Chapter 2 Deborah #2
“Anyway, she actually does really seem to hate me, and there’s a lot I can’t stand about her, and I don’t know what to do with any of it,” Deb confessed in a rush.
“I don’t know if I should hit on her and try to fuck it out of my system, or if there’s a way to like, get rid of the attraction.
I wondered if you had any helpful advice there. ”
“Not a single word of it,” Sasha replied cheerfully. “Sorry. I’ve only ever really been into one person, and that’s Ruby, and I never hated her.”
Deb fell back against the padded purple vinyl booth again. “Right.”
Sasha tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You know, though, I do know someone who’s had experience with that kind of thing. Enemies to lovers or whatever it is.”
“Not lovers,” Deb protested. But Sasha just waved a dismissive hand.
“You know what I mean. That hate attraction. Esme’s had it, that’s how she met her wife, Nora.
” Now Sasha’s eyes were all but twinkling, she seemed so happy to have possibly found a way to help.
“Man, they really butted heads hard when they met. Like, fighting right in here in front of everyone, top of their lungs butting heads.” The light went out of her eyes then, and she looked down.
“Actually, it was so bad between them, that it made us fight, Esme and me. When I caught them together upstairs in the old Lounge. That was a whole thing.”
This was intriguing new information to Deb, who had only been coming to the Lounge for five years and was unfamiliar with the complexities of its lore. “Oh, wow.”
“Yeah… not a great moment for any of us.” Sasha kept her head down for another moment, then looked up and shook the bad old memories off.
“Anyway, you want to talk to Esme?” she offered.
“She’s here tonight, holed up in her office doing payroll.
I bet she’d love a break to come out, hear some of the music, and chat with you.
It’s been long enough that she finds a whole lot of that stuff with Nora funny now. I’m sure she’s got some good advice.”
Deb considered it briefly and discarded it. “No, thanks. I don’t really know Esme well enough for that, I think.” She picked up her not-beer again and drained it. “I really appreciate you listening and trying to help, though.”
“No problem. But hey, Deb, I need to get back to my kitchen.” Sasha slid out of the booth and picked up the empty beer glass. “You want another one of these non-alcoholic beers?”
She weighed responsibility with her deep need to obliterate her interest in Hayley Milton and sighed. “No, Sash, would you be so kind as to get me a Jack and a beer, and is it okay if I park my ride out in the back lot tonight for safety?”
Sasha nodded, understanding. “Hand me your keys and I’ll get it back there myself. I’ll send Cam over from the bar with your drink, and as a treat, some fresh fries and a slice of my caramel pretzel cheesecake. Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” Deb replied, fishing out her credit card to give Cam so she could open a proper tab and get absolutely hammered.
“Is that a banana bag?” Paige asked from the doorway of Deb’s office, eyes wide.
Deb looked up from her desk, where she was busily inserting an IV line into the vein near the crook of her left elbow.
She saw no point in lying. “Yes,” she said tersely, gritting her teeth against the sting of the needle.
Carefully, she taped the needle down, then reached up to the bag on the pole behind her chair to open the flow valve.
The vitamins and electrolytes began their slow creep down the IV tube and into her veins, where she hoped they and the acetaminophen she’d taken earlier would mingle together and finally banish the absolutely lethal hangover she’d awoken with. “I don’t feel so great.”
“A bunch of Boilermakers will do that to you.” Paige pushed herself off of the door frame and sidled into small room, closing the door behind her. “Thanks for all those 1:30 AM texts, by the way, that didn’t interrupt my beauty sleep at all.”
Deb grimaced. “I forgot about those. Sorry.”
“Not a big deal, really. I just like giving you hell when you leave the door open for it.” Paige’s grin was cocky but fond as she plopped down in one of the chairs on the other side of Deb’s desk and propped her sneakered feet up by the Chief of Emergency Medicine deskplate.
She was one of the few doctors at Oakridge who could get away with being so cavalier with the Chief; they’d been in the same resident class at another California hospital years ago.
“The opportunities are so rare since you became Chief. You’re getting soft. ”
“Perish the thought,” Deb replied dryly.
“Not me having to be responsible.” She toyed with the thick, slightly frizzy rope of braided hair that fell over her shoulder.
