3
Back in my office, I find the stranger sitting in my chair with his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. A ball of rubber bands, wound tightly together, usually sits on my desk. He’s found it and is deftly throwing it into the air, where it rises slowly and then plummets back down, landing in his outstretched hand. He repeats the motion, over and over.
Distracted by the ball, he doesn’t see me in the doorway. I take advantage and look him over. Brown hair with a slight wave. A tiny scar in his left eyebrow, a thin line where the hair doesn’t grow. Faint stubble covers his cheeks, leading down to a cleft chin.
Life’s unfair. He really is good-looking, in a boyishly handsome way.
I clear my throat as I walk into the room, causing him to straighten.
“You changed your clothing.” He gives me a brief glance up and down.
“Yes, well, my shirt’s soaked.” I send him a pointed look full of blame. “So I put on scrubs.”
“Sorry about that.” His words tumble out. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Also, about your lecture, I—”
Raising my hand, I cut him off. “You know what? Just…forget about it.” I sigh, remembering the dumpster fire of my lecture and that disturbing text message. “It’s been a stressful day, that’s all. In case you haven’t noticed.”
His shoulders drop, relieved. “I did notice. I also noticed that you swear like a sailor.” A laugh rushes out of him, low and husky.
I blush and hate myself for it. “I didn’t catch your name.”
Seeming to recall his manners, the man stands, sending the office chair lazily spinning. He reaches out a large hand. “Ethan Clark. I’m applying for the radiology residency position that just opened up.”
His handshake is like his smile, warm and confident. I pull my hand away quickly.
“Tiffany Hart. I’m a third-year resident.” I feel silly about introducing myself. He saw my lecture. He knows who I am.
Ethan doesn’t bat an eyelash, just says a smooth, “Nice to meet you.” He flashes a brilliant smile, so handsome I almost forget to be mad at him.
Almost.
“Well.…” I’m suddenly awkward, not sure what to do with this beast of a man in my small office. Ethan fills up the room, forcing me back against the door and making me tilt my head to meet his gaze. He’s tall, well over six feet. It’s all a bit overwhelming. I feel a need to remind him that this is my office. I’m the boss here.
“Why don’t you sit, and I can start the interview?” I deliberately point to the smaller chair in the corner of the room. Ethan moves the chair closer and takes a seat. I almost feel guilty about how comically oversized he looks with his knees bunched up, like an adult sitting in a kindergarten classroom. I go to my chair, still warm from his lingering body heat.
“What do you like about radiology?” I begin.
“I like the challenge of it. How the images are like a mystery. All the clues are there. It’s up to us to put them together so we can make a diagnosis. I like how fast-paced it is. You can help so many people in a single day. More than in a specialty like internal medicine.” Again, that dazzling smile. I think he does it on purpose, knowing how disarming it is. Those white teeth would blind most women, but not me. I became immune to beautiful boys long ago.
Ethan leans back in his chair, seemingly at ease. “That’s what I’m doing now, internal medicine, at Highview Hospital in Cleveland. I’m in my second year. Last spring, they named me chief resident.”
I’m sure he’s bragging about his accomplishment to impress me for the interview, but it has the opposite effect. So arrogant. I frown. “You’re close to finishing your residency there. Why switch to radiology?”
That pretty smile of his fades. “I always wanted to do radiology. I originally applied to a couple of programs but didn’t get in. Internal medicine was Plan B. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great specialty. Just not for me.”
This admission, that he didn’t get into radiology on the first try, embarrasses him. I can tell. It’s in the subtle ducking of his head and refusal to meet my eyes.
“How about you? What made you go into radiology?” His gaze travels over my face, touching lightly on my hair and ending at my eyes. There’s a quiet curiosity in that look, an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
“Pretty much for the same reasons as you.” I don’t tell him about the hours I spent at my mom’s bedside in the hospital. Or about the promise I made that I would become a doctor. How I swore to dedicate my life to healing others. Those details are mine, not to be shared.
“Will your current residency be upset if you leave? Do they know you’re interviewing today?” Sometimes people do interviews like this in secret, not wanting to burn bridges with their current training program.
“My internal medicine director knows that I always wanted to get into radiology. He’s friends with Dr. Washburn, so when he heard you had a position open unexpectedly, he recommended me for the spot.” Ethan leans forward, closer to me. The room fills with a clean man smell, warm laundry and generic brand soap with a hint of mint. I inhale deeply, breathing in that scent.
His next words shock me. “It’s going to be a resident exchange program. That’s how it’s going to work. I come here for residency, and the rest of you, including me, start doing rotations up in Cleveland. Two of us will go up there for a couple of weeks at a time. They don’t have any residents in the Radiology Department at that hospital, so they need our help.”
This is the first time I’ve heard of a plan to go to Cleveland, and I don’t like it one bit. A particular little furry cat friend at home named Fred would object to my absence. He would be angrily peeing in my shoes for weeks if I left him alone for that long.
I scowl, annoyance rippling through me. “What I’m hearing is that you come here to Columbus and get your dream job. In return, the rest of us radiology residents drive three hours to a strange hospital to work as cheap labor in an understaffed department. Is that correct?”
Ethan stares back at me, not smiling anymore. Thunder clouds gather in that tiny room. Angry lightning flashes from his eyes to mine and back again.
He says, “I guess you could look at it that way, but that’s not how I see it.”
“Oh, yeah?” I arch an eyebrow in challenge. “And how, exactly, do you see it?”
“As the only way I get into the residency I’ve wanted since med school.” He sets his jaw. “Listen, don’t blame me. I’m just telling you what I know.”
Like mirror images, we glare at each other.
It all becomes clear to me. This interview is a formality. If what Ethan says is true, then Dr. Washburn already plans to send us to Cleveland. Knowing him, he made some shady backroom deal with the hospital there. The mysterious text, my ruined lecture, my stained shirt, and now this Cleveland news. Can this day get any worse?