2. Addie
ADDIE
“ T hanks, Alex,” Dr. Adrienne Wolfe said as she stepped out of the car.
Alex gave her a quick nod before pulling out and disappearing into the morning traffic.
Alex wasn’t a full-time driver. She just came on mornings like this when Addie needed to get Sophie, her five-year-old, to school before she hurried over to work.
She’d drive herself, but a previous accident had made driving almost impossible for her. Even though years had passed, she still wasn’t willing to risk the life of her five-year-old angel.
The pediatric wing was already buzzing with life when she arrived.
The colorful shapes painted on the walls blended with the bright colors of the nurses’ scrubs as they moved quickly through the rooms, their voices mixing with the soft hum of machines and the occasional sound of laughter from the children.
It was a typical Phoenix Ridge energy.
“Morning, Dr. Wolfe,” one of the nurses said.
“Morning, Dana,” Addie replied, giving her a quick nod as she passed by. There was something eccentric in the floral and fruitiness of her perfume. It paired wonderfully with the large smile on her chubby face and the delicate flower petals on her scrubs. “How’s Lucy doing?”
“She’s a fighter.” Dana stopped and turned, the curls of her brown hair clinging to her face. “Vitals are stable, but she’s still not eating much.”
Lucy was a six-year-old who’d recently come out of surgery. She’d been saved from a burning house by the Phoenix Ridge Fire Department, and still hadn’t recovered from the shock .
Addie frowned. “I’ll stop by her room in a bit.”
“Thanks,” Dana said.
Addie moved down the hallway, greeting the rest of the staff and patients as she went. The hospital was like a second home to her. Scratch that—the hospital was family.
It didn’t take much to fall into the rhythm of things. Everything was familiar, from the sound of the pagers to the sterile smell that clung to every surface.
She turned from the hallway and walked into a room. The blue-and-cream paint on the walls mimicked overlapping ocean waves and sandy shores.
Her patient, Annie, was on the bed and connected to a CPAP. Annie was a six-year-old with respiratory infection, but she was always as calm as a dove.
They usually matched their patients’ energy to their rooms, and just like the beachfront, Annie’s aura was soothing.
“Hey there, Annie,” Addie said, sitting beside her. She watched the girl’s thorax rise and fall as she checked out her chest symmetry and respiratory rate. “How are you feeling today? ”
“Better.” Annie shrugged, her golden brown pigtails framing her slightly pale face. “But I don’t like the food here.”
If Addie had a penny every time she heard that, she’d have enough to afford a trip to Mars.
She chuckled. “Hospital food isn’t the best, is it?”
Annie shook her head, her lips pulling into a tiny frown.
“I’ll talk to the nurses and see if we can get you something better,” she said. “But you need to eat. Otherwise we can’t let you go home, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled.
She glanced at the chart on the end of her bed before standing up. Annie’s vitals were in order. Addie jotted down some details about Annie’s further care plan.“I’ll check on you later.”
“Bye, Dr. Addie,” Annie said, giving her a small wave.
She waved back before stepping out of the room. Her rounds continued for the next hour—checking charts, talking to patients, and re-diagnosing.
It was the same routine every day, but she never minded it. The kids made it worth the predictability.
On reflex, she checked her phone quickly to see if there were any updates from Sophie’s school. Nothing. Not that she expected there to be anything bad, since Sophie never got into any trouble.
She’d been extra excited about school this morning, practically bouncing in her seat when Addie had dropped her off. It was hard not to smile when she thought about her. She was the best part of her day, no matter what.
“Everything okay, Dr. Wolfe?” a voice asked behind her.
She turned to see Dr. Madeline Summers, one of the pediatricians. Madeline was the chattiest of all the doctors at Phoenix Ridge General Hospital. Her obsidian hair, styled in a chic pixie cut, added to her warm and relatable vibe.
Somehow, she seemed to know everything about everyone, which wasn’t so difficult here. The entire hospital was so tight-knit that secrets were almost impossible to keep. Madeline just happened to know a little more than most, to put it nicely .
Addie slipped her phone back into her pocket and flashed a quick smile. “Yeah, just thinking about Sophie.”
“Being a mom is the best, huh?”
“Something like that.” Addie smiled and leaned against the counter. “Any updates on Jackson’s case?”
Madeline glanced at the chart in her hand. “We’re still waiting on the latest lab results. Should have them by noon.”
Addie nodded. “Let me know as soon as they come in.”
