Chapter 9

Sam

Shiny plastic and metal chairs filled conference room C, and I was currently planning to burn them all to the ground. They creaked. Every one of them. Fuck conference room C.

Cooper shifted beside me, tugging his sleeve to check his watch again. As he moved, the metal frame of his chair squealed, and I decided I’d burn his first. I’d allow him to vacate it before I started, of course. Considering how he was crossing and re-crossing his legs, he might even help me with the lighter fluid.

We weren’t the only ones agitated. Groans sounded at Caplan’s announcement that there were “Just a few more things before we close out.”

Almost all of us—nearly thirty attending cardiac surgeons at Cedar—squeezed into the space. I didn’t have any issues with conference room C, aside from the shrieking chairs. Like the rest of the hospital, it was clean and modern: Gray and white striped carpet, whiteboards on the walls. Big projector screen that lowered with a press of a button. The room itself was fine.

It was the quarterly department meetings, held in conference room fucking C, that made me want to grab a lighter. The agendas usually consisted of arduous hashing and rehashing of new quality standards initiatives, HR programs, and patient outcomes metrics. Caplan claimed they were an integral component of our surgical team morale. Everyone else thought they were fucking boring.

“If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to go crazy. You going to the thing tonight?” Cooper whispered.

I nodded, keeping my eyes on Caplan, as if the force of my attention could hurry things along.

“Alright, seriously, give me five more minutes, people. We’ll be sipping watered down drinks in no time.”

The Eastern chapter of the Regional Cardiologists Association had commandeered a hotel ballroom a few miles away to kick off their annual conference. Most of us had the night off since Cedar wanted a good showing when one of the biggest trade associations came through our hometown. Especially when our favorite fellow’s mother was the keynote speaker.

That was possibly another reason I was itching to get the hell out of this room. Lainey and I had gone our separate ways after our coffee…date? No, not date. Meeting?

Whatever it was, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And since I specifically avoided consulting Lainey’s on-call rotation when I made my schedule every month, we’d been like ships in the night all week. I’d had rounds with her once, yesterday, before she’d rushed off to surgery. I was stuck waiting for tonight, when I knew for a fact we’d be in the same room.

Pathetic. Maybe that was pissing me off, too. I didn’t know what the hell was going on with us. Not that there was even an “us.” We couldn’t date. And Lainey didn’t date people from work, anyway. She’d told Jones many times, and I wouldn’t push that boundary. I respected her too much for that. I kept coming back to…friends. Friendly colleagues. So, we’d keep working together. And maybe grab coffee after a workout every once in a while. And that would be great. Better than what we’d had before, which was a politely cordial working relationship.

Great.

“We’re sad to say goodbye to Dr. Randall, whose last day was Tuesday. We wish him the best.”

The room stirred, this time in interest instead of irritation. Cooper leaned over to me. “You know about Randall?”

I shook my head. I’d known he was a key player in that love triangle with the two anesthesiologists, but I hadn’t known about his departure. Surely there was a connection there.

“With that in mind, we’re opening up a new attending spot as soon as possible to replace him. We’ll be hiring three new permanent roles. Thankfully, the timing coincides with the graduation of our current class of fellows. Let us know your recommendations there. If we can keep the good ones in-house, we’ll do what we can to make it happen.”

“Can we just put Carmichael’s name in three times?” Everyone chuckled at the suggestion from the front of the room.

“Carmichael’s a given. Shoot me an email if you know anyone else looking for a job. Speaking of personnel changes, HR has been working with the board to enact a new policy on interpersonal relationships. There’s some new paperwork involved to disclose any romantic relationships with a colleague. I know, I know”—Caplan held his hands out, trying to placate a few grumbles around the room—“it’s just a few forms to limit liability for the hospital.”

“What constitutes a romantic relationship?” someone piped up. The director shuffled a few papers and read from one of them. “Any reciprocated romantic interest or relationship must be disclosed to HR. Following submission and processing of documentation, the department will take action to maintain the professional working environment which we pride ourselves on.”

“So, if we start something up, we won’t work with that person anymore?” Cooper asked. Caplan nodded.

“That’s the plan. Separation of church and state and all that. I think we all agree that a lovers’ spat is the last thing we need causing tension in the OR. The board is breathing down our necks too much as it is. Go to HR if you get the hots for anyone and we’ll take it from there.” He clapped, dismissing us. “Not too painful today, I hope. Go have some appetizers. Make us look good. Gold star to anyone who can get Dr. Carmichael to write a check to the department.”

