Chapter 2
ANNA
Anna Monroe sat curled up in her favorite chair in her office at Oakridge Hospital, a luxuriously overstuffed brown velvet affair she’d found for half-off at a Los Angeles consignment shop.
In her lap was a slender hospital personnel folder, one with the green tab that identified the employee it belonged to as a member of the surgical staff, and the red tab that denoted them as cardiothoracic.
“Victoria Ellis,” she read aloud, flipping the folder open.
“Guildford, Surrey, United Kingdom. Forty-three years of age. Education at Cambridge, then University of London. Fifteen years with Oakridge’s cardiothoracic surgery department.
” She lifted the page. “Acute distress episode reported following patient family encounter. Further distress same day in operating theater.”
It sounded like Dr. Victoria Ellis had had herself quite a terrible Monday, Anna observed. And that she did not at all want to talk about it, judging by the fact that the appointment Anna had made had been canceled nearly immediately.
Unfortunately for Dr. Ellis, the appointment was being mandated by Elaine Martin, the head of Cardio.
So when Anna had sent her a quick email about the cancellation notice she had received, she had gotten an immediate telephone call back.
“Please keep the appointment time open,” Dr. Martin had instructed calmly.
“I’ll be chatting with Dr. Ellis later this evening, and we’ll need the time slot. ”
Anna did not know much about Elaine Martin, but she did know that despite her sweet, grandmotherly appearance, even Steve Sundstrom, the Chief of Surgery for the whole hospital, did not dare cross her.
Anna kept the appointment marked as OPEN in her digital calendar and waited for further word.
It had come this morning at 7 AM, just as she had arrived in her office for the day.
Please confirm the evaluation appointment again for Dr. Ellis, the email said. She will see you at 9 AM.
It was 8:45 now. Not long until Anna met the surgeon who had had such a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
She was curious. There were too many people on staff at Oakridge for her to know them all, but even she had heard about Victoria Ellis, Cardio Savant and Ice Queen Extraordinaire.
The woman’s poise under pressure was legendary.
For her to have had some kind of visibly upsetting break that necessitated therapy indicated, to Anna, that there were some deep-seated and long unaddressed issues under the reportedly still surface.
Not that she should be diagnosing before even meeting the woman.
Setting the folder aside, Anna got to her feet and went to check the coffee and tea station in the corner of her office.
She liked to keep a fairly comprehensive selection there to accommodate any taste—green tea, black tea, even some loose oolong.
The tiny fridge had fresh containers of milk, cream, creamer, half-and-half, oat milk, soy milk, and almond milk.
Her jumbled variety of thrifted mugs was clean and hung neatly from a pegboard mounted over the table.
And on her way to the office, she’d stopped to pick up some of her favorite chocolate chip cookies, fresh baked that morning, from a bakery near her house that she loved.
Hopefully that would be enough to break the ice with even the frostiest of physicians.
Anna glanced in the large gilt-framed mirror on the wall and tugged on her low auburn ponytail, tightening the slipping ponytail holder until it was snug at the nape of her neck.
She looked friendly and approachable, she thought.
Eyes bright, smile gentle, no artifice. Just an air about her that, she hoped, said that she was here to help.
“Dr. Ellis is here,” came the cool voice of the clinic receptionist, Kathleen, from the intercom speaker in the corner.
Anna pressed the reply button. “Coming.” With one last glance in the mirror, she put on a bright smile and smoothed down the front of her rusty orange cashmere v-neck. Then she set off for the reception area, her long floral skirt swirling around her calves.
She saw immediately upon entering reception that she was going to have her work cut out for her.
The tall, icy blonde standing by the door had hostility in her blue eyes and all of her walls firmly up.
Unwillingness fairly crackled off of her, a statement as loud as if she’d literally shouted it.
Nothing about her said she wanted to be here or that she would cooperate.
Even the tea and coffee station wouldn’t be any sort of icebreaker, Anna saw. Dr. Ellis’ arms were crossed over her chest, and one graceful hand held a slender white metal flask, presumably full of something the surgeon had made at home. Definitely going to have my hands full, Anna thought.
