Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
AZARA
Today was quite literally from hell.
And I didn’t mean in a metaphorical sense.
My day started with a lovely flat tire as I was on my way to work and I’d barely managed to make it to the hospital on time. Then emergency surgeries kept piling up, and I’d barely had time to breathe, let alone eat, stuffing myself with packs of skittles in between operations.
And, of course, to top it all off, the sweltering heat we were currently being imprisoned with in London was clinging to my skin, making it feel like you were encased in a sauna all day.
Like did it have to be so bloody hot? And where was a breeze or the A/C when you needed it? I’d lived here my entire life and I still hadn’t grown accustomed to the unbearable heat.
I was already well past my breaking point when I slipped into my favorite supply closet to get a moment of reprieve. I’d discovered the sanctuary on my first day as a junior doctor after a registrar yelled at me for a mistake that was entirely his fault.
I’d always advocated for myself because men tended to look down on female doctors, especially ones that wanted to become surgeons, but with the new environment, it being my very first day and needing to prove that I belonged here on my own merit and not because of my father, I’d remained quiet.
I’d managed to keep it together until he’d released us for lunch and I’d beelined for anywhere that wasn’t public. I’d been looking for the toilets when I’d stumbled on this spare storage room on the short-stay surgical floor where they stored CPR dolls.
It had been the perfect escape and I’d been using it ever since whenever I needed a break from the chaos outside of these doors.
Which was exactly what I needed right now.
I hung my head back against the cool wall behind me and let out a deep breath. I’d just finished my fifth surgery of the day and my shift was almost over.
One more surgery and I’d be free to go home.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, taking a few, long steadying breaths. It was rare that my work got to me, but this past month had been one unrelenting wave of trials after the other, all triggered by my father quitting, and I truly felt like I was drowning.
I’d tried stopping by on multiple occasions, but he’d been more dismissive and distant with each of my visits. He barely left the house, spending his entire days locked in his home office as per my brother, and still wouldn’t tell me the real reason behind his sudden decision.
Because clearly it wasn’t because he wanted to like he’d been arduous in having me believe. Just one look at him immediately revealed that. He was miserable with his new reality.
I’d initially thought that maybe the board had forced him out, but with the frequency at which I’d been accosted by a different member at least once a day since my father’s resignation to ask if he would be willing to return, confirmed that my theory was wrong.
They still hadn't even filled his position because they’d been holding out hope—like I was—that my father would come to his senses and come back.
A beeping sound pulled me from my thoughts. I sighed and shifted to grab my phone. An alert from my glucose monitor flashed on the screen.
Ugh, not again.
I reached for the inside pocket of my long-sleeve fleece jacket for another small packet of skittles only to find nothing but empty wrappers.
This is just great.
I’d already plowed through my entire emergency stash and didn’t have anything nearby. The cafeteria was a floor down so I decided to head there to grab a juice and a protein bar. I made my way there, but just as I stepped out of the closet, I heard a voice call out my name.
I closed my eyes and let out a long, exasperated groan when I registered who it was. The urge to just abandon my composure, scream and melt into the ground was growing stronger by the second. I’d managed to be out of his sight the entire day because I didn’t need another thing to add to my list of grievances today.
Guess the world really hated me right now.
With a resigned sigh, I faced the way his voice had come from.
“Hey,” Michael said, jogging up toward me with that annoying smile of his.
Keeping convincing yourself it’s annoying, my brain managed to quip before I brushed it off. The last thing I needed was to argue with myself over this.
“What is it you want?” I asked when he halted in front of me. My phone rang again with another alert as my sugar dipped lower, but I quickly silenced it.
“Can’t I just say hello?”
I’d roll my eyes if I wasn’t so tired. With a sigh, I turned on my heels to leave but he grabbed my elbow to stop me. I immediately shrugged him off and turned to face him again.
“Look, I have somewhere to be,” I said, my patience already worn thin. He was wasting my time, and I needed to get to the cafeteria before my alarm went off again. “I don’t have time for your little act, so either tell me what it is you want or let me go.”
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” he observed, shoving his hands in his scrubs.
I didn’t bother acknowledging his stupid response. I started to walk away again.
“Okay, okay,” he said with a surprisingly sincere smile as he came to stand in front of me, effectively blocking my path. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. You have a tendency to make me do that.” He’d muttered that last part to himself and realizing his slip up, he immediately changed the subject. “The hospital’s COO wants to see us in his office.”
My eyes narrowed with caution. “What for? And why is it just you and I?” I asked, surprised, because the hospital’s administration never really talked to us, let alone summoned us for impromptu meetings.