Chuckles and chatter followed me into the hall as we all booked it to the physician’s lounge. I’d stuffed a tux in my locker and was considering whether to change here or at the hotel when Cooper loped up next to me.

“Well, there goes my plans with Carmichael.”

“Hmm?” His comment came at me with no context. I rifled through my bag to find a pair of nicer socks.

“The new HR bullshit. I was planning on asking her out when she finished her fellowship. Guess that’s out. She’s too valuable in the OR.”

I froze, fingers clenching the black cotton. “You and Carmichael?” Shit . They were a dynamic fucking duo around here—everyone knew Cooper and Carmichael and the mind-blowing procedures they took on.

Obviously, I’d considered before that I probably wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Lainey. It had even crossed my mind that there may be something more happening between her and Cooper, but I’d told myself again and again I was being paranoid. I’d gotten the feeling that their relationship thrived more on professional compatibility than any romantic sparks. Maybe not.

“Haven’t we all thought about it? She’s gorgeous. Talented.” He shrugged, unaware that he was causing me serious palpitations. I convinced my body to move again, pulling the garment bag from my locker. “But she knows me too well. I practically can’t operate without her.”

He grabbed his own garment bag, humming in consideration. “Maybe it’d be worth it, though. She’s one of a kind, you know?”

“Yeah.” I knew.

Cooper strolled away. I sighed. The rush of air leaving my lungs felt good, so I sucked in a breath and sighed again. So Cooper had a thing for Lainey. Apparently, we all did. I headed to the bathroom to change, trying to find equilibrium after that mindfuck of a conversation. I wasn’t the only one waiting in the wings to make a move after Lainey finished up her fellowship. It made me feel like we were all vultures circling around her.

I tugged on my suit, reminding myself that I’d known people were probably interested in her. But now I had solid proof of that. Right now, when she’d started looking at me as more than just her attending, the concept put a sick feeling in my gut. Dammit.

I fiddled with my bowtie in the mirror, trying to convince myself that it didn’t matter because Lainey didn’t date people she worked with. Even if she made an exception, she certainly wouldn’t date me . Not with Cooper on the hook. He was an outstanding surgeon. Best in our field, many might argue. Bright, well-connected, and good looking. Me? I was…quiet.

I cursed, jerking at the tie, starting over when it wouldn’t stay straight.

Right. This was fine. Great. Great .

◆◆◆

The ballroom was packed. And Lainey was short. It should have taken me much longer than it did to find her, but I apparently came pre-built with some sort of radar where she was concerned. That, and she was standing next to her mother. People flocked to the woman like moths to flame.

Their little corner of the ballroom buzzed with activity. People circled the fancy red-and-gold carpet, trying to get closer to them. Chandeliers glittered overhead, their dim light encouraging a sense of intimacy in the cavernous space. A jazz band played softly on stage across the room, where tables and chairs were set up for dinner.

Too captivated by Lainey looking like that in a dress like that, I hardly noticed anything else. I knew the general shape of her body, I’d just never seen it outlined so damn clearly before. The black fabric of her dress hugged every curve, clinging to her torso and hips before flaring out below her knees. I didn’t know much about dresses. I’m sure there were words to describe what she was wearing, but the only ones that came to mind were holy shit .

I snuck peeks while I stood in line at the bar. She smiled at something her mother said and engaged in conversation with the man next to her. Her laugh tinkled over the heads of the crowd. Another woman approached her and they hugged. She was good at this. The schmoozing.

Not surprising. Lainey charmed the pants off of everyone she met. Given her upbringing and her mother’s celebrity, it made sense for her to be well-versed in the art of working a crowd. And damn, she worked it. As people orbited her mother, desperate for some of her attention, Lainey circled the fringes, attentive and engaged, not taking up too much of anyone’s time. Everyone she talked to left the conversation with a smile, and she caused more than one riot of laughter.

“Your eyes will dry out if you don’t blink soon.”

“Fuck off.” I dragged my eyes away from her at Blake’s warning. My old friend clapped me on the back as I scowled.

“Any chance you’ll introduce me?”

