4. Lauren
4
LAUREN
I felt very out of place walking into the office. The other interns stared at me suspiciously for a few moments as I set up my spot at the long, narrow glass table. Their eyes bored into my soul, but I didn't let it get to me until one of them spoke up, and then I felt a little rattled.
"Uh, weren't you fired yesterday?" It was Dr. Cooper, a younger woman with dark curly hair. I was like her when I was fresh out of med school too, a lot of spunk and curiosity. It turned into the drive I had today, though years of experience had also given me an edge she didn’t have yet.
"Well, I am rehired this morning." I sat in the leather chair and rolled it closer to the table, folding open my tablet's cover to open the Notes app. After the debacle yesterday, I learned Dr. Park had, in fact, already treated the patient we had done the differential on, which was why he could be so casual with our diagnostics. I felt like an idiot when I found out, but it made sense. He was testing our thinking under pressure and I failed. My mistake.
"What'd you do? Sleep with him?" Dr. Baine, another med-school grad with something to prove, snickered as he cracked the joke, but before I could respond to him, Dr. Park walked in with his tablet in his arm.
He looked around the table and sighed. "Our young patient is recovering nicely. I want to commend Dr. Newhouse for her brilliant diagnosis." He looked right at me, but it wasn’t pride on his face. His expression was stern as he looked at me. I figured he was one of those guys who was always serious and let go of my expectation of highest praise as he continued.
"Of course, you all know now that our assessment yesterday when you all arrived was a test. You did well, but in emergency situations, you must all do better." He tore his gaze from mine and looked to the others, who seemed to hang on his every breath. He was just a human. I wasn't about to worship him like they did. But I did have a healthy respect for him now that he had given me the job back.
"Turns out the young man was picking flowers for his teacher. The recess aids didn't keep a close eye on him and he went off the playground. The diagnosis was confirmed when the teacher presented with the same symptoms after handling the flowers. They had been sprayed with an organophosphate and both were poisoned by phosidrin."
It didn’t surprise me that my diagnosis was correct or that Dr. Park had come to that conclusion before I did. I was happy the young boy would fully recover and was ready to take on our next case. I knew this job would be a lot of intense studying and a constant learning process as new diseases were discovered and new toxins presented to us on a daily basis, but it was the excitement of never having the same case twice that drove me.
"Now, Dr. Cooper, please go see to it that our nurses are administering the correct dosages of medications. Dr. Baine, please speak to the victims’ families. Make sure they understand that any clothing or physical items that either of them touched must be cleaned or destroyed to avoid this happening to them or anyone else, and call the school to make sure they keep the children inside or on the playground and away from those plants." Dr. Park raised his eyebrows and looked at the other male intern, Dr. Holt, and said, "And you go down to the emergency department and get the latest on our newest patient. I hear an elderly man is presenting with some strange symptoms."
The other interns stood and took their tablets with them as they shuffled out of the office, but I remained seated, looking up at Dr. Park. He stared at his tablet as if uninterested in the fact that I was still here, waiting to be given something to do. I cleared my throat, but he continued to ignore me. He didn't walk away, though. He just hovered over me, doing whatever it was he was doing on his tablet. For a second, I thought he was playing a game and I got frustrated.
"Uh, Dr. Park."
He looked up at me and his eyebrows peaked in the middle. "Yes, Dr. Newhouse?" The way he looked at me was different from the way he looked at the others. A knowing passed between us, but I wasn't going to say anything about it. My lips still tingled from the way he kissed me, even after a night fraught with bad dreams. Jason woke me up twice in a fit of tears.
"What should I do?" I asked, clearing my throat again. I figured I'd get the grunt work, maybe the ridiculous jobs that nurses should be doing—changing bed sheets or cleaning patients who had soiled themselves.
"Hmm," he hummed, pushing his lips out as if thinking. "How about some coffee? I like mine black, and don't get anything flavored." He turned on his heel and walked over to the end of the diagnostics office toward the thick glass door with his name on it. I almost scoffed. I felt my face contorting into a scowl and stood, thinking of telling him off.
This wasn't my job. I wasn't his secretary. He could get his own coffee. That was such a misuse of my skills and experience.
"Unless you have a problem with that order?" he said, but he didn't even turn around. His hand remained on the arced golden handle that he pulled, and the door swung open.
