Chapter Two
"YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING, Dr. Collington."
Emily burst into his office without knocking, which was not unusual, and without apology, which was also not unusual, and with an expression on her face that Kazeyuki had learned to associate with situations in which his assistant had decided that her priorities outranked his.
He reluctantly put his pen down. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Kitty might not graduate because one of the professors on her thesis panel doesn't want to agree to giving her a chance. Says her advertising thesis needs another semester of work."
"That's unfortunate," he acknowledged.
She brightened. "I knew I could count—"
"But I'm her neurosurgeon, not her lawyer."
"Dr. Collington!"
Kazeyuki frowned. Emily used to be in fear of him when she first started working as his assistant, but ever since Katherine became his patient, she had noticeably changed. It was as if her first job now was being Katherine's defender and protector, and his assistant second.
"I'm in charge of monitoring her health, not her academics."
"But what if she feels depressed because of this? And then her head starts to hurt and she's going to grow another aneurysm—"
He pointed to the door. "Out."
"I don't understand what she sees in you." Emily's voice had gone dark, her ponytail practically vibrating with conviction. "She's better off with someone else."
That much was true, Kazeyuki thought as he watched his assistant leave in a huff, but smart enough not to slam the door because they both knew that would be a line she should never, ever cross.
The silence that followed should have been a relief.
It wasn't.
As he made his rounds later that day, Kazeyuki was waylaid four times, quite politely to be fair, by a collection of people who had absolutely no business involving themselves in whether a twenty-one-year-old former patient graduated from her advertising program on time.
Nurse Prasida caught him first, outside the supply room on the fourth floor, her tone gentle but her eyes sharp.
Then the local church volunteer who had gifted Katherine with a Bible during her recovery and who apparently kept in touch.
Then Dr. Eddington from pediatrics, who had never once spoken to Kazeyuki about anything other than referrals and was now suddenly concerned about "the emotional wellbeing of young patients transitioning back to academic life.
" And finally, and most impressively, the best friend of his patient Jim's mother's girlfriend, a woman Kazeyuki had never met and whose connection to Katherine required a diagram to trace, but who nonetheless felt qualified to inform him that "the poor girl has been through enough. "
And the only thing they all had in common?
Speak of the troublemaker.
He saw her step out of the elevator at the opposite end of the hallway, laptop bag slung over one shoulder, and Kazeyuki's lips compressed into a line.
She had been in the co-working space again.
The one in the lobby, with the window-facing seat she claimed every time she came in for a follow-up, and on days she didn't have a follow-up, and on days that had no medical justification whatsoever.
Katherine had informed him, quite earnestly, that the hospital's WiFi was superior to her apartment's, and that as a freelance advertising consultant, reliable WiFi was a professional necessity.
He had not pointed out that the seat she chose faced his parking spot.
Perhaps Emily had reason to be concerned after all.
"Dr. Collington?"
It was Jonas, one of the residents assigned under him, and exactly the kind of person Kazeyuki needed to talk to. "Do you remember Ms. McKenna?"
"Oh, yeah. She's the girl who has a cru—" Too late, Jonas noticed the way Dr. Collington raised a brow, and he hastily corrected himself. "A crucial need to look after herself, having survived an aneurysm."
"Exactly."
Jonas wondered uneasily if he had just lied, and if he had, was that against his Hippocratic oath?
"Take a good look at her. Does anything seem amiss?"
Jonas gulped. Was this some kind of trick question? He took a closer look at Kitty, who was making her way down the corridor toward them. She was...pretty. Pretty cheerful. And pretty obvious with the way her whole face had already started to glow the moment she turned in their direction.
"Tell me what you see."
He knew it, he knew it. This was a trick question. Maybe even Dr. Collington's way of getting rid of him and passing him on to a junior doctor.
"She looks happy."
"Exactly."
Oh, thank God.
"She looks happy."
"Yes." Jonas nodded eagerly. From now on, Jonas believed God existed—
"But not joyful."
And he would never, ever doubt God's existence again—wait. What did Dr. Collington just say?
"You see it, don't you?"
Jonas started squinting, but no. He couldn't see it. Was this what distinguished residents from genius surgeons like Dr. Collington?
Kazeyuki clapped a hand over the younger man's back. "Yes, you can take the day off tomorrow. Consider that a thank you for doing a good job."
Jonas could only gape as Dr. Collington walked away. How was that possible? How did he know Jonas had been angling for time off? Dr. Collington truly was a genius.
Kazeyuki dropped his phone back into his coat pocket and waited patiently as he watched Katherine walk up to him, and...ah.
Classic Katherine.
She pretended to stumble. He pretended not to expect it. She laughed awkwardly. He waited for it to come to an equally awkward end.
It was rather relaxing, he mused, this routine of theirs.
"Um, sorry about that, Dr. Collington."
"It's fine," he said gravely.
"I don't know why I'm such a klutz."
"No, not at all."
"Maybe it's the floor."
"Should I inform maintenance—"
Her eyes widened in horror. "No, actually, it's not the floor!"
"Are you sure?"
"Totally, like a thousand percent sure, please forget that I ever said—" Her phone buzzed, cutting her off.
"You should get that," he advised.
"I, no—" He saw her lips part as she glanced at the screen.
"Everything alright?"
"It's the university, I...I think I should take this, after all. Would you excuse me, Dr. Collington?"
"Of course."
She stepped away, pressing the phone to her ear, and Kazeyuki remained where he was. He could not hear what was being said. He didn't need to.
Thirty seconds later, she came back to him looking like someone had told her she'd won the lottery.
"I'm sorry, I should go."
"I hope it's nothing serious?"
"It's..." Her eyes started to brighten with tears. "It's the opposite. I don't know why, but my thesis professor, he changed his mind! He's going to let me defend my thesis, and I'm sorry, I should go."
"Of course." He answered all the same even though she had already rushed back to the elevator, her red hair catching behind her as she half-walked, half-ran, and the corridor felt oddly still once she was gone.
When he walked back to his consultation room, Emily was smiling.
"I know what you did—"
"Last summer?"
Emily held up her phone. A post from Katherine's social media was on the screen, and Kazeyuki should not have let his gaze linger for as long as it did.
"Oh my gosh, Dr. Collington? I think you just low-key tried to memorize her socials?"
"You're mistaken."
"No, I know what you saw—"
Slam.
Kazeyuki had no trouble crossing the line. It was one of the few perks of being her boss, and truly, she was mistaken.
He was telling her the truth.
He didn't have to memorize it.
Because Katherine herself had told him about it on the day she was discharged—
Just in case I have an emergency, Dr. Collington. You should follow me on all my socials.