Chapter 15
Well, this was going well. Crozier and Intern Squires were gaping at them. They were part of the overnight coverage team and appeared to have come to the office to drop off Squires’ resident workbook.
“Clarissa! Um. Dr. Morgan…” Crozier had turned so pale, Roan might have needed to call the code team with the way his blood pressure must have fallen. “Wow. Whoa.”
Roan linked his hand with Clarissa’s. This spelled the end of their low profile. The news was going to spread through the ORs like wildfire. Probably could have put out an announcement over the PA system.
“Hey, Drew. Arnie. Up all night?” Clarissa beamed, remembering Squires’ first name better than Roan had.
“Yeah, emergency appendectomy on a lady firefighter.” Squires’ eyes were threatening to fall out of their sockets. “It is... was a surprise.”
“We were going to grab coffee at the cart downstairs.” Clarissa nonchalantly walked toward the door that would lead to the elevators, proving her familiarity with the office.
“So will we,” Crozier chimed in, despite his path walking him and Squires right by the coffee maker.
Fabulous. This elevator ride was going to be a ton a fun.
After they piled in, Clarissa released Roan’s hand to ask Squires about the workbook, since she’d spearheaded improving them during her anesthesia rotation.
This gave Crozier an opportunity to whisper. “Does he know?”
Roan shook his head slightly, well aware the ‘he’ in question was Tank. He didn’t like the way Crozier was staring at Clarissa’s animated discussion with Squires. “Not yet.”
“How long?” Drew’s gaze never left Clarissa.
“We met at mixer.” Roan added the last part to leave no question to Crozier that Clarissa had been his for almost a year. He had no desire to explain the situation further with a subordinate.
“The June mixer? Wow.” Crozier kept staring. “Hooked up there? Wow.”
“Not a hookup.” Roan’s deathly quiet words made the younger attending wince and drop his gaze.
“Sorry, Captain.” Crozier realized the faux pas of his suggestion about the nature of his chief’s relationship. “When she rotated, were you together?”
“Filed the paperwork in February.” Roan stuck with the truth, letting Crozier assume the two of them had been chastely interacting until she left anesthesia.
When they arrived on the first floor, Roan was surprised by the sheer number of physicians gathered in one place for something as pedestrian as coffee. He was one hundred percent certain every single department had their own fully functional coffee machine.
Clarissa answered the question he hadn’t asked, “This is the only time the post and pre calls see each other outside of sign-out.”
This vastly decreased the likelihood his close proximity to Clarissa would get him a second glance.
Then again, he might have been wrong about what got a second glance.
A group of surgeons passed by them, as did the cardiologist, Dr. Angela Perkins.
A few heads swiveled in her direction because, Roan noted with clinical detachment, she had changed her wardrobe and darkened her hair—clothing much more flattering than the scrubs she usually wore.
Willow, a small blonde figure in scrubs, worked her way through the throng to Clarissa’s side, also watching Perkins’s retreating form. “I can’t believe it. The ER residents won’t shut up about it. How was I the fiftieth to know?”
The two women put their heads together as Willow launched into what Roan assumed was a soliloquy about her actual boyfriend, an ER resident. Roan barely listened, wishing he hadn’t had to trade his limited Clarissa time for the coffee cart and socializing with others, especially his own department.
Why was Crozier standing at rapt attention for this relationship drama?
By the time they reached the front of the line, Roan was prepared to pay for as many coffees as it took to flee the scene. Unfortunately, that was when someone started calling out for Willow.
“Willow, there you are.” The silver-haired ER resident, Zac Newport, shoved his way to the front. His ears must have been burning.
Clarissa acted as a wall to prevent his approach to her roommate. “She isn’t interested in talking.”
“Or texting. Or emailing. Very mature,” Newport said. He too was dressed in scrubs, which didn’t reveal whether he was pre-call, post-call, or pre-post shift in the ER.
Clarissa lifted her chin and gave him a set-down in a far too syrupy voice. “Maybe you should take it as a sign you should be groveling instead of growling at her.”
“I wanted to talk to Willow, Morgan. This isn’t your problem.”
“Which part of 'grovel' don't you get?” Clarissa used the tone one would use talking to a small child, a skill she had mastered.
Roan didn’t get to see her in action like this often, so he sat on his heels to watch the show. He wasn’t alone. Behind them, the doctors were rearranging themselves into an almost circle to watch the fireworks.
