“I am. But I can’t Friday. I have plans.”
He cocked his head to the side as his eyes narrowed. I could swear a storm was brewing there.
“Cancelyourplans,” he said between gritted teeth.
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I can work with your assistant to find a time that works for both of us if you’d like—”
“No. I can do it this Friday. I want to get it over with as soon as possible.”
Over with?I hadn’t asked him to do this. He wanted to work on the trial. I never asked him to, and now he was trying to make it seem like some great inconvenience while at the same time overstepping on it?
“No,” I said. I took a deep breath. “I’m afraid the plans I have on Friday can’t be canceled.”
My shift was over, so I stood to leave. “I’ll find a time with your assistant.”
“Dr. Ramirez, we are not done here,” he said.
“I’m afraid we are, Doctor.”
Putting distance between the hospital and me was the best thing I could do for my sanity. It had been a challenging day between the sensitivity training, Dr. Keach hovering over me, and now this. I speed-walked to the conference room where I'd left my tablet earlier.
“Caro?” I heard Sara’s voice as I sped by her. “What’s wrong?”
“I gotta go,” I said.
I’d just grabbed the tablet when I heard steps behind me.
“Not now, Sara, we’ll talk later.”
“It’s not Sara,” he said. I turned to face Dr. Medina, who I hadn’t realized had followed me out of his office.
“We weren’t done talking.”
“Yes, we were. I have to go now.”
“No. I need you to cancel your plans Friday.”
“AndI told you, I can’t do that. I don’t know what else there is to talk about.”
He shook his head and took off his glasses to wipe them with a cloth he produced from his pants pocket.
“Your plans can’t be more important than this.”
“Frankly, it is none of your business.”
“You can drink another time,” he hissed.
“Excuse me?” I reared back. Had I heard him right?
“I’ve seen you outside of work exactly two times, and both times you have been drinking.”
“Dr. Medina, with all due respect, sir, you are out of line.” How could I tell off my boss? I couldn’t. Not without risking my job.
“I don’t think I am, Dr. Ramirez. If I think that it’s getting in the way of your job.”
“What? Getting in the way of my job?” He was silent for a moment—the audacity. “Dr. Medina,” I hissed right back at him, “you might have seen me drinking two times, but if you can, please use your brain. Was I drunk or even tipsy? I don’t drink often; you happened to be around for one special occasion, and the other was a girls’ night out. I would never drink and come to work. How could you imply I would endanger my patients like that?”
More silence.