Dr. Ellis cleared her throat and raised one delicate blonde eyebrow. “Were we going to get this little show on the road, or am I merely a sideshow for you to gawk at today?”
Anna blinked. Knowing that Dr. Ellis was British hadn’t prepared her for the smooth, rich-girl sounding accent that delivered the withering statement. It threw her off her stride. “Ah, please, Dr. Ellis, come with me.”
“Whatever gets this over with faster,” Dr. Ellis sighed.
The slender heels of her expensive-looking leather pumps clicked on the tiled floor of the clinic as she accompanied Anna to her office.
Everything about her was expensive-looking, really, from the sleek drinking flask to her shoes to the black skirt she was wearing, so ferociously tailored that it fit her like a second skin.
Her top was a crisp white cotton button down, the top two buttons open at the throat, and she carried a Burberry trench slung over her arm.
Anna had only seen women like this on television, and while she wasn’t in the habit of feeling insecure around powerful women, she did feel a certain sense of unease, like she’d just been thrown into a chess game when all she’d even known was checkers.
She would have to tread very carefully with this one, she knew. Victoria Ellis would not be easily drawn out.
They arrived at her office, and Victoria swept in, dropping her Burberry coat and a deceptively simple looking leather tote Anna couldn’t identify—but was sure would cost far more than she had ever paid in monthly rent anywhere—carelessly on the floor by the plush green corduroy couch, another consignment shop find for Anna.
She wondered how the glacial, designer-wrapped surgeon would react to know how many of the items in this room were second-hand.
Would she deign to put her pert little bottom on the sofa cushions?
Anna had very carefully cleaned all of her thrifted finds with her own two hands, but she suspected Victoria would turn her nose up all the same.
Anna sat down in her brown velvet chair and observed Victoria as the surgeon prowled around the office, inspecting everything closely. She ran one elegant hand through the tea selection. “Rubbish,” she sniffed.
“If you have a preference, I can add it to the collection for you,” Anna offered.
“You couldn’t get it here.” Chin up, Victoria continued her inspection. She glanced back at Anna and waved her drink flask. “And I’ve brought my own, at any rate.”
“Right.” Anna picked up her notebook and pen, as well as the personnel file. “Would you like to take a seat? We can get started.”
That elegant hand fluttered dismissively. “I’m fine.”
Anna quietly took a deep breath in through her nose.
She did not want this imperious woman to see that she was starting to annoy her.
Anna was no stranger to the often irritating superiority complex that surgeons nearly always seemed to possess.
She’d counseled enough of them in her career.
But Victoria? She was on a whole new level from any of the others.
Anna opened the file again and glanced at the lengthy list of accomplishments and accolades there.
Perhaps the attitude was partially justified…
but only partially. Anna offered her warmest, friendliest smile, but put a hint of steel in her voice. “Dr. Ellis. Please have a seat.”
“Oh, very well.” Victoria sighed, and sat down gingerly on the edge of the sofa, hands folded in her lap.
Her eyes, when they rested on Anna, were a lovely, vibrant blue, and as chilly as any glacier in Alaska.
Anna had to admit, she was an absolutely stunning woman.
Tall, slender, with a dancer’s poise, those wide blue eyes and her dark golden blonde hair pulled back into a large bundle at the nape of her neck.
Her eyebrows were perfectly groomed into slender arches, her makeup was minimal but carefully done, and her skin was literally flawless.
Honestly, she looked like she’d stepped right out of a magazine, not like she was ready to perform complex surgical procedures.
Against her will and her better judgment, Anna felt drawn to this perfect, Arctic statue of a woman.
“You do like to stare, don’t you?” Victoria observed, tilting her head to one side. “Is this part of your evaluation process?”
The words almost didn’t sound rude with that accent. Anna cleared her throat and sat up straighter. “Perhaps it is,” she stalled, trying to shake off the odd pull she was feeling. “I’m sorry, Dr. Ellis. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Dr. Anna Monroe.”
“Yes. I gathered.” The response was delivered shortly, with an unblinking gaze.