Her head had hurt too much this morning to even think about bundling her dark hair into a high pony or a tight bun.
She’d barely survived the sensory nightmare of shower droplets on her skin.
“Hey, listen, I’m always happy for a chat, but you don’t usually hunt me down in my office. Something up?”
“Yes.” Paige sat up and brought her feet down off of the desk, to Deb’s relief.
Spontaneous and a bit reckless she might be, but her mother had raised her right.
Paige sometimes came off as though she’d grown up in a zoo.
“So, I had a patient come into the ED today complaining of cardiac pain. We checked; he was about two seconds away from a thoracic aortic aneurysm rupture. Obviously, Doctor Foster whipped him into an OR real damn quick and got to work, but it didn’t go well.
The guy’s health was just dire, a lot of weak spots all over…
honestly, it’s amazing he’s made it this far in life.
That aorta had the structural integrity of a slice of Swiss cheese. ”
“Oh, damn.” Deb sat back in her chair and let out a low whistle. “Outcome?”
“Success, incredibly. I think this one could be the miracle of Laura’s career.” Paige grinned, briefly, and then it faded into sober seriousness. “That said, obviously the guy is going to need some pretty close extended care.”
Deb didn’t understand. “Well, yeah. Send him over to ICU.”
Paige arched one dark eyebrow. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page after the stunt you pulled with my compartment syndrome patient yesterday.”
The reminder made Deb squirm in her chair. “Damn it, Paige.”
“You put all of us in the ED in a really bad spot with Hayley Milton, Chief.” Paige leaned forward, elbows on her knees.
“Now, we’ve smoothed things over pretty well, and she’s always going to put patients first over a petty grudge, for which we can all be thankful.
” Her green eyes narrowed. “That said, she wants a full and formal transfer of this patient to the ICU, signed off on by you. And for my part…” One side of Paige’s mouth turned up in a crooked grin.
“I would really, really appreciate it if you’d go over there and sincerely apologize, Deb. ”
Deb threw her hands in the air, then winced as the needle in her left arm shifted around with the movement. Carefully, she lowered her hands back down and checked to make sure she hadn’t dislodged it entirely. She slid her gaze to meet Paige’s. “Is that really necessary?”
“I could frog-march you over there myself if you like,” Paige said coolly.
“Oh, ho ho,” Deb chortled darkly. “I’d like to see you try.”
Paige said nothing, simply looked pointedly at the needle in Deb’s arm.
“Dirty pool, Paige,” Deb said.
“Whatever gets the job done. Will you apologize to her, Chief?”
Deb sighed. “Yes. As soon as this banana bag is finished. I’m not hauling a hangover remedy around with me on this particular errand.”
“I can accept that.” Paige got to her feet and wandered over to the door. She opened it and then glanced back over her shoulder. “I will be keeping an eye out for you. You might take that needle out, but I can just drag you by that braid there.”
She whisked out the door before Deb could say anything else. Deb sighed again and rubbed her temples. A new and different headache was starting to throb in her temples.
Deb had always been a rollercoaster riding, motorcycle loving, bungee-jumping adrenaline junkie. It was part of why she’d been drawn to emergency medicine as a specialty. The chaos of a busy ED was where she thrived.
That said, she always appreciated the quiet, calm atmosphere of intensive care. The lights weren’t quite as harsh, everyone spoke in pleasant tones, and the focus was on recovery rather than triage. It was almost peaceful.
Any peace Deb was feeling at the moment, however, vanished when she spotted Hayley Milton at the ICU desk.
Hayley was concentrating deeply on the tablet in front of her, tapping the head of a stylus against her full, rosy-pink bottom lip.
Her honey-blonde hair was coiled atop her head into a tight, neat bun, and she had a pair of blue-rimmed reading glasses propped up on her head in front of the bun.
She looked tired. But still so, so pretty. Deb admired the view while she could. Once Hayley realized she was there, she’d start talking, and that would simply ruin everything because inevitably, they were going to get into a spat.
You’re here to apologize, she reminded herself, and immediately had to stop her back molars from grinding together.
She was not someone for whom apologies came easily.
Especially not when the person she was apologizing to was prissy, pretty, infuriating Hayley Milton.
Deb heaved a sigh all the way up from her toes.
