“Because a nurse of your caliber doesn’t stay in one position for long without itching to move up or seek out more education. At least, not in my experience.”
There was a long silence as I continued the delicate stitching process that would complete this surgery. I could hear other conversations around the room. To my far right, a surgical tech was going over the different tools that were used throughout the surgery to a third-year medical student. A nurse across the table, farther back from where Dr. Wu had been standing, was explaining OR procedures to a nursing student. But to my immediate right, there was silence.
I parted my mouth to ask the question again when I finally heard, “I’ve been thinking of going back to school to complete my licensure to become a nurse anesthetist.”
That answer didn’t surprise me at all. Of course that was her career goal.
“Trying to take my job, huh?” Dr. Graham, the anesthesiologist for this surgery, joked from his position at the head of the table.
Grace laughed. “You’re irreplaceable, Dr. Graham.”
Lifting my gaze, I scowled at the man. No one fucking invited him to be a part of this conversation.
“Why haven’t you completed your education for the position?”
I saw Grace’s head turn to me. She shrugged. “Life got in the way for a little bit.”
That was a coded way of saying some shit occurred that she didn’t want to talk about. I knew all about not wanting to discuss one’s past. Typically, I didn’t give a shit enough to find out about anyone else’s life, but again, Grace wasn’t like anyone else.
“But you’re back to considering it?”
“Yes.”
“What’s keeping you from just taking the plunge? A husband? Kids at home?” And because I wanted to see her face when she answered those questions, I pulled my gaze from the patient, after making the final stitch.
Those brown eyes were wide. “No.” She shook her head. “God, no,” she responded, as if the idea of a husband or children at home waiting for her was the last thing she wanted or needed.
Good.
That damn sure made two of us.
“Let’s go talk to this patient’s husband, shall we?” I said as I dropped the surgical tools in my hands into the metal dish another nurse held out for me. I turned to the anesthesiologist. “Dr. Graham?”
“Everything looks good.”
I nodded and gave some final instructions to wheel the patient out to the recovery room prior to discarding my surgical mask, gloves, and robe, depositing them in the waste before exiting the OR. Grace was right next to me doing the same. It was almost uncanny how natural our flow felt.
Chapter Six
Jacob
It was a Saturday night. I had the entire day off and wasn’t scheduled to be back at the hospital until Monday. Typically, that meant my weekend nights were spent down at the Underground looking for a fight to get into, or at the very least, to watch. But tonight was different.
I entered the darkly lit lounge and my gaze immediately went to the woman on the stage. I frowned. It wasn’t Grace.
Lifting my wrist in front of me, I noted the time was just about nine-thirty. I still had some time before Grace hit the stage. I made it a point after my last shift on Friday to look up the schedule to see the next time she was performing. It was tonight. I could’ve asked her but I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to skip out on performing because she knew I would be here. I liked the element of surprise.
Pausing at the bar to the left, I ordered whatever the best beer they had on tap was. I was limiting myself to one beer for the evening so I might as well make it a good one. As I eased my way past the other patrons, I spotted an empty table directly in front of the stage. Just as I arrived at the table, another guy started to pull out the chair on the opposite side of the table.
“This one’s taken,” I growled.
His peered up at me, mouth opening as if he was about to challenge me, but right before he said anything, he must’ve thought better of it. He soon released the chair and headed to another open table.
I released the breath I was holding, realizing that I’d been completely willing to get into a full-on fight with a random stranger over a table so I could have a front row view of the woman I came to see. And worse than that, I was completely okay with it.
Placing the glass holding my beer down at the center of the able, I pulled out the black wooden chair, sitting down and crossing one jean-covered leg over the other. I folded my arms across my broad chest, frowning at the woman on stage, wishing she would instantly disappear and make room for the real star of tonight’s lineup.
The wait felt like forever, although it was less than ten minutes before the woman, whose name I didn’t bother listening for, exited the stage. I uncrossed my leg and sat upright in my chair, bending at the waist to prop my elbows on my thighs. I felt my body gearing up in anticipation. It was almost the same exhilaration I felt right before surgery. As a doctor I knew the signs of an adrenaline rush. My brain was redirecting blood from my internal organs to my muscles in preparation for fight or flight. But neither of those were an option at this moment. No way was I about get up and miss Grace on stage.