“Yes, and I have no idea. I got an email from him just a few minutes ago. I was about to send you a message, but thought it’d be faster to just come find you since we have to be there,” he paused, glancing down at his watch, “now.”
I wanted to ask how he knew I was here, but I brushed it off when my mind only latched on when this meeting was supposedly happening.
My eyebrows shot up. “Now?”
“I know your shift is ending, but their email sounded quite… pressing.”
Fuck me .
I should tell him I’d meet him there so I’d have time to get my blood sugar in check, but the urgency in his tone had me following him to the nineteenth floor where David Thompson’s office was located.
Once there, Thompson’s assistant told us he was already expecting us in his office. Michael opened the door and gestured for me to go first. I quickly rubbed my eyes and swallowed before stepping into the glass-walled office.
“Dr. Young, Azara,” Thompson greeted us with a wide smile as he got up from his chair, his blond hair neatly combed back. He’d been the hospital’s COO long before I started here but I’d only met the old man a handful of times. “Please, do come in and have a seat.”
I controlled the stifling urge to scoff at him for not addressing me properly. If I wasn’t so exhausted from the day I’d just had, I would have corrected him, but it wasn’t really a battle I wanted to take on right this moment. The quicker I could get out of here, the better.
I cast a quick glance toward Michael as Thompson came to embrace him. For the briefest moment, I swore I could have seen a flicker of annoyance—one that matched mine—but it was gone almost instantly as he plastered his usual charm on like a second skin.
The familiarity between the two was a bit unnerving, but not surprising. People might believe hospitals would be an exception, but Boys’ Club was just as prevalent here as it was in every other industry.
I focused my attention back on the COO as I gave him a firm handshake before settling into one of the plush and luxurious suede chairs. My eyes briefly scanned the room, taking in the sleek and high-end decor. Thompson’s office looked straight out of a catalog and probably cost more than what I earned yearly.
The place had drastically changed from the first and only time I’d been here with my father when we presented solutions to help run the surgical department more smoothly.
I supposed this is where all our budget cuts went.
“Thank you both for coming,” he said as he sat back down into his oversized chair. “I know you’re both terribly busy, so I’ll get straight to the point.” He leaned slightly forward, his arms resting against the glass surface of his desk, and pinned us with a serious expression.
“As you know,” Thompson continued, “the medical director’s position has been vacant ever since your father—” he paused briefly, casting a fleeting, almost pitying look in my direction, “—resigned.”
I swallowed thickly against the lump in my throat at the mention of my father and focused my attention on the COO, impatiently waiting to know why we’d been called into his office.
“We’ve been looking for a suitable replacement, but, so far, we haven’t had any luck. It’s been rather difficult to find someone, especially since it would mean the candidate would get a seat on the board as well.”
He paused, his gaze shifting between the two of us, before he spoke up again. “I made a proposal to the rest of the board last week and they’ve just given me their approval to move forward.”
This man said he would get straight to the point, yet still had to say anything that we hadn’t already known. Just get on with it.
“I’m still not quite sure what this has to do with us,” Michael interjected, seeming as eager to find out as I was.
Thompson’s smile faltered, a flash of displeasure crossing his face, though he recovered quickly. “Yes, I understand,” Thompson said, but I could tell he hadn’t appreciated Michael’s interruption from the way his smile wasn’t quite reaching his eyes now. “I was getting there.”
Michael gave him a short nod, as if to tell him to go on.
“As I was saying,” Thompson continued, leaning back in his chair with an almost theatrical sigh, “I’ve made a proposal to the board and it was to consider you both for candidates.”
I blinked at him, my mind struggling to catch up with what he’d just said. Becoming a medical director took years of work to accomplish. Michael had just been appointed as a consultant and I still had a few months of training before I’d join him. Of course that was the ultimate goal later down my career path, but being given the opportunity at this point in our careers was unheard of.
“I’m sorry. What?” Michael echoed my thoughts, equally taken aback by the revelation.
“Both of you have shown tremendous talent and commitment to this hospital,” Thompson started to explain, his voice heavy with intent. “However, we couldn’t agree on who was best suited for the job. So, the board has agreed with my decision to put both of you up for the role. We’ll keep evaluating you until the new year and come to a vote at the end of that period. Whichever one of you shows the most promise will be appointed to the position.”
I was stunned into silence for a solid ten seconds before I asked, “So you’re… pitting us against each other for the role?”
“Consider it more like a friendly little competition,” Thompson said as though this was a lighthearted game rather than a job that could shape a doctor’s career.