Madeline gave Addie a quick nod before walking off, leaving her alone in the hallway. Addie’s mind wandered back to Sophie again—the way she’d giggled when she kissed her goodbye this morning, and how she’d hugged her tightly before running off to join her friends.
Sophie was her everything, especially since relationships weren’t her strong point. She’d given it a try countless times. Damn, she’d even tried dating apps, hoping to find “the one.” It never ended well, not even with Margo, her last serious girlfriend.
Addie sighed.
That was five years ago. She’d long since given up on dating. After having Sophie through an anonymous donor, she’d sworn off relationships and hadn’t looked back.
“Dr. Wolfe,” Dana called. “There’s a patient in room six asking for you.”
She nodded and headed down the hall. The patient, a four-year-old girl with a broken arm, was sitting up in bed, her mother hovering nearby.
“Good morning,” she said, stepping up to the bed. “How’s our little trooper doing today?”
The girl gave her a small smile. Her arm was wrapped in a bright pink cast, and her mother looked relieved to see Addie.
“She’s doing better,” she said. “But she’s still in some pain.”
“That’s normal,” Addie said, checking the chart. “I’ll adjust her meds. She should be more comfortable in a bit.”
The girl’s mother nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Dr. Wolfe.”
Addie smiled and patted the girl’s head, then stepped out into the hallway.
“How’s it going today?” a familiar voice asked .
“I’ve had worse days,” Addie said, looking up.
There wasn’t anyone around her, but she could hear two voices chatting through the window next to her. Madeline’s voice she recognized at once, but the second voice was a little harder to place.
“Had to cover quite a lot,” Madeline was saying. “Good thing we’re going to have an extra pair of hands around here.”
The second voice was equally as enthusiastic as Madeline’s. “You heard about the new surgeon already? Giselle Carlisle?”
A new doctor? Addie hadn’t heard about that at all.
Oh, well.
“Yeah, she’s a top cardiothoracic surgeon,” Madeline said. “But word is, she’s...intense.”
Addie shook her head. Intense ? That was Cardio Gods for you. She paused, pretending to review a patient’s chart so she could keep eavesdropping.
“Pragmatic is a better word,” the second voice suggested. “All business, no warmth. But she’s good. Real good.”
She frowned. People always liked to make judgments based on rumors. It wasn’t something she paid much attention to. She’d rather see for herself than let hearsay shape her opinion.
She’d hardly taken two steps past the window when she spotted two figures down the hallway. The first, she recognized all too well—Dr. Josephine Mars, the head of the hospital. The second caused her steps to falter.
The woman next to Josephine was striking. Her angular face was framed with dark hair pulled back into a sleek bun, her expression sharp and focused. She had broad shoulders and wore an immaculate white shirt tucked into well-tailored pants.
She’d seen plenty of masculine women in her life, but the aura in this one’s stride made her stop and stare. This woman knew she was gorgeous, didn’t care about it at all, and still exuded it.
Like her white coat, her brown shoes glinted in the lighting as she took in everything around her like she was analyzing the hospital. There was something about the way she carried herself—confident and distant—that was captivating .
Addie’s heart stuttered in her chest. She couldn’t help staring.
The woman was beautiful, but there was something more—something that made her want to stand straighter in her presence, maybe even avoid eye contact completely.
It looked like they were heading to the OR. Addie tried to look away when her eyes met the woman’s. They were an exotic, piercing shade of blue. Addie’s head rattled with thoughts as she stared.
She was so caught in her gaze that she forgot to smile. She just stood there and stared at the woman, who didn’t smile either.
Could this be the new doctor Madeline had talked about?
“Addie,” Dr. Mars called out, waving her over. She looked away, suddenly embarrassed. The heat in her cheeks felt like it could burn her skin. “Come along. We could use you.”
Addie blinked, trying to shake the awe that had settled over her. She took a breath and walked toward them, feeling the weight of the woman’s gaze as she approached.
“Dr. Wolfe,” Josephine said, turning to the blue-eyed woman. “This is Dr. Giselle Carlisle, one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the country. She will be joining us here at Phoenix Ridge.”
Giselle. A fitting name.
Addie smiled, trying to settle the nerves inside her. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Carlisle.”
The woman’s eyes met Addie’s again, but she didn’t smile. Her expression remained unreadable, and her voice was calm as she said, “Likewise.”
Her tone threw Addie off. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. Just...neutral. Most people she met at work were quick to either be overly friendly or, at the very least, polite.
