5. Giselle
GISELLE
G iselle sat in her office, staring out the window as sunlight filtered in. Her first day at Phoenix Ridge General was almost over, and she was fine. The surgery had gone well, as expected.
The doctors here were competent, though they watched her every move like she was conducting an experiment. That didn’t bother her. What did was how they acted after the surgery—relieved, warm, almost celebratory, as though they needed to bond over saving a life.
It wasn’t necessary. They’d done their jobs. That should’ve been enough.
And then there was Addie.
Addie Wolfe was a good surgeon—more than good.
Giselle had observed one of her surgeries from the viewing gallery.
But after the surgery where she had observed Giselle, it seemed like Addie had transformed into mush.
She’d stayed behind, checking on the patient like a worried parent instead of a professional.
That was amateur. They were there to save lives, not to make emotional investments in patients.
Giselle leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. She didn’t understand it. Why did everyone here act so...warm? It was unnecessary and, frankly, distracting.
Her phone buzzed on the desk and she glanced down—it was a message from Josephine requesting a meeting in her office. Giselle’s brows furrowed. She hadn’t expected to be summoned so soon after the surgery.
She stood up, straightened her coat, and headed out of her office.
As she walked down the hall, her thoughts drifted back to Addie.
It was hard not to notice her. That had been a problem since the moment they’d met.
Addie was beautiful, no doubt about that.
Her beautiful hazel eyes, her light brown hair against her face, and the softness of her expression even when she was serious… all of it was stunningly annoying.
Giselle didn’t want to be distracted by her, so she flung those thoughts to the recess of her mind.
When she reached Josephine’s office, she knocked once and then stepped inside. Josephine was behind her desk, shuffling through papers.
“Giselle,” Josephine said, gesturing to the chair in front of her. “Sit.”
Giselle sat down, her back straight, waiting for Josephine to speak.
Josephine looked at her. Her eyes were as sharp as they’d been that morning. But there was something different in her expression now. This wasn’t about a case. There weren’t any open files on her table.
This was personal. Giselle braced herself.
“I wanted to talk about what happened in the OR today,” Josephine began.
Giselle’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t made a mistake. She knew that.
“Your skills are unmatched,” Josephine continued. “There’s no doubt about that. But there’s more to this job than just technical skill.”
Giselle’s shoulders tensed. “I’m here to save lives, not socialize.”
Josephine leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “Saving lives is part of it, yes. But you’re also working with people—patients, families, colleagues. They’re not objects.”
“I know that,” Giselle said, her voice clipped. “But my job is to perform the surgery and ensure the patient survives. I don’t see how being friendly makes me a better surgeon.”
Josephine sighed and leaned back in her chair. “It’s not just about the surgery, Giselle. It’s about how you interact with the team and the people around you. They need to trust you, and trust doesn’t come from skill alone.”
Giselle’s jaw clenched. “They don’t need to like me to work with me.”
Josephine studied her for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. “This isn’t about being liked. It’s about creating an environment where people feel comfortable working with you. You need to find a balance.”
Giselle bristled at the suggestion. She’d spent years perfecting her craft to ensure she was the best. And now, after one day at this hospital, she was being told she needed to change.
“I don’t see why it matters,” Giselle said. “The girl survived. That’s the only important thing.”
Josephine didn’t flinch. “That’s important. But how you engage with the team matters, too. People here are used to working with and supporting each other. You need to find a way to fit into that dynamic.”
A spark of irritation jostled down Giselle’s spine. She’d been doing just fine on her own for years. She didn’t need to “fit in” with anyone. She took a breath to steady her voice.
“Is this about Dr. Wolfe? She seems...distracted. She’s more concerned with emotions than her job.”
Josephine raised an eyebrow. “Addie is one of the best pediatric surgeons we have. And she cares about her patients. That’s not a weakness. ”
Giselle’s irritation flared. “It gets in the way. She’s too involved. It’s not efficient.”
Josephine watched her for a moment, silent. Then she shook her head. “You’ll have to learn to deal with it.”
Giselle’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because you and Addie complement each other,” Josephine said. “You’re both brilliant. And yes, you have different approaches, but you balance each other out.”
Giselle shook her head, frustration building. “I don’t need balance. I need someone focused.”
Josephine smiled slightly, but there was no humor in it. “Addie is focused. More than you give her credit for. She’s just focused on more than the surgery itself.”
Giselle opened her mouth to argue, but Josephine cut her off.
“And that’s not a bad thing,” Josephine said. “You might learn something from her.”
Giselle’s mouth snapped shut, irritation prickling at her skin. The idea that she needed to learn anything from someone like Addie—someone who spent more time talking to patients than in the OR—was ridiculous. She crossed her arms, her gaze hard.
“I’ll do the job,” Giselle said, her tone sharp. “But don’t expect me to change the way I work.”
Josephine didn’t seem fazed. “I’m not asking you to change your skills. I’m asking you to be open to working as part of this team.”
Giselle pressed her lips together, frustration simmering. She didn’t understand why Josephine was pushing this so hard. But arguing wouldn’t get her anywhere, and she could tell Josephine wouldn’t budge.