Five months? A competition? I stared at him in disbelief as the realization of what he’d said slowly filtered through.
Working in healthcare was an arduous job in and of itself, but doing it in horrible working conditions made it almost impossible. You constantly found yourself battling between doing what you loved and quitting because we were often overstretched, overworked and underpaid for our labor.
This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I’d always dreamed of following in my father's footsteps. He’d done so much for the hospital and I’d always wanted to do even half of what he’d accomplished.
So I’d kept my head down and worked tirelessly to make my mark, proving that I was one of the best surgeons here—if not the best.
Which led me to my next point.
“Why is Dr. Young even considered? He just started here,” I said flatly, unable to stop myself. Because truly, what had Dr. Young done for this hospital. He’d been here for less than a year while I’d poured blood, sweat and tears into this facility.
Both men seemed a little surprised at my reaction, but Thompson was the one who spoke. “Yes, but his work here and his years at Orion make him just as qualified. Besides, a broader pool of candidates is much preferable. You wouldn’t want to get the job by default.”
I kept my face neutral and breathed calmly through my nose before I replied, “It wouldn’t be by default. I’ve been here for almost a decade.”
“The vote will take place right before the holidays and we’ll let you know our decision on January 5th once we’re back in the office,” Thompson said, ignoring my last comment.
I wanted to say more, but knew it would be pointless. I let out a slow, centering breath, when Michael finally broke his silence.
“So, what exactly does this ‘evaluation’ consist of?” he asked, his demeanor not revealing how he felt.
Thompson leaned forward again. “Over the next few months, we’ll keep monitoring your performances like we’ve been doing since you started working here. The decision will be taken based on your skills in the theater and your role in leadership of course. We expect initiative.”
That should be easy. I’d been leading teaching sessions and workshops for younger doctors the moment I finished my foundational years.
“Anything else we should be aware of?” I asked, knowing to question anything that seemed to be this easy.
“May the best man win,” he said, before winking. “Or woman in your case.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Great. Thank you for letting us know. I have a valve repair to get to very soon,” I said stiffly before getting up from my seat and letting myself out.
I probably shouldn’t leave both men alone, but I wanted my shift to be over and entertaining Thompson any longer wasn’t on my list of priorities.
All I cared about was the upcoming vote. We were in almost mid-August, which meant I had four months to complete my training hours and prove to AGH’s board that I was the right choice.
I waited for the elevators to come when I heard Michael come out of Thompson’s office. They seemed to be exchanging pleasantries which I did my best to ignore. The steel doors finally opened and I stepped inside the cabin.
I watched the two of them shake hands in goodbyes, when suddenly Michael firmly pulled our COO closer to his body. Just as the doors were about to close, I heard Michael’s voice again, however this time his tone had changed and carried a threatening note.
“Oh and by the way, it’s Dr. Ziani. Next time you’ll refer to her as such,” he said, his voice low enough that I almost didn’t hear it.
The lift doors slid shut before I could fully process what I had just overheard. My brows furrowed as I stood there, staring at the closed doors.
Surely I’d misheard him.
Yes, I must have. I was tired and delirious from the day I’d had and the weather.
I shook my head, dismissing it. I stepped out onto the surgical ward when my pager bleeped, notifying me that my surgery was canceled and pushed to tomorrow morning. There had been a medical emergency on another patient and the theater that had been booked for my surgery was needed.
After quickly checking on my patient, I changed, grabbed my things and headed out. I felt like I was forgetting something, but I pushed it aside, eager to get home.
Gosh I couldn’t wait to jump in bed and sleep.
As I headed for the parking lot at the back, my muscles protested with each movement, but I ignored it and walked down the stairs to reach where my car was parked. Once in it, I’d be able to go home, eat and rest.
But every move felt heavier than the next.
My phone rang with a notification, but as I reached to get a hold of it, I felt my steps falter. I reached out to grab onto the railing, steadying myself.
I shook my head from the sudden dizzy spell and reached for my phone again. I glanced down to see what it was, but the letters on the screen started to blur together.
Footsteps sounded from behind me and I heard someone call my name. The familiar voice sounded far-off so I moved to turn around to see who it was, but dark spots danced in front of my vision.
Panic lit the voice when whoever it was said my name again, much closer this time. The vision of a blurred face appeared in front of me just as strong arms wrapped around my body.
I heard them ask me something, but couldn’t quite make out what they were asking me. Throughout the brain fog, I’d finally realized my mistake, but before I could tell whoever it was helping me that my blood sugar was incredibly low, my head slumped against their chest before the darkness that had danced at the corner of my vision pulled me under.