Chapter Two
Playing doctor with him has become my greatest fantasy. -Lyla
Lyla
I sigh as the line in front of me barely moves. Glancing down at my watch, I realize that I only have ten minutes to get coffee for Asher and I. I need to get my booty upstairs before Nurse Ratched displays her pitched up constipated You are so in trouble look. That look is only slightly scarier than the normal why must I suffer idiots glare that she usually wears. And no, her name isn’t really Nurse Ratched, but it may as well be. Nurse Vicky is the wicked witch of the west, at least in my world.
The line shuffles forward again and I glance around the guy in front of me. Two more people to go. My shoulders slump. Shit, can’t I just catch a break?
I’m three minutes late by the time I get upstairs to the General Surgery Unit. I skid to a halt in front of the nurse’s station, breathing hard. My race down the hallway from the elevator seemed like a marathon. I shake my head. I really, really need to work out. I look down at my curvy body with a scowl. Really.
I glance around and heave a relieved sigh when I realize Nurse Vicky isn’t anywhere to be seen. A smile spreads across my face. Maybe I’m in luck today.
“You’re four minutes late, Lyla. Yesterday, it was three. Am I starting to sense a pattern of increasing tardiness?” a stern voice booms from behind me.
I close my eyes and breathe out. Only a few more months until I’m certified. You only have to make it a few more months, Lyla.
“I was really only three minutes late, Nurse Vicky,” I say sweetly, “and I was getting Dr. Cannon his morning coffee.”
Nurse Vicky snorts. “And yourself as well, I see.” Her mouth twists up in a sneer. “You may expect special treatment because you’re a friend of Dr. Cannon’s, but like I’ve told you before, that won’t fly here. Surgery is a serious specialty, and what we do here for these soldiers can be the difference between them living fulfilled lives or tragically passing away. There is no room on this floor, or in this hospital, for some flighty nitwit worried about getting the surgeons coffee.” She glances down at her watch. “And you were four minutes late, five now because I’ve been forced to give you this lecture.”
I stare down at my white hard-soled shoes, feeling ashamed. “I never meant to sound like I don’t take this job seriously, Nurse Vicky. You know how much this internship means to me. It’s everything.”
“Well then, you should probably act like it. I may have respected your father, but you are another story. You need to earn my respect, as well as the respect of your peers here. The only way to do that is to show up and work hard.”
I swallow back tears at the mention of my father. I ball my fists by my side. How dare she mention him and compare me to the heroic man who raised me? I know I will never be him, but I work my tail off here. Unfortunately, I know an angry response will only result in another tongue lashing. I gulp and take a deep breath. “Thank you for reminding me what I need to do, Nurse Vicky,” I say meekly.
“Why does everyone look so serious around here? It’s barely eight in the morning. I haven’t even rounded yet, but you two look like the day has already turned to shit. What do I need to know?” Asher’s chipper voice bounces around the white walls, washing the sterile environment with the ray of sunshine it desperately needs.
I immediately glance up and smile at the center of my universe, Dr. Asher Cannon. He’s the bright spot in my life and the one person who could make the wicked witch of the west seem like a conquerable adversary. His sandy brown hair is messy as usual, and his lab coat emphasizes his broad muscles just right. Sigh. And he doesn’t even work out that much. I asked him once. Imagine licking my way across those abs…
“Hello, Dr. Cannon. Lyla and I were just having a chat about her priorities.” Nurse Vicky folds her arms and glares over at me. “She seems to think getting both of you coffee in the morning is more important than tending to patients.”
Asher chuckles and reaches out for the bag and one of the cups in my hands. “Ah, Nurse Vicky, you forget how important coffee is to any doctor’s ability to do their work.” Asher winks at Nurse Vicky and I watch in awe as a blush stains her wrinkled cheeks. “I asked Lyla to get me coffee and a sweet treat so I could get a good start to my morning. So, don’t blame her too much, okay? She’s just making sure I don’t turn into a bear and snap at some poor resident.” He flashes a charming smile her way.
“Well, um,” Nurse Vicky clears her throat and shuffles her feet, “just try to make sure her errands for you don’t interfere with her other responsibilities, Dr. Cannon. But I understand your job is the most important here so of course, we want you performing at your top capabilities,” she capitulates. She clears her throat again and folds her arms across her midsection. “We have a lot of patients to get to this morning, Dr. Cannon. We’ll get out of your way so you can proceed on your rounds.”
I almost roll my eyes at her proper tone. Her back is ramrod straight and her salt and pepper hair is tied up in a restrictive bun. She is the only nurse on the floor who wears the old white uniform instead of the blue scrubs allowed by the department and that outfit is starched to perfection. That blush that Dr. Cannon made appear is the only human emotion I think I’ve ever seen her display.
Asher nods regally and gives us another bright smile. “Of course, ladies. Have a good day. I’ll see you in the trenches later.”
I walk quickly behind Nurse Vicky as she walks away. When I glance back, Asher is watching us with a small smile on his face. He rocks back on his heels and rolls his eyes. When he mouths “wicked witch of the west,”, I have to stifle a giggle.
Dr. Asher Cannon. The sweet, flirty, talented surgeon. The man who tried everything to save my father’s life. The man who was my dad’s best friend and watched me grow from a pimply, brace-wearing teenager into well…a plump young woman with better skin. Dr. Asher Cannon…the man I’m hopelessly and irrevocably in love with.