“Fuck. Off.” I ordered him another drink, along with mine. Under no circumstances would I introduce Blake Dresden to Lainey Carmichael. If she charmed the pants off people, he actually got the pants off people. My friend hadn’t changed his M.O. since we were roommates in med school, and he didn’t show any signs of slowing down his bachelor lifestyle. After the conversation I’d just had with Cooper, the idea of him and Lainey hitting it off felt too raw to consider.

“Not the little one. Mama Carmichael. We could use the good vibes. Think she’d take pity on a poor, struggling cardiac department?”

“Probably. Not yours, though.” Blake glowered, knowing I was right. Mercy Midwest Hospital was just down the street from Cedar and currently an absolute dumpster fire. They’d practically cleaned house last year when it had come out that the previous director was working with the board to embezzle funds and report false patient data to CMS. Not a good look. Blake was young for the director position, but he was one of the few willing to take on the challenge. Now he and the Mercy cardiac staff were still recovering, trying to restore a semblance of stability. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Recruiting, mostly. Getting people drunk and begging them to come work for me. Hello.” A shit-eating grin stretched across Blake’s face, aimed at someone behind me.

“Hi. Sorry, I got stuck over there.” I turned at Lainey’s voice. She fanned her face and set an empty champagne flute down. “It’s a madhouse. I’ve been dry for over an hour.”

Speechless, I pushed my glass in her direction, watching as she smiled and took a sip. Had she come over here for me? Wrestled through the crowd of adoring fans and department heads who wanted to snap her up now that her fellowship was ending? I smiled at the thought.

“Seemed like you were having fun.” I watched her drain my drink. That made me smile, too. Something beastly and proprietary growled in my chest, adoring the sight of this girl, walking over to me, taking my drink without fear.

Her shoulder bobbed as she swallowed. “Daughterly duties and all that. I think my obligation is fulfilled, though. I’d rather hang out over here than with my mom’s fan club.”

“I’m Blake.” He stuck his hand out, practically leaping over the table to get to her. I gave him a warning look that he didn’t see, too engrossed with her.

“Lainey. Nice to meet you.” Her eyes widened when she read his nametag. “Mercy, huh? Wait. Blake Dresden? As in the new director over there? You might need this more than me.” She slid the near-empty glass across the table. Blake laughed.

Pants. Charmed. Dammit.

“You’re probably right. Hey, any chance you want to ditch a brand-new, state-of-the-art facility and come slum it with my scrappy crew? We’ll name an OR after you.”

“Don’t poach my fellow,” I muttered. This time, he spotted my warning glare and shrugged.

“I have to try, dude.”

Lainey laughed, craning her neck towards the bar and the long, snaking line. “I don’t know. I’m fond of the attendings over there. Hard to beat good, hands-on instruction these days.”

She pointedly evaded eye contact with me when she spoke, which somehow made it even more clear that I was the attending she was referring to. Blake’s eyebrows jumped, gaze darting between the two of us while we avoided looking at each other. I struggled to wrench my mind away from picturing the kinds of hands-on I could get with her, if she would give me a chance.

“Well, sure. Reese has always been the best. Helping people is his love language.” Blake leaned in, propping up on the table. “He used to organize study groups for the first years in med school. President of our class year three and four.”

Lainey glanced at me. “Really?”

“Really. No wonder Cedar poached him. You know Northwestern recruited him hard .” Lainey looked impressed. As impressed as someone could be when they, themselves, had been heavily recruited by literally every hospital in the country before she’d finished med school. Blake continued laying it on thick. “Are you going to his lecture tomorrow?”

“You’re doing a lecture?” She turned to face me. I hailed a passing server with a tray of water.

“Oh, yeah. ERCA holds a standing spot for him on the conference agenda. What is this, the fourth year you’ve done the interactive overview?”

“Hmm.” I nudged the water towards Lainey. “Want something stronger?”

Before she could answer, a frazzled-looking woman in an aggressively slick bun squeezed through the crowd and shoved a glass of wine into Lainey’s hand. “Sorry, I lost you back there. I noticed your glass was empty, so I went to get a new one, but they stopped serving champagne at six, so I tried to track some more down and—”

“Oh my gosh, Jessica, you didn’t have to do that! That’s so sweet. This is perfectly fine. Why don’t you take the rest of the night and enjoy yourself? You don’t have to wait on us hand and foot, you know.” Lainey squeezed the woman’s arm. Despite her attempts to soothe, a hectic air clung to the woman. “Blake, Sam, this is Jessica. My mother’s assistant. She keeps all our trains running. We’d be lost without her.”