That got Hayley’s attention. She looked up with a lovely bright smile that immediately faded when she realized who was in her ICU. “Doctor Morales,” she said, her voice frosty. “What brings you to Intensive Care?”
Deb pressed her lips tight together against the disappointment she felt at Hayley being so very displeased to see her.
You don’t like her, she reminded herself.
No need to be disappointed. Just get this over with.
“Nurse Milton,” she began, bracing herself.
“I came to discuss a patient transfer with you. I understand you want my personal, direct sign off.”
“The near-aortic dissection patient, yes.” Hayley’s blue eyes were ice chips, cold and flinty.
“I don’t want there to be any kind of misunderstanding or miscommunication here.
” She tapped at the tablet and turned it towards Deb, handing the stylus that had touched her lip over with it. “Please sign it.”
Deb took the stylus, annoyed that she was having to fight the urge to tap her own bottom lip with it, just where a faint smear of Hayley’s pale pink lip balm still gleamed on the white plastic.
She swallowed hard and scribbled her name on the digital line and handed the stylus back before she could be tempted to pocket it. “There you go.”
“Thank you.” Hayley took the tablet and stylus back and set them down next to her computer keyboard. Then she sat down and started to work on the computer, typing assiduously away, once again laser-focused.
Deb’s mouth was dry, and she wished she’d brought her water bottle with her.
Sticking her hands into her lab coat pockets, she let her fingers fiddle with the little things she left in there, old pens, small sheets of puffy star stickers she often gave to child patients, an ancient cough drop or two.
She sifted them through her fingers over and over, trying to talk herself into finishing this errand and escape back to her office.
I’m sorry. She just couldn’t open her mouth and get the words out.
The rustling of the objects in her pockets caught Hayley’s attention and she looked up from whatever she was working on. “Doctor Morales? Did you need something else?”
Pulling her hands out, Deb rubbed her now sweaty palms down her thighs. Say it say it say it! “I…”
“I really need to get this schedule finalized, so if there is something, I’d prefer we just get it over with now so you can be on your way.
” Hayley’s smile was polite as she folded her hands down into her lap, but her intent was crystal clear.
She sat and kept her steady blue gaze on Deb, saying nothing more.
As it had when she was younger and her mother had effectively used the silent treatment to get rebellious Deb to confess to all manner of sins, Hayley’s application of the tactic worked far better than her own failed efforts at trying to make herself say the damn words.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, feeling her face flush hot.
Hayley’s mouth turned up on one side in a smug little smile, and the ice of her blue eyes brightened with the infuriating light of satisfaction. “Oh? For what, exactly?”
Deb wrestled with the wild conflict that tiny smile ignited within her. She wanted to lunge over the desk and grab Hayley by the front of her scrub top and haul her in for a filthy, wet, hot as hell kiss.
Aaaaaand she also wanted to strangle the ICU charge nurse.
Though she hated to show Hayley in any way that the woman had gotten to her, Deb had to close her eyes and take a deep breath.
She was trying to be professional, and anyway, this was really more of a favor for Paige and the emergency department team.
It wasn’t really about her on a personal level at all.
With effort, she opened her eyes again and fixed a small smile on her face.
“I apologize for the mix-up and miscommunication in the ED yesterday. It wasn’t my best moment, and I feel terrible that patients were inconvenienced in the process.
I hope our departments can continue to work together smoothly. ”
Hayley had returned her attention to her work on the computer. “That shouldn’t be a problem, Doctor Morales. As long as you keep your ego in check and let your team and my team get our work done, everything should be quite smooth sailing.”
Deb was frozen with fury in the blink of an eye at Hayley’s calm yet snide tone, and her fingers curled into fists, her bitten down nails biting into her palms. Her blood pressure was definitely going up, and she was going to have to get out of here expeditiously.
“Great,” she gritted out, spinning on her heel and stalking out of the ICU as calmly as she could manage.
The worst part was that as angry as she was, as riled up as Hayley could get her… goddamn it, Deb still wanted her. Possibly even more in this moment. Thoroughly wound up, there was only one thing she could do. She pulled out her phone and fired off a text to Rose. On-call 3, five minutes.
She already knew that a solid fuck wasn’t going to get Hayley out of her system, but it couldn’t hurt to try.