She tapped the end of her pen against the thick glass of her desk, her eyes flicking to her phone for what had to be the fifth time in as many minutes. It remained dark and silent, offering no distractions, at least not physical ones. Her mind, however, was another matter.
This was ridiculous. She didn’t wait for messages. She certainly didn’t expect them. And yet, some part of her had spent the last few days anticipating a text from Sloane that never came.
Catherine exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away as she pulled up a patient’s file on her computer. There were test results to review, upcoming surgeries to prepare for, and an entire department to run. She didn’t have time for distractions.
She refused to be distracted.
A knock at the door interrupted her silent battle with herself. Before she could answer, Olivia slipped inside, closing the door behind her with a casual ease that only a sibling would dare.
"Wow, you’re lost in your mind," Olivia said, her tone matter-of-fact as she perched on the edge of Catherine’s desk.
Catherine didn’t look up. "I’m focused."
"Focused on what? Because it sure as hell isn’t that file."
Catherine let out a slow breath, forcing herself to relax as she leveled a cool gaze at her sister. "Do you need something, Olivia, or did you just come in here to psychoanalyze me?"
Olivia crossed her arms, tilting her head. "I don’t need to analyze anything. You’re off, Catherine."
Catherine’s jaw tightened. "I don’t get ‘off.’"
"Right. And yet, you’ve been on edge for days. Your usual brand of iciness is…slipping."
Catherine rolled her eyes, reaching for her coffee and taking a drawn-out sip before responding. "That’s absurd."
Olivia smirked. "Is it?"
Catherine hated the way her younger sister could see through her and read between the lines of her silence. She was the only one in the family who had ever really tried to.
"Is this about work?" Olivia continued, studying her. "Because you only get this tense when you’re either overthinking a case or—" She paused, and then her expression shifted into something dangerously perceptive. "Or when someone gets under your skin."
Catherine stilled, just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.
Olivia’s smirk widened. "Ah. So that’s what this is about."
Catherine exhaled slowly, setting her coffee cup down with a measured calm. "You’re imagining things."
Olivia shook her head. "Nope. You are. And let me guess, you keep telling yourself you’re not thinking about her, but that’s all you’ve been doing, isn’t it?"
Catherine picked up a pen, tapping it against the desk. "Do you need something, Olivia?"
Her sister grinned. "No, but you do."
Catherine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Go away."
Olivia laughed, standing. "Fine, fine. Just…maybe don’t fight whatever this is so hard, Catherine. You might actually like it if you let yourself."
Catherine didn’t respond as Olivia left, but her words echoed long after the door clicked shut.
The procedure had been a success, but Catherine’s irritation simmered just beneath the surface as she stripped off her gloves and surgical gown, tossing them into the bin with more force than necessary. The new robotic surgical system had been touted as the latest and greatest in precision technology, an investment Evelyn Harrington had personally pushed through the board, but it wasn’t functioning as seamlessly as it should have.
There had been a delay mid-operation, a glitch in the robotic arm’s calibration, and though Catherine had course-corrected with her own steady hands, the moment had been enough to send her blood pressure spiking. The hospital prided itself on excellence, and anything short of that was unacceptable.
Worse, she could already imagine the conversation with her mother.
A malfunction, a slight hesitation, a minor complication—none of it would be acceptable in Evelyn’s eyes.
With a controlled exhale, Catherine rolled her shoulders back, releasing some of the tension that had coiled there, and stepped out of the operating room. The hallway was quiet, late enough that most of the staff had either left or were tucked away in their respective departmental wings. The weight of the day pressed on her as she made her way back to her office, running a hand through her hair, mentally preparing herself for the emails she would have to send and the reports she needed to review before she could even consider going home.