“Well, thank you. I appreciate that. Especially when I’m trying to—” Her gaze sharpened, honing in on Blake and me. Suddenly, that frazzled energy turned focused. Hawk-like. “Where are you two sitting? For dinner.”

“Uh—” Blake started, checking around the ballroom for the tables currently being set for dinner.

“The McCrareys’ flight was delayed, so we have three open seats at our table, right up front. If we don’t fill it, it’ll be a disaster.” Jessica grabbed onto Lainey’s arm, imploring. “Do you know these people? Do they want to sit with you?”

“Want an upgrade, fellas?” Lainey glanced at us, laughter shining in her eyes. As we agreed, easing some of the tension from poor Jessica’s shoulders, Cooper edged his way around her to stand by Lainey.

“There you are. I need friendly faces. Everyone here only wants to talk about AI diagnostics and that last transplant I did.”

Jessica clicked her fingers. “Dr. Cooper. Perfect. You’re number three. Problem solved.”

She gave Lainey a smile, then whirled back into the crowd.

“I…what?” Cooper stared after her, bewildered.

“You’re sitting with us now. Primo seats. Front row.” Lainey patted his arm.

“Sweet.” They smiled at each other, then looked away at the same time. Cooper to survey the crowd around us and Lainey to glance up at me. I tried my hardest not to over analyze if they were standing too closely, or if that smile had been a little too friendly.

“Tell me about your session tomorrow.” Lainey leaned closer so I could hear her. The soft fabric of her dress dragged against my pants. Before I could respond, someone else popped out of the crowd.

“Lainey? Hi.” The woman was short by most standards. About an inch taller than Lainey. Blonde. She wore a soft smile on her face and a gauzy pink dress that hugged a small, unmistakable baby bump. Nothing about her seemed off or wrong, but Lainey’s spine stiffened as if the woman held a gun to her head.

A man walked over, putting his arm around the blonde woman’s shoulders. “Lainey, hey. Long time, no see. How you been?”

His smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. Lainey tensed even more, if that was possible. Her eyes widened a fraction before all expression left her face completely. “Excuse me,” she murmured, then walked away. I watched as she wove her way through the crowd.

The man cleared his throat, smiling at us without watching her leave. “Nathan McDaniels. It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Cooper. And Dr. Reese. I was hoping our paths would cross tonight. Word has it you have a few attending positions opening up.”

I tracked Lainey’s progress through the crowd and out the door. Her wine sat abandoned in front of me. Where was that glittering smile and charisma? The blonde was still watching her, too, looking at the door long after Lainey had disappeared through it. The man rubbed her arm. Her husband, I assumed, since they were both wearing rings.

“How do you know Dr. Carmichael?” I interjected, as the man was listing out some credential or other at Cooper. He paused, face tightening for just a second.

“We, ah, used to go to school with Lainey. At UT.” His smile looked more like a grimace. “I was always jealous she ended up here. My grandfather was head of surgery, back in the day. It was always my goal to end up at Cedar, too.”

Nathan’s name tag listed him working at Houston Presbyterian. So did the blonde’s—Kate McDaniels. The same institution Lainey had matched with before she’d ended up here for her residency. He was prattling on about something to Cooper, only marginally attempting to include Blake in the discussion.

“Anyway, I’m glad I got a chance to introduce myself. When those resumes come in, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an eye out for mine.” He flashed a winning smile at us. He was average height and blandly handsome in that way people looked when they had some money: Styled hair and good skin.

“We have two very talented fellows who will also submit their names for the job.” My statement sounded like a warning when it left my mouth. And maybe it was. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was I didn’t like the way Lainey had reacted to these people. I didn’t want this guy anywhere near her.

“Um, yes, obviously,” Mr. Average stuttered, grimacing with another smile. “I know Lainey is exceptiona—”

“ Dr. Carmichael,” I interrupted, unable to help myself. Hearing this stranger say Lainey’s name like he knew her…it didn’t sit right.

He cleared his throat, chancing a smile at Cooper, hoping for backup. My colleague gave me an odd look, but didn’t otherwise chime in on our exchange.

“Of course. She—Dr. Carmichael is brilliant. Anyway, please do get in touch if you have…any questions…” He trailed off, offering another pained smile before guiding his wife away.

“That was weird.” Cooper frowned as I watched them cross the room. They didn’t head towards the door Lainey had just used to disappear and I relaxed a bit.

