I didn’t see him again until late that evening. I’d finished all the work I needed to with my patients, and now all that was left was to chart on my last three consults of the day. I grabbed my laptop, deciding to chart from the doctors’ lounge where I could relax a bit. I hadn’t gotten a chance to eat during my shift, so I grabbed aTwixbar from the vending machine and set it next to my laptop on the table. The details I was charting swallowed me for nearly an hour, which meant I forgot about the chocolate. That was incredibly slow charting, but I wasn’t merely charting. I was analyzing every aspect of their disease: its presentation, treatment, and outcomes so far. I was scanning for clues. Anything that would help me beat this bastard called cancer.
The door swung open, and Dr. Medina walked in and settled in one of the sofa chairs. He didn’t notice me at first.
“Hello,” I said. “How’s your first day going?”
He turned to me, startled to find me sitting in the corner. “It’s technically my second day.”
“Okay, how’s your second day going?”
“All right. Nothing special.” He walked over to the table and sat across from me.
For some reason, that comment stung a little. He smirked, and I realized he was teasing me.
“What is this?” He picked up theTwixbar.
“Dinner.”
“Dinner? This isn’tfood, let alone dinner.”
“Don’t judge.” I snatched the chocolate from his grip. I opened it and grabbed one of the two chocolate bars inside. As if to prove my point, I took a healthy bite. My eyes rolled back, and I moaned with pleasure. A thin strand of caramel fell to my lower lip, and I licked it off once I swallowed the bite. I opened my eyes to a stunned Dr. Medina. His mouth was parted, and he cleared his throat after a moment.
Then it hit me. I realized what he must have seen. He didn’t know that was my standard response to chocolate. He probably thought I was still flirting with him and probablynotin the joking way I had earlier after our visit with Valentina. I was about to apologize and further stick my foot in my mouth, but he beat me to it, breaking the awkward moment.
He reached for the other half of my chocolate. “I think I will try it after all—”
I snatched it away before he could. “You can’t come in here judging my snack, insulting chocolate no less, and then ask for some.”
“Youdoknow I’m your boss, right?”
“And being my boss while forcing me to give up half my dinner is an abuse of power.”
He opened his mouth to speak when the door burst open. Sara marched in with murder in her eyes.Shit.What had I done now?
“Carolina. Isabel. Ramirez. Fuentes,” Sara huffed. She stood directly in front of me, both hands on her hips as she glared me down. She had long ago picked up Dad’s trick of letting me know precisely how furious she was.
My full name.Double shit.“Chocolate?” I offered with a grin.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whined.
Dr. Medina jumped in. “I’m sorry, this is the doctors’ lounge, maybe you should—”
Sara brought her hand up to his face silencing him, and I cringed. “Do you enjoy changing your own patients’ bedpans, Doctor?”
“Is she talking to me?” he asked, perplexed because Sara’s glare never left me.
“Yep. I think so.”
He gulped. “My apologies, Sara. Won’t happen again.”
It didn’t escape me that he had learned her name.
“You are new here, so I’ll let it slide.This time.”
“What’s this about, Sara?” I asked.
“Your dad just texted me. You didn’t invite me to the cookout.”
“I’m not going to the cookout,” I hissed.