“Fine,” Giselle said finally. “But don’t expect me to play nice.”
Josephine smiled again, this time more genuinely. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Giselle stood, ready to leave, but Josephine’s voice stopped her.
“Two more things, Giselle.”
She turned, waiting.
“Try to remember that these people—your colleagues, your patients—they’re more than just bodies to operate on or order around. They’re humans. And they deserve to be treated like it. ”
Giselle straightened her shoulders. “The second?”
“Your partner is Dr. Addie Wolfe this week.”
Giselle’s stomach turned. Somehow, she’d known this was coming, but it didn’t make it easier to hear. “We can work as a larger team. Include other doctors; don’t isolate me with her.”
“That’s not how we do things here,” Josephine said. “Collaboration is part of the job.”
Giselle forced herself to keep her voice steady. “I’ve collaborated before. I don’t have to do it with Addie alone. There can be others.”
Josephine smiled, but it wasn’t the friendly kind. It was the smile of someone who wouldn’t change their mind. “Addie is one of the best. And she brings what you’re missing to the table.”
“Empathy?”
“Among other things.”
Giselle turned abruptly, her patience wearing thin. “Dealing with blood and human tissue doesn’t require empathy. Imagine feeling sorry before making an incision.”
“Imagine treating people’s loved ones on your table like a pound of flesh you’re digging through.”
“Technically…” Giselle cocked her head, but Josephine’s raised hand stopped her.
“This isn’t negotiable,” Josephine said. “You’ll be working with Addie. And I expect you to learn to work with her, not against her.”
Giselle clenched her jaw, refusing to respond. There was no point in arguing. Josephine had already made up her mind, and Giselle knew when she was facing a wall she couldn’t break through.
Without another word, she turned and walked out of the office.
The hallway outside Josephine’s office felt too quiet, too empty.
Her footsteps echoed in the stillness as she headed back toward her office, her thoughts a mess of frustration.
She hated how Josephine had dismissed her concerns, but she hated that she was being forced to work with Addie Wolfe even more.
Addie was too soft, too concerned with things that didn’t matter.
Giselle had seen it in the way she’d stayed behind after the surgery, checking on the child like she was her mother.
That wasn’t how you practiced medicine. You did the job and then moved on to the next case.
There was no room for attachment, because sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose.
Attachment could gnaw at and break you, make you sob in the hallways when a patient passes.
As much as it irritated Giselle, something about Addie lingered in her mind—her effortless smile and her swiftness during the surgery. She was good, no doubt about that. But that empathy...it complicated things.
Giselle stopped before her office door, staring at the handle for a second longer than necessary. She considered, for a brief moment, going back to Josephine and insisting on a different partner. Maybe there was someone else on the team who wasn’t so emotionally invested in every single patient.
But she didn’t turn around. As much as she hated working with Addie, she wouldn’t give Josephine the satisfaction of seeing her struggle. She’d deal with it. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice, anyway.
She opened the door and stepped into her office, letting the door close softly behind her.
The room was quiet, but her mind wasn’t. Thoughts of Addie kept creeping in, uninvited. Giselle shook her head, trying to push them away. She wasn’t here to get distracted by anyone, especially not by a doctor who spent more time talking to patients than focusing on her job.
She dropped into the chair behind her desk and opened the file for her next surgery, forcing her attention back to the one thing that mattered—her work.
But even as she tried to focus, the memory of Addie’s face returned, that calm expression during surgery and how her eyes lit up when she spoke to patients.
Giselle didn’t want to admit it, but Addie Wolfe rattled her. It wasn’t just the way she worked; it was the way she existed in the ward. She was always so sure of herself and so comfortable with people. Giselle wasn’t like that. She’d never been like that .
Her phone buzzed on the desk, pulling her out of her thoughts. It was a message from the nurse’s station—another case waiting for her. She pushed herself up from the chair, her mind snapping back into focus.
Work. That was all that mattered.
She exited her office, closed the door firmly behind her, and headed toward the OR. The frustration still bubbled under the surface, but she pushed it aside. She had another life to save, and that was the reason she needed to keep moving.
When Giselle returned to her office at the end of the day, she recalled the time when her life had been filled with colors and warmth.
She hadn’t always been like this—distant and cold.
There’d been a time when she’d been different.
Empathetic almost, just like Addie. Back then, she believed in love, in connection.
Nicole, her ex, had brought that out in her, made her laugh, made her care.
But all of that changed when her parents refused to give their blessings. They said Nicole wasn’t good enough for their daughter.
Giselle had lost her love, and it hadn’t meant a thing to them. All she had now was her oath to save lives.
Then there was Addie. She looked like she had so much more. That had to be the only explanation for why she always seemed so cloyingly cheerful. It had to be more than just her oath that kept her upbeat and caring. Giselle shook her head. It should shove those thoughts from her mind.
It didn’t work.
Giselle sighed. Her thoughts kept returning to the same place—Addie Wolfe and those enchanting hazel eyes and the lovely curve of her hips.