“Yeah,” I agreed. Cooper gave me one last look before shrugging and turning to Blake to ask something about Mercy’s new surgical initiative. I kept my eyes on the door, but Lainey didn’t come back through it.

◆◆◆

“Why do these places only give you one tomato?”

Lainey plopped into the seat next to me just after the servers brought out sad looking salads with, in fact, a single cherry tomato perched on top. Cooper sat on her other side, bracketed by Jessica, who hadn’t stopped moving or tapping on her phone since we’d sat down. Next to me, Blake laughed too loudly at a joke from the man across the table. Apparently, he was some bigwig investor. Blake was probably angling for a donation. Good luck .

“You good?”

Lainey reached for the ranch dressing without meeting my eyes. “Of course. Line to the bathroom was out the door. Oh, it’s starting!” She finished settling in her seat just as her mother strolled onto the stage. Almost as if she’d planned it that way.

Sitting as we were—on the side of the table, all angled to watch Dr. Carmichael’s keynote—it was easy for me to keep a close eye on Lainey. She nodded when appropriate. Applauded salient points. Murmured appreciatively at the right moments, yet didn’t seem to listen to the speech at all. I wondered how many times she’d heard it, or some iteration of it.

Throughout the talk, her back remained ramrod straight. She chased her tomato around the plate, never touching a bite. I refilled her water twice from the pitcher at the table. She didn’t seem aware of the fresh glass of wine by her left hand. She deigned to pick at a roll, popping minute crumbs into her mouth and chewing on them longer than necessary.

By the time her mother had finished and descended to sit, I’d managed to sneak my roll onto her plate and snag Blake’s just in case.

“Dr. Cooper! The man of the hour. Word on the street is that the Clinical Innovation award is coming home with you after the ceremony tomorrow.” Dr. Rebecca Carmichael was very good at her job. She knew every player in the space who was worth knowing, and used them to her advantage—sometimes ruthlessly. It didn’t surprise me that Cooper was on her radar. Not when someone had recently called him “cardio’s bad boy” in an association forum and the nickname had stuck.

“And Dr. Reese! So glad you could join us, as well. Jessica reminded me a little while ago how active you are with the foundation. What was it, fifteen pro bono surgeries last year for people in need? An inspiration! I’m hearing good things about your bid for resident director.”

“Fifteen?!” Lainey hissed, quiet enough that no one around us could hear her. She stared down at her napkin, like she hadn’t meant for me to hear her, either. Jessica nodded and smiled, likely having pulled a dossier on every single person at this table so Dr. Carmichael could mingle most effectively.

“Of course, Elaina is also active in our work." She smiled fondly at her daughter. "I can’t wait for her to engage more once her fellowship is complete. Dr. Dresden, how is it going over at Mercy? I hear you’re working on righting that ship. Awful stuff.”

Blake leapt at the chance to capitalize on her attention. Around the table, heads swiveled to listen. Mercy was everyone’s favorite drama these days.

“Fifteen pro bono cases in one year. That’s more than one a month!” Lainey whispered.

“Yes. You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Y-yes,” she stuttered, making eye contact for the first time since she had sat down. “Sorry about that. Old enemies. I wasn’t thrilled to see them.”

“Not too late to put a laxative in their cheesecake.” My response set Lainey laughing—a real one, not a fake, cocktail party laugh I heard so often at these things. I was dying to know what had set her off. Who were those enemies of hers? What had they done and did we ride at dawn?

But her petrified face was still too fresh in my mind. The same one she’d worn back at Molido when I’d asked her about Texas.

“I don’t want to talk about them. I want to talk about you. And those fifteen surgeries. And that session tomorrow.” She accepted her wine glass when I pushed it closer, looking surprised to find it there. And simultaneously, seemed to find something surprising about me being there, too. “I mean, who the heck are you?”

“Name’s Sam. Nice to meet you.” I offered her my hand. She took it with a smile, shoulders relaxing a bit when she laughed.

For the rest of the night, we chatted about my session, the association, and her mother’s next speaking tour. Eventually, Cooper left the table to find a bar and didn’t come back. Blake took his spot and Lainey didn’t make any move to follow when her mother left.

By the end of the night, it was just the two of us, lost in conversation as the staff started cleaning up around us. And I loved it. Or at least would have loved it if not for the niggling feeling that she was still on edge, keeping a wary eye out for that blonde and her husband.