Chapter 14 #2
She turned back and took another sip of her drink, then jumped as Lorenzo himself sat down next to her. “Winnie,” he said.
“Hi! How was the rest of your day?”
“Do not ever tamper with one of my presentations again,” he said, his voice low. “That was humiliating.”
“What?” She sat up straighter, then lowered her voice. “It wasn’t humiliating, Lorenzo. It was funny, and it let the audience know you have a sense of humor.”
“I don’t have a sense of humor,” he said. “I am, however, greatly skilled at handling complications during very difficult surgeries. That was the subject of my talk, and yet seventeen people thus far have commented on your ridiculous cartoon.”
“Yeah, okay, but it showed you were human. Also, you do have a sense of humor. It’s just not blatant. It won’t hurt your reputation as a surgeon, and it just might help your reputation as a speaker.”
“My reputation as a speaker is unimpeachable. Or it was until today.”
She wondered what he’d say if she told him what Dr. Pink Shirt had just said.
“People laughed,” she said. “They paid attention.”
“They always pay attention.”
“Yes, but think of it as a comedic break during a very serious lecture. A chance for them to take a breath for a second.”
“Winnie, I know my audience better than you do.”
“Great talk today, Lorenzo!” came a voice. “Loved the OR humor, too.” He turned to Winnie with a smile and offered his hand. “Hello! John Granger, Linda Loma Medical Center. And you are?”
“She’s my personal assistant,” Lorenzo said, barely registering the man.
“Winnie Smith,” she said, shaking his hand. She recognized his name from Lorenzo’s schedule next week. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here! Great to see you, Lorenzo. We have that conference call coming up, don’t we?”
Lorenzo glanced at Winnie, and she gave a slight nod. “Correct,” he said.
“Excellent! Well, have a great night, and safe travels back East.”
“Nice to meet you,” Winnie said, then turned back to Lorenzo. “See? Told you. The cartoon was great. Now order a drink.”
“No, I will not. Winnie, I want to be clear. I did not appreciate your addition to my presentation.”
“Yes, that comes through loud and clear. Sorry. It will never happen again, even though you’re missing a chance to connect with people.”
“I don’t need to connect with people,” he growled. “It’s not part of my job. My job is to save lives in situations where most physicians would fail, and I do that quite well.” His eyes were shooting spiky icicles.
“Yes, you’re the second coming. I’m well aware, since you remind me every two hours.” She took a sip of her drink.
“Sir, what can I get you?” the bartender asked Lorenzo.
“San Pellegrino, no ice,” he growled.
“Please and thank you,” Winnie said to the bartender. “He’s mad at me, not you.”
The guy winked and got Lorenzo his water.
“Here’s the thing, Lorenzo,” Winnie said, keeping her voice quiet. “You’re right. Your reputation is unimpeachable. But you don’t fool me. You’re a good guy. You just don’t want anyone to know that.”
He rolled his eyes. “What makes you think I’m a good guy, Winnie? And also, why would that matter as long as I do my job well?”
“Because you’re more than your job.” She kept her voice low, matching his. “You’re a good guy because you look after your family. Granted, it’s by writing checks, but maybe that’s your love language.”
“What in God’s name is a love language? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“You tipped the bartender fifty percent last night. You left the hotel cleaning crew a hundred dollars yesterday and today. You kicked that wrinkled old doctor’s ass in that DEI presentation and then made sure everyone in that room listened to the other doctors. You think that went unnoticed?”
He grunted. Finished his San Pellegrino, which was mostly ice.
“And you were very nice when I saw Mitchell the other day,” she added.
“Who’s Mitchell?”
“Oh, save it. You know full well who he is. You love your siblings, even if you don’t feel a hundred percent comfortable around them, and you take good care of your family.
I’d venture to say that you even love children, even if they terrify you.
I mean, your expression in some of those photos is nothing short of dumbstruck with love. ”
“I have never been dumbstruck by anything, and children do not terrify me. You should probably make that cocktail your last.”
“It’s my first.”
“Did you have anything to eat today?”
“Yes. Eggs Benedict for breakfast, a hot dog, then a huge ice cream sundae at Ghirardelli’s.”
“You’ll be dead of a heart attack by fifty if you keep that up.”
“At least I’ll die happy and well fed.”
He almost smiled, just a shifting of the muscles of his face, a glint in his blue eyes, and she felt it in her stomach, a warm, curling squeeze.
Hey, now. What was that?
“Back to the subject at hand, Satan,” she said briskly. “It wouldn’t hurt you to let your guard down a little.”
“I think it could hurt me quite a lot,” he said, and he looked at her for a long minute, and in his clear blue eyes, she saw something she didn’t exactly expect.
He was lonely. He was brilliant, and sought after and busier than most people on earth, and he was lonely.
A bellow of laughter came from Dr. Pink Shirt’s table—Dammy-ahn—and Winnie glanced at them again.
There he was, leaning toward another doctor as he glanced at Lorenzo.
He pulled a face, laughed, and slapped the other person’s back and said something to his companion.
And maybe it was because she was fourth of five children, but Winnie excelled at eavesdropping, and she heard what he said.
“Such a pretentious asshole.”
Nope.
Winnie hopped off the stool. “Excuse me,” she said, taking a step closer to Dr. Pink Shirt and his buddies.
“I overheard what you just said about Dr. Santini, and I couldn’t help but disagree.
He is not dry and dull as dust, and if he was, why do you trail after him like a lost puppy hoping he’ll pat you on the head?
Also, he’s not pretentious because he doesn’t have to pretend.
He’s a genius, and if you’re too dumb to realize that, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust you with a scalpel. ”
And then, in the silence that felt suddenly very obvious, she suddenly felt mortified. Behind her, she could feel Lorenzo’s censure, simmering like lava about to erupt. How humiliating—his assistant, who hadn’t even graduated from college, defending him. He was going to fire her for sure.
“Well. Thank you for your input, uh…Miss…person,” Damian said. “Would you care to join us?”
“No!” she said. “Absolutely not.” She turned to the bartender. “Charge my drink to my room, okay? 1503, last name Smith. Give yourself a twenty-dollar tip.”
She didn’t look at Lorenzo, felt the unexpected sting of tears behind her eyes.
Her face was burning. It took a thousand steps to reach the exit, and she was terrified she’d turn her ankle in the unfamiliar shoes.
So much for feeling glam earlier. She felt like an idiot right now.
Finally, she was next to the elevators, jabbing the down button repeatedly.
“What is it about you and making a scene in bars?” Lorenzo asked, and she jumped, not realizing he’d followed her. “This isn’t trivia night at the Ice House.”
“How do you know about the Ice House?” she asked.
“Dante told me just after I hired you. You also told me yourself, just last night.”
“Oh. Right.”
The doors slid open, and it seemed like a hundred people poured out, leaving the elevator empty for the two of them. They stepped in, and the doors closed.
“I certainly don’t need you defending me,” Lorenzo said. “Dr. Hughes is a very good surgeon. He is not ‘dumb,’ as you said.”
“He called you a pretentious asshole!”
“So?”
“So he was disrespecting you!”
“And?”
“And I didn’t like it!” she exclaimed. “Because, Lorenzo, you’re rare, okay?
Even in this hotel, with all these surgeons from all over the country, you stand out.
They all wish they had what you have. They all admire you.
You have the brains, the skill, the integrity.
And if the only way one of them can feel good about himself is to try to take you down, well, fuck him.
And if me telling him off somehow hurts your beloved reputation, sue me. ”
He didn’t sue her. He kissed her instead.