Seething, I pressed my fingertips onto the glass tabletop and tried to let the frustration go. He was getting back at me for snapping at him yesterday, and I deserved this. It was something I would have done as the head of the ER. Something I had done, actually. There was no point in arguing or biting back. The only way to get through this was to just go along with him until he felt I'd learned my lesson.
I locked my tablet and left it, moving out into the hallway toward the coffee station at the nurses' desk. Dr. Cooper was there too, getting herself a cup of coffee before going down to do her task in the ICU. She eyed me as I approached and smirked as I reached for a paper cup and the coffee carafe.
"He's got you getting him coffee?" She chuckled. "I guess you’re his little gopher now. He'll have you shining his shoes before the end of the day, girl." Even Dr. Cooper was smart enough to know I'd screwed up big time and this was my punishment. I scowled as I filled a cup for Dr. Park, and my colleague leaned in. "I didn't mean to be rude. Look, I'm glad you're back. You would have saved that kid's life. We all know that. Just take your lumps. Hopefully, it doesn't last too long."
The camaraderie helped a little, but it didn't take the sting of her mocking away. "Thanks," I mumbled, and then I walked off toward the diagnostics office. Dr. Park was seated at his desk thumbing through a magazine when I walked in. He looked up long enough to take the coffee and then returned to reading as I stood over him.
I wanted to point out how this internship was supposed to be teaching me things about patients and diagnostics, not how to get coffee the right temperature and flavor. But he knew that. And I knew my arguments would fall on deaf ears. I'd heard every single argument myself when I was the boss.
"What's next?" I asked, not really prepared to do these menial tasks. It was humiliating enough being called out like that yesterday. This put things over the top, but he did have some face to save. I bet he got off on the fact that he was putting me in my place too, a way to squelch the burning attraction I felt toward him, no doubt. The bigger of a dick he was to me in these base orders, the more I could peel back the blinders and see him for who he really was—my boss. Not a love interest.
"Here." Dr. Park leaned down and reached under his old oak desk. When he sat back up, there was a rag and a bottle of glass cleaner in his hand. He set it on the desk and pushed it toward me and without looking up, he said, "Wash the windows."
My throat constricted as if a python were wrapping me in a stranglehold. I almost screamed. I felt my entire body tensing, my fingers curling into fists. Tears wanted to well up in my eyes. I could feel them, but I refused them. This was absolutely ludicrous. I wasn't the housekeeping lady, or his maid, and washing windows wasn't even close to my job description. I stood there glaring at him, staring at the cleaner and rag until he looked up at me.
"Is there a problem, Dr. Newhouse?"
"I…" I started to protest, but his lower lip had a bead of coffee perched on it. His tongue shot out and drew across the chocolate-colored liquid, languidly swiping it away, and my panties may as well have melted. I was furious, but he was the boss, and that mouth was such a temptation. It just reminded me of my promise—that I'd obey every single order he gave without hesitation or resistance. "No, sir."
I picked up the rag and cleaner and walked over to the wall—the entire thing was one giant glass window. I was so angry I couldn't think. I had no words to spout off to him even if I wanted to. But as I sprayed the cleaner on and wiped it off in smooth, slow strokes, I realized I was being paid the same amount whether I was diagnosing patients or washing windows and getting coffee for the man. That thought calmed me enough to see straight again, and I began to relax.
I noticed that through his reflection in the glass I was cleaning, I could see Dr. Park watching me. The look on his face was placid for the most part, stoic, almost as if he were masking his thoughts in case I was watching him. What he couldn't mask, however, was the way his hand lay casually across his lap, his thumb rubbing up and down on whatever lay beneath it.
I felt heat rise to my cheeks and dropped the rag accidentally. I scurried to pick it up and continue cleaning so he didn’t realize I was flustered by what I saw but then had another realization that he probably watched me bend over too. Maybe he thought I did it on purpose. Maybe he was thinking about that kiss as much as I was. And maybe I would have to use the toilet soon to mop up the mess those ideas were creating in my panties.
God, what the heck was I thinking last night? The first kiss was a knee-jerk reaction to a scary situation. The second kiss was a celebration after a desperate moment, and following such a steamy connection, I lost control. Both were wrong. Both were off-limits, and both were explosive, still having rippling effects over us. That was all. Just the lingering effects of the heat of that moment that had to simmer out, which was why he was making me his gopher instead of letting me shine.
I kept repeating it to myself over and over as I washed the entire wall of windows. So why were my panties wet, then? And why did he keep staring?