3. Ashley
3
ASHLEY
I sat in the lecture hall trying to focus on what Jack was saying instead of his chiseled features, but I found myself daydreaming and unable to concentrate. His rugged jawline peppered with stubble flexed with each word, and I remembered the way it felt under my bare hand as he pressed me against the cabin wall on Dad's yacht. I couldn’t even think of him as Dr. Stewart, my boss and someone I could be learning from. All I could think of was the way he made my knees go weak.
The whispering of the other two interns didn't help, either. Jack's plan was working perfectly. They didn't know a thing about me. For all they knew, I was a late bloomer, someone who took time off between high school and college, which was the lie Jack cooked up for me to explain why a thirty-year-old was only at the intern stage of their medical education and not a full-fledged doctor in their own right. To them I was an equal, or even less than an equal. To them, I was behind the curve.
It was frustrating because the things they said were hurtful, but there was nothing I could do about it. At least, nothing I could do directly. Proving my superiority shouldn't have had to be a thing, anyway, but the niggling insecurity of being seen as less than or inferior to them ate away at my confidence.
"Guess you're never too old to start over.” Dr. Blake snickered but hid her degrading humor behind her hand, and when Jack turned to face us and continued his lecture, she coughed to cover it.
I shrank down in my seat, feeling my cheeks flush. They had no idea what was going on or why I was here, and based on how rude they were being to me, I felt like Jack was on to something. One of them was definitely behind the strange patient death that had him under the gun with a malpractice lawsuit.
He turned toward the board again to write something down with his thick black marker, and Dr. Andrews kept their dumb string of insults rolling. "Maybe she just took the scenic route and had a siesta."
Both of them chuckled this time, and instead of snapping at them—which was what I wanted to do—I chose to fight fire with fire. I cut Jack off in the middle of his lecture to ask a pointed question I knew they'd never have the answer for.
"Dr. Stewart, in cases of severe pleural adhesions from previous surgeries, would you recommend a median sternotomy or a bilateral thoracotomy to minimize complications during the procedure?" I sat a little straighter when he turned with a broad smile, a look of surprise stretching his eyebrows upward.
"Great question, Dr. Sutton." His eyes sparkled with pride and admiration. At least he saw me for who I was, but it didn't really stop the back and forth between Andrews and Blake. Jack focused back on the white board and continued the lecture by answering my question first then explaining the risks and benefits of both procedures, and for the most part, I was able to ignore the banter going on to my left.
It did little to stop my stomach from fluttering every time he looked at me, though. I remembered the panic in his tone when Dad stormed into that cabin and I had to convince him that Jack was merely being a good friend. It was a bit of a blunder on my part, not realizing how upset my father would be about me and Jack. I wrestled with that one for a while once I sobered up.
I'd been known to fall hard and fast for guys, and I'd gotten my heart broken more than once. Falling for Jack was inevitable for me, only a matter of time and interaction. I was already halfway there with the overwhelming physical attraction to him. I'd never been one of those girls who could separate the physical from the emotional, and with him it was worse. There was something about him that oozed confidence and leadership, and not just because he was my boss. It was his nature, and it was addictive.
"That's all I have for you now. Let's break for lunch, and we'll meet back here to review one of our surgeries, then go out for rounds." He capped his marker and set it on the podium in front of him, and the others got up and collected their things. I wanted to linger in hopes that we'd have a moment alone to chat, but Jack grabbed his cell phone out of his desk and darted out the door too.
I took my time gartering my things into a tidy pile and leaving them on the desk in front of me. When I left the lecture hall, I flicked the lights off and headed up the hallway toward the cafeteria. Being back in Boston felt a lot more like home than I'd first thought. I grew up in these hallways after school as a latch-key kid. I'd stop here to see Dad before heading home to do my homework and await dinner. As I got older, I was responsible for making dinner. And then one day, I was off to college and life changed dramatically.
Not much had changed in the hospital, either. Sure, the walls were different colors, new carpeting in the hallways, but a lot of the nurses who'd watched me grow up were still here, nearing retirement like Dad. He no longer practiced, but he promised to stop by in the afternoons to "pester me" the way I used to "pester him". When he told me, I laughed, but I knew he'd do it. When Mom died, the two of us were like peas in a pod because we were all each other had.
In line at the cafeteria, I studied the menu hung over the line. Even the menu was pretty much the same. They'd added a few new things, removed a few, but the staples of meatloaf and chicken soup were there, alongside fresh fruits, salads, and various wraps. It was my first day, but I could already tell I'd be going out for lunch or packing more regularly.
I was lost in thought trying to decide between the pot roast or a fresh salad when I heard a voice. "Ashley?" The voice was so familiar, it made a zing of dread shoot down my back and goosebumps rose on my arms. My stomach tied in knots as I turned to look him in the eye and felt my heart drop to my feet.
