Chapter 16 #2
But it wasn’t my friends.
It was a patient. An elderly woman with a cane and a very determined expression. “Are you Dr. Wesley?” she demanded.
“I—yes?”
“Good. I need you to look at my knee. It’s been clicking.”
“Clicking.”
“Yes, very concerning. I think it might be arthritis. Or cancer. Probably cancer.”
“Ma’am—”
“I’ve been waiting three weeks for this appointment. Three weeks. I’m not leaving until someone looks at my knee.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Looked at Vivian. She was grinning. Grinning.
“Exam room two,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll get you set up.”
The woman nodded and shuffled past me, muttering about the state of healthcare in America as Vivian followed, pausing just long enough to pat my shoulder. “Good luck,” she said.
“Vivian—”
“You’ve got this.”
“I don’t.”
“Red tabs first,” she said. “Then yellow. Then green. And try not to kill anyone.”
“That’s what Julien said.”
“He’s a smart man.” And then she disappeared down the hallway, leaving me standing alone in the lobby with a stack of patient files and the growing realization that I was completely, utterly screwed.
This is fine. Everything is fine. I’m a doctor. I can handle this. I took a breath. Looked down at the files. Pulled the first red tab. Mrs. Johnson. Follow-up post-op. Possible infection. Great. Fantastic. Nothing I can’t handle.
I was going to kill Julien. Slowly. Painfully. With a rusty scalpel.
I made it exactly four steps toward the exam rooms when the door burst open again.
I turned around, expecting to see another patient shuffling through the entrance.
Instead, Fitz stumbled through the door, looking utterly dejected, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
Followed closely by Gabriel, his head hung low.
Then Nathan, dragging his feet. And finally, Hayden, bringing up the rear.
All four of them shuffled back into the lobby like condemned men walking toward the gallows, their earlier bravado completely evaporated.
I stared at the sorry parade before me, completely bewildered. “What?”
“Don’t,” Fitz muttered, refusing to meet my eyes.
“I’m just—”
“Don’t,” he repeated, more forcefully this time.
“But—”
“She caught us,” Gabriel said miserably, finally looking up at me with the expression of a puppy who’d been caught chewing shoes.
“Who caught you?” I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew the answer.
And then Winnie appeared in the doorway.
She walked through the door behind them with measured, deliberate steps, her arms crossed firmly over her chest, her expression radiating the kind of terrifying calm that made grown men weep and confess to crimes they didn’t commit.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
“Gentlemen,” she said, her voice dangerously sweet, like honey laced with arsenic.
“Would you like to explain to me why you were attempting to leave during a shift?”
Silence. Complete, absolute silence.
“No?” Winnie continued, her voice rising with each word.
“Then allow me to enlighten you. You attempted to leave early because you’re all cowards who would rather flee than face a single day of actual responsibility.
You’d rather run away with your tails between your legs than sit here and do the work that needs to be done. ”
“Winnie—” Fitz started, holding up a hand in protest.
“Dr. Lovejoy,” Winnie interrupted sharply, cutting him off before he could get another word out.
Her eyes narrowed as she fixed her gaze directly on him.
“You told me you had to pick up your daughter from school. A family emergency, you said. But here’s the thing: You don’t have a daughter. You don’t even have a goldfish.”
Fitz shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Well, I’m working on it,” he mumbled defensively.
“Dr. Lyon. You claimed you had a family emergency. Your wife texted me five minutes ago asking if I could make sure you made it home for lunch.”
Gabriel winced.
“Dr. Carter. You said you had an appointment with a reptile specialist.”
“Ester’s been looking—”
“Ester is an iguana! Iguanas are supposed to look scaly.”
Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it, wisely saying nothing.
“And Dr. Walker,” Winnie said, turning to Hayden. “You claimed you were ill.”
“I am ill.”
“You’re forty-eight years old and in perfect health. I’ve seen your last physical. Your cholesterol is better than mine.”
Hayden looked at the floor.
Winnie turned to me. “Dr. Wesley,” she said. “Dr. Darcy emailed me this morning with the change in schedule and the updated patient files that need to be taken care of. I apologize for not being here before he left, but rest assured, I will ensure those idiots stick around and do their jobs.”
“Winnie—” Fitz tried again.
“And if any of you attempt to leave early,” Winnie continued, “I will personally make sure the next week is the most grueling week of your lives. You think the first year of med school was tough? Try me. And you, Dr. Fitzpatrick Lovejoy, just remember one thing. Julien isn’t here to save you.”
The threat hung in the air.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody even breathed.
“Understood?” Winnie asked.
“Yes, Winifred,” Fitz muttered.
“Yes, ma’am,” Gabriel echoed.
“Understood,” Nathan said.
“Crystal clear,” Hayden added.
“Excellent,” Winnie said, her tone sharp and final.
“Now get to work.” She turned on her heel and walked briskly toward her desk, her shoes clicking against the polished floor with each purposeful step, leaving the four of them standing there in stunned silence, looking like scolded children who had just been caught red-handed stealing cookies from the kitchen jar.
I stared after her retreating figure, my mouth hanging open slightly.
Then I looked at Vivian, who had reappeared from the hallway like a ghost materializing out of thin air.
She was grinning from ear to ear, clearly delighted by the spectacle she’d just witnessed.
Of course, she’s grinning. She probably lives for moments like this.
“Well,” I said slowly, trying to find the right words to capture what had just happened. “That was—”
“Terrifying?” Fitz supplied, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Humiliating?” Gabriel added, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.
“Emasculating?” Nathan suggested, looking like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
“All of the above,” Hayden muttered darkly, crossing his arms over his chest in what appeared to be a defensive posture.
I looked at Winnie, who was now seated at her desk, typing away as if nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just single-handedly dragged four grown men back into the clinic and threatened their careers. She runs this place. Not Julien. Not me. Winnie.
And we were all—every single one of us—absolutely terrified of her.
“Right,” I said, looking down at the patient files. “Mrs. Johnson. Exam room two. Let’s do this.”
“That’s the spirit,” Fitz said weakly.
“We’re all going to die,” Nathan muttered.
“Probably,” Hayden agreed.
I walked toward the exam rooms, the files clutched in my hands, Vivian’s laughter echoing behind me.
Just another day at Clinically Approved.
God help us all.