Zac rolled his eyes. “I don't have anything to apologize for.”
Willow pivoted around Clarissa to confront Newport, poking him in the chest. “Really?
Maybe the next time you hit on the cardiology fellow who's going through a Pretty Woman phase, you should do it in PRIVATE. Not in front of all your little gossipy ER buddies or the crosscovering residents from every specialty in the hospital.”
“It was nothing. I was teasing my intern,” Newport protested.
“Yeah, I'm an intern, and I don't ask other doctors to go to dinner with me. Or get shamed by my attending Doyle, who can definitely identify flirting,” Willow barked back. “You thought you'd get away with it? The grapevine at MetroGen spreads faster than syphilis in the psych ward.”
Not that he cared much about Willow and Newport’s situationship, Roan had to concede she had a great point about the grapevine, while he couldn’t comment on the syphilis situation.
“Are we playing this game? I heard plenty about you and anesthesia,” Zac accused her right back.
Oh, maybe Roan needed to get involved now. While Tank’s latest messages confirmed he was still off bounty hunting in Oregon and Clarissa had been putting him off, they might have underestimated his ability to reach across the country and meddle.
Roan opened his mouth to interject, but Newport wasn’t done. “You went to four basketball games with HIM!” Newport waved a hand at... Drew Crozier.
The assembled group of doctors swiveled their heads to a flushing Drew.
That turned things on its head, and Roan decided he’d give Drew the benefit of the doubt about Clarissa. It was possible most of Drew’s interest in Clarissa was because of her roommate.
“It's not what you think,” Crozier ventured. “It was a city-wide basketball tournament.”
“You weren't sniffing around my girl?” Newport accused, redirecting his anger.
“You don't even like basketball! You’re all about hockey. I hate skating. Not that you ever asked!” Willow retorted.
“Drew at least knows how to hold an intellectual conversation. Instead of being distracted by the newest bright shiny object, be it a procedure, this week’s meme, or a pretty cardiologist’s latest makeover. ”
“Don’t you dare try to analyze me.” Newport was having none of it.
“I don’t need to. Anyone can tell that you’re an ADHD man-child who needs to get over his daddy issues and grow up,” Willow was almost shrieking.
“Who’s immature? You spent hours with this guy, and I flirted for all of ten seconds with a gorgeous woman—who happened to turn me down flat. Then you refuse to speak to me in private. Instead, you decide to it’s totally proportional to go nuclear on me in public,” Newport spat out the last part.
Before he could speak further, Drew shouted him down, “You came to her. You made it public. Now leave.”
The ER resident finally read the room and the number of attendings listening in, including Roan He spun on his heel and stalked off in the direction of the emergency room.
Roan pulled out his credit card. “I think we’re going to need a couple of coffees. Five.”
“Actually, I’m paying. Willow, you can have anything you want. Including me.” Drew dropped a fifty on the counter. He was staring at Willow in an unmistakable way. “I don’t like skiing either. I like dogs, basketball, and talking with you.”
The psychiatry intern opened her mouth, closed it, opened her mouth again, and a volunteer in the crowd behind them howled, “Just say yes!”
Willow looked around, and Clarissa nodded at her encouragingly. “Okay, well, yes!”
“Have her sign the paperwork! Lock that down STAT.” Another voice in the crowd was full of helpful advice. The whole group was well aware after a display like this, the inter-department relationship declaration forms were mandatory.
Drew yelled back over his shoulder, “Thanks. I’m okay! We can handle it here!”
“No, you can’t!” someone else shouted. Clarissa was covering her mouth to not laugh. “You should kiss her!”
“I told you, I’ve got this!” Drew called back. “We’re taking our coffee and leaving. By ourselves.”
Roan raised his hand. “As his chief, I confirm we have this under control. Let’s go upstairs for those papers.”
It was down to the four of them because Squires abandoned them, smartly wanting to not get involved—or intending to quickly spread the word faster than syphilis.
As the two roommates walked ahead of them with linked arms, Roan took Drew aside. “I won’t require you to date her. It was kind of you to help her save face, and we both appreciate it.”
Roan left unspoken that Squires and anyone ready to gossip would pick the Drew-Willow scene over the Roan-Clarissa kiss. Or that he’d suspected Drew was into Clarissa.