"Sam,” I muttered, and my tongue clung to the roof of my mouth. Sam Gooding, ex-fiancé, breaker of hearts, destroyer of hope… He left me standing in the bridal suite the day of our wedding with my hair all done up and my makeup running down my cheeks. We'd spoken only once since then, long enough for me to unleash every ounce of pain I had on him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, and he smiled at me, that devilishly handsome and almost irresistible smile he had. "Do you work here now?"
Sam wasn't just the person who broke my heart. He was the one who made me mistrust true love. And he was the only person who could blow up Jack's plan of me buddying up to the interns to find out who was screwing with his career. If one of them found out what I was really doing here, they'd blow the whistle and I'd probably get moved away from Jack or fired for lying.
"Yes… I, uh… I work here." I fidgeted with the buttons on my lab coat and watched Sam glance at my hand. He couldn't seriously be checking my hand for a ring, could he? He left me high and dry. He had no interest in me then, and there was no way I was ever going back to that.
"Amazing coincidence. I'm a fellow under Dr. Chambers… Pediatric oncology." He batted his eyelashes. "Looks like we'll have the same lunch. Want to sit together?" His flirting nauseated me, and I looked away to see Jack a few spots behind Sam in line, which was moving slowly.
"I can't… I'm, uh…” The words caught in my throat. If he knew I was single, he'd never stop putting pressure on me. It was the way he was. If he set his eyes on something, he pressed until he got it. Like that stint in New Guinea on the medical ship he just had to take part in even though it delayed his licensing by two years and ended our relationship.
"Come on, Ash. For old times' sake. Sit with me." He winked, and if I hadn't been devastated by the way things ended, I may have taken him up on it.
I turned and walked a few steps forward in line, trying to ignore him. I had no good professional reason not to eat with him, but I knew if I did, I'd only have to fight back emotions I wished I never had to feel again. I didn't want to cry or hurt or remember that he and I were supposed to have a happily ever after, because I didn’t want to remember him at all.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I can't."
"Are you seeing someone, then?" he asked, and I took another step forward as the line began to move.
I glanced over my shoulder when I heard a phone ring and saw the man directly behind Sam walk out of line. That left only one person between Sam and Jack, who was smiling at me. Or maybe he was just smiling, but he was looking at me and it made my heart flutter again.
"Yeah, I'm married," I told him, maybe with a little spite in my tone. He lost his chance with me, and while it was probably petty or immature of me to lie to him, I found it satisfying to twist that knife a little. He deserved it.
"Wow… but no ring?" Sam's question made my blood run cold.
I was stupid, but I wasn't going to let him catch me in the lie. My brain scrambled to think of something, and the only thing I could come up with was, "I'm a surgeon, Sam. I can't wear rings when I do surgery, so I leave them at home."
We went through the line, ordering and paying for our food, and he seemed appeased until we got to the condiment station where I picked up salt and pepper packets for my roast and he started in again.
"Who is he? What does he do?" Sam was jealous? That humored me. Or maybe he didn't believe me. I ignored him and reached for the silverware on the little cart just past the cash register, and Sam hovered. "I get it, Ash. I hurt you, but you don't have to lie to me to make me go away. You can just tell me and I’ll leave you alone."
That wasn't the truth at all and both of us knew it. He would hound me for weeks and I'd feel like I was being stalked. As it was, he'd do it anyway. Serendipity had ordained for us to be thrust back into each other's lives, and there was no way out.
"Sam, please.” I nudged past him and grabbed a napkin, my tray balanced on my left hand, and Sam scowled.
"I don't believe you. I know when you're lying." Sam stood in my way, and I heard silverware jostling behind me.
"I'm not lying." I turned to go the opposite way and saw Jack getting his spoon for the chicken soup on his tray and instantly knew if I didn’t put out this fire with Sam, I'd be chased around for weeks or months. He'd figure out I wasn't here for a real job and he'd blow everything up. "I'm married to Jack," I blurted out, and Jack's eyebrows rose and he looked up at me. My back was to Sam, so I mouthed, "Please.”
Without missing a beat, Jack smiled, and I reached for his hand as if it were the most comfortable thing in the world. I didn't care if there were hospital administrators around or the other interns. I just wanted Sam to go away so my heart could rest.
"This guy bothering you, Ash?" Jack was my savior, my knight in a white lab coat come to rescue me from the clutches of heartbreak.
"I was just telling Sam, my ex-boyfriend , that I am married to you, sweetheart." Turning around carefully so I didn't tip my tray, I gave Sam a pointed look and noticed the frustration in his eyes.
"Sorry, Dr. Stewart. I didn't realize.” Sam nodded and backed away, taking his tray with him. That was settled. And hopefully, he'd leave me alone from now on. But the ominous shadow of Jack Stewart hovering over me was another story.
The second Sam was out of earshot, Jack hissed, “What the heck was that?” His hand left mine and there were a solid two feet of space between us. He didn’t seem angry, more like shocked, and all I could do was shrug.
“Look, you owe me,” I blurted out, then I bolted. What else could I do? I just told my ex that I was married to my boss. This wasn’t going to end well.