One thing felt certain—Madeline had been right when she’d called Giselle intense. Giselle was different. There was a sense of distance, as if she didn’t have time to engage in pleasantries.
Dr. Mars cleared her throat. “We’re going to do some preliminary rounds. Would you join us, Addie?”
Addie knew Josephine well enough to realize that wasn’t a suggestion.
She nodded. “Of course.”
As they walked, Addie found herself stealing glances at Giselle.
There was no denying her presence. She wasn’t the type of person anyone could ignore, even if they wanted to.
The way she moved, her posture—it all spoke of someone who was used to being in control, who didn’t let anything or anyone slow her down.
“So, Dr. Carlisle,” Josephine said as they walked. “How’s Phoenix Ridge treating you?”
“Everything seems pretty efficient,” Giselle said. “The facilities are well maintained, and the staff appears capable.”
Capable?
Addie winced internally at the word. It sounded too detached, as if they were all just parts of a machine that either functioned well or didn’t. But she stayed quiet, not wanting to jump into a conversation.
Josephine, however, didn’t miss a beat. “I’m sure you’ll find the team here more than capable.”
Giselle nodded slightly, her attention already back on the case file Josephine had handed her. Addie wondered if she cared about things like teamwork or bonding with colleagues.
As they rounded the corner, she kept pace next to Josephine, still too aware of Giselle and the spiciness of her perfume.
“How about you, Addie?” Josephine asked. “How’s everything in peds?”
“Busy as always,” she said. “But we’ve got some pretty interesting kids in the wards.”
“Patients, you mean,” Giselle said.
Addie felt a flurry of emotions. First, she hated that the new woman had cut in to call the kids patients in a tone that suggested they didn’t matter. Then again, her voice sounded sonorous, almost seductive, as the words left her lips.
She decided it was best to keep her response to the bare minimum.
“I’d rather call them kids.”
Josephine nodded, glancing at Giselle. “Addie here is a bit of a miracle worker when it comes to the kids.”
Giselle didn’t look up from the file. “I’m sure.”
The nurses had painted a picture of someone cold, but it wasn’t that simple. Addie could see the way Giselle focused, the way she was already in work mode. Maybe she wasn’t cold—just careful. She had walls up, and even though Addie had just met her, she wondered why they were so high.
They stopped outside the patient’s room, and Josephine turned to Addie. “You’ve been following this case, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, Janet’s been stable since the surgery,” she said, glancing at the door. “But we’re monitoring her closely.”
Giselle looked up at the mention of surgery. “What kind of surgery?”
“Complex heart defect,” she said. “We performed an atrial switch a week ago.”
Her eyes flickered with interest for the first time since they’d started walking. Addie liked it a bit too much. “And her recovery?”
“Slow but steady,” she said. “We’re keeping an eye out for any signs of complications.”
Giselle nodded once, her attention shifting from Addie to the door. “I’ll take a look at her.”
Josephine gave her a small smile. “Why don’t you take the lead on this one, Addie? I think it’d be good for Dr. Carlisle to see your work up close.”
She hesitated for a split second, but then nodded. “Sure. ”
When they entered the room, the conversation faded into the background as they approached the bedside. Janet was asleep, her small chest rising and falling in rhythm with the machines. Her mother sat by her side.
“Good morning,” Addie said quietly as she stepped up to the bed. “How’s she doing today?”
“About the same,” her mother said, her voice tired. “She’s still so weak.”
Giselle was already looking at the chart, her face a mask of concentration. She didn’t acknowledge the mother or offer any words of comfort or reassurance—she was too focused on the folder in front of her to bother.
Addie checked Janet’s vitals as her mother watched with a furrowed brow.
“She’s progressing,” she said calmly. “It’ll take time, but she’s getting there.”
She nodded, her eyes flicking to Giselle, who was now examining the surgical site.
“Her recovery looks good,” Giselle said. “No signs of infection.”
Addie glanced at her, surprised by the bluntness. She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t exactly the reassurance the mother sought .
“We’ll do our best to ensure she’s fine, okay?” Addie said.
The mother nodded, although Addie couldn’t tell if she believed her.
Her pager suddenly went off:
STAT SURGERY OR 3
Giselle’s went off, too. She moved toward the door, slowed down, and turned to face Addie.
“Where’s OR Three?” she asked.
For someone who’d sounded very detached a few seconds ago, she was all too willing to head into an OR and save a life. But then, that’s surgeons for you. Always ready to cut.
Addie smiled.
“Follow me,” she said.