Drew gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “I’m a grown man that saw an opening and went for it. She’s cute, and we had a good time at those basketball games. She likes my dog, so this could be fabulous. Don’t even suggest this could be a total disaster.”
Warding him off with a raised coffee, Roan said, “Only time will tell. Thanks for being cool about Tank, Clarissa’s brother. And the part where you won’t tell him if he hunts you down.”
“Are you kidding? He’s scary.” Drew went to try his coffee and then paused. “Why would he hunt me down?”
“Before you sign on, there’s another secret the three of us should tell you.” Roan led him to the elevator, which opened for them all to get on, then punched in the over-ride code to keep from being interrupted.
“More secrets?” Drew was mystified, and his gaze swiveled back and forth. “The three of you aren’t a thruple, right?”
“Not exactly,” Clarissa said, making Drew’s eyes bulge.
“Let me explain,” Willow took over. “Tank thinks I’m dating Roan. Which I’m not. Not thruple, no love triangle.”
“Unless Zac tries to win you back,” Clarissa pointed out, and Roan stepped behind her to put a hand over her lips. “You’ve been broken up for three minutes.”
“Not helping,” he told her, and she saucily nibbled on his hand. “Behave, Buttercup.”
Then he became aware of both Drew and Willow staring at them. He removed his hand. “What’s wrong?”
Willow spoke first. “Chief, Captain Marin. You’re smiling. A lot. Simone won’t believe it.”
“I almost don’t believe it,” Drew said. “Then again, I didn’t expect your secret relationship, you kissing her in the office, you lying to the SEAL bestie, or you fake dating my new not-quite girlfriend. You are full of hidden depths.”
Roan took Clarissa’s hand as the doors opened onto the sixth floor. They passed back into the anesthesia admin offices, still empty at this hour. “Yes, this morning is full of surprises. I have one more for you.”
He beckoned everyone into his office and handed Drew a familiar packet of papers from his desk. “This is the inter-department dating form. We’ll be leaving the two of you alone to figure it out.”
Clarissa gave Willow a gentle push toward Drew. “You have fifteen minutes till morning sign-out.”
“Better work fast, Crozier. That’s an order.” Roan took Clarissa out with him, closing the door firmly behind him. He sat down in his secretary Sandra’s empty chair and situated Clarissa on his lap.
Her eyes were dancing. “I’m in shock. What do you think they’re going to do in there?”
“I expect Crozier will make a very strong argument on the merits of immediately rebounding with him.”
“What kind of strong argument is there when this dumping came out of left field, as did the dating proposition?” Clarissa craned her head toward the door.
“If he’s smart, this one.” Roan turned her to kiss her full on the mouth. He kept his hands limited to her arms, lest they get a new visitor. Still, even under relative control, they were panting when they parted.
“Excellent argument.” She went in for another kiss, and very little was said for the next several minutes.
The sound of the office door opening ended their makeout session. Drew strode confidently forward and plopped the signed form in front of Roan. “Figured it out.”
Glancing over at Willow, whose hair was now just as mussed as Clarissa’s, Roan commented, “I see.”
It appeared Drew had quite effectively sold his value to Willow in the exact way Roan had suspected he would. As would any straight male who needed to convince a possible girlfriend to flip to girlfriend. A solid declaration of his feelings followed by an appropriate application of kisses.
Clarissa stood up, retying her scrub cap from her recent application of kisses, and joined Willow. “Off we go to sign-out. See you later.”
Willow waved, slightly dazed. “Yeah. Later.”
Drew watched them go, grinning. “Well, I’ve got to check on the post-op appy before I head home.”
Roan cleared his throat and gave him a warning. “Hold off.”
“What?” Drew turned back, sounding a little annoyed. “Are you going to reprimand me for convincing her to sign the forms? What did you expect me to do?”
“I expect you’d like to know your white coat is inside out.” Roan wagged his finger at the offending object. “May want to fix it.”
“Oh.” Drew was red and took off his white coat. “I can explain—”
“Not here.” Roan cut him off, before adding, “Maybe over a beer. Or at the love triangle gym with me and Casserty.”
“There’s a love triangle gym? Where? When?” Drew got his arm tangled in the coat.
“Second floor by IR. I’ll tell you on the way to your post op.” Roan helped him get the coat back on. “Someone’s gotta teach you the ropes. I guess it’ll be me.”
Clarissa had been right—grumpy anesthesia chiefs could turn nice given the right motivation.
* * *
More to come!