding.
Brenda enters a room with a different patient, and I head out. A tall, blond man with beautiful blue eyes intercepts me. He holds out a cup of coffee with cream. I take it and taste. Sweet.
“Good morning,” he says. “I’m Rie, like the bread but spelled with an i. I man the desk and keep the bitches in line.” He bites his lips. “How do you feel about cursing?”
“I feel good when I do it,” I say.
Rie laughs. He seems friendly, like Brenda, but neither of them assisted me last night. I would have remembered his striking blue eyes.
“Do you have a phone I could use?” I ask as innocently as possible. This is a test. If they’re Endo’s people, they won’t let me near the phone. They’ll have orders from him, they’ll know who I am, and they’ll have been told that I’m to be kept away from communication devices.
Rie steps aside. “On my desk.”
Since his desk is out front, I go there and emerge into a waiting room full of patients.
Silence falls. Hopeful faces stare up at me.
I count at least twenty people inside. Three families, the rest couples, and some singles.
More people are smoking and drinking coffee outside.
It’s clear as day that someone (we all know who) broadcast the reopening of the clinic.
The nurse said they’d been expecting me, so I assume they’ve been expecting a physician who is not me.
Now they believe she’s arrived a week earlier because she’s eager to work.
Does this mean another doctor will arrive for her post next week, at which point I’ll be released from duty?
Or is the story made-up? Regardless, patients need to be seen.
I imagine some have waited months for the reopening instead of going into town.
Some of these people might not even have the means to leave the small town.
These are rural communities. Fishermen, farmers, and mine workers who are providing for their families. I don’t have a duty to anyone, but my humanity has not left me. And it damn well never will.
“Good morning, everyone.” I manage a soft smile.
It’s not these people’s fault they’re living in a town run by a manipulative psycho.
“I’ll just be a minute.” I pick up the office phone, which wasn’t on the desk when I walked in last night, and poise my finger to dial, but stop because I don’t know Endo’s phone number.
“I need Endo’s number,” I say.
“Endo’s?” Rie repeats, sounding surprised.
The silence in the office is deafening. I feel like I named the bogeyman. “Do you happen to have his number?” I look around. “Anyone have Endo Macarley’s number?”
Rie tilts his head. “Everyone has his number. On speed dial. The only people who don’t have it are those who aren’t supposed to have it.”
Ah. The outsiders. The strangers.
The phone rings, and both Rie and I jump away from it.
When it rings again, I look at him. “Aren’t you going to pick it up?”
“You pick it up.”
“Why me?”
Riiiing. They’re using one of those old ground lines with an even older, scratched, matte cream-colored phone, and I bet it’s because these phones can’t be tapped by new equipment. I’m not a criminal expert, so I have no idea, but my guess is as good as any.
“Dad, can I answer?” a boy asks from the waiting room.
Fine. I grip the receiver and bring it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Good morning, luv,” Endo’s smooth, flirty voice drifts over the line.
I turn from the onlookers, cover the mouthpiece, and whisper-hiss, “I’m going to murder you.”
A pause, then, “Tonight?”
See? Psycho. “I’m not telling you when.”
“Even better. Butter knife?”
“Steak knife.”
“Ah, fuck, baby.” His voice grows husky and deep. “You already know where the kitchen is, so you can get your weapon tonight. On the counter, you’ll find a hand-drawn map of the east wing of the house with directions to my bedroom. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
Briefly, an image of Endo sleeping in a large bed covered with an obsidian silk goose-down comforter makes my core warm up.
I sip the coffee and lean against the desk, trying to remember why I called him.
This man took over the conversation so easily, and now I don’t even know what I wanted from him.
“Scar?”
“Just a minute.” Jesus. Wha… Oh yes. I want to tell him I won’t be forced to work for him while I’m his prisoner.
That is not why I went to med school. But I turn around and see the faces of the people in the office who are expecting to be seen by someone, anyone who can treat their illnesses.
And my protest dies like it never existed.
I’m no dummy, though. I want something in return.
“This is a big ask.”
“I know.”
“You put me on the spot because you knew I couldn’t walk away.”
“Yes.”
“You’re taking advantage of me.”
“In all the ways I can. Absolutely.”
“I hate you.”
“I know. Anything new you called about?”
“I’ll do it for the week while you’re waiting for your new hire.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not doing it for you.” I ignore his chuckle. “I want my phone back.”
“Deal.”
I push away from the desk. “Deal?”
“That’s what I said.” He groans, and it’s a very sexy sound that I’d rather he didn’t make.
“What are you doing?”
“Stretching,” he says. “Been a long night. I slept in.” A pause. “Missed you at the house, luv.”
“Oh, shut up, Macarley.”
Rie’s eyes widen, and he looks pale and sickly.
Endo laughs. I wish he’d stop making those sexy, masculine noises this morning. What is wrong with him? And why is he flirting with me? He shouldn’t be. He should be mean. He is mean, my brain supplies.
“Are we still on for lunch?” he asks.
My turn to groan. “Only if you’re buying and bringing me my phone.”
“It’s a date.”
“It’s not. Bye.” I slam down the receiver.
Rie gapes.
I straighten my coat. “Give me fifteen minutes, then start calling in the patients. I’ll follow your usual routine, and we’ll wing it today. If I see anything I can improve, I’ll tell you tomorrow. What time do you all take lunch?”
“At noon.”
“I’ll work through lunch today and see as many patients as I can before we close at two. Will that work?”
Rie nods and follows me to the back. I need to freshen up again and finish my coffee. I move toward the room I woke up in, and he follows me.
“Dr. Pen, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Of course.”
“Was that Endo Macarley on the phone with you?”
“Yes, yes, it was.”
Rie seems uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other. “I hate, absolutely hate to have to be the one to tell you this, but Endo Macarley is not the kind of man who will put up with being spoken to that way.”
“Pft.” I swat my hand through the air. “He’ll live.”
“Yes, but will you?”
I think about that for a moment. “Good point.”