“I’ll take you to meet him,” Heather says brightly, leading me back toward the elevators. “All the other department chiefs have offices in the executive wing, but Dr. Malone chose to stay on the surgical floor.”
“Okay.”
“As you can imagine, it makes communication more difficult,” Heather says with a chuckle. “Of course, we’re hoping you’ll be able to help with that.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She smiles. “That’s all we ask. I’ll email you if there’s something particularly important to bring to his attention. We’ll count on you to remind him to come to meetings, stuff like that.”
“You mean, manage his calendar?” Maybe Dr. Malone is the absent-minded professor type.
“Basically, yes. He’s very busy, and he doesn’t always remember meetings.”
We get off the elevator, and Heather leads me past a nursing station and down a hall of offices. She stops outside a door with a nameplate that readsDr. Malone, Neurosurgery, and gives a perfunctory knock before pushing it open.
An attractive brunette sits in the outer office, talking on the phone. She’s around forty, with olive skin and warm brown eyes that cool when she sees Heather.
We wait patiently until she hangs up.
“Hi, Celine,” Heather says. “This is Alexandra Parker. She’s going to be Dr. Malone’s new assistant. For his department chief responsibilities.”
Celine makes a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a snort.
“What was that, Celine?” Heather asks.
Celine forces her lips into a smile. “Welcome, Alexandra.”
I force myself to smile back at her. “Thank you, Celine.”
“Excellent,” Heather says. She glances at the door to the inner office, which is firmly closed. “Is Dr. Malone in?”
Celine shakes her head. “Operating room,” she says succinctly.
“Operating room?” Heather repeats.
“Heisa surgeon,” Celine says with a shrug.
“Of course,” Heather says. “But I didn’t think he operated Mondays.”
“He doesn’t usually,” Celine says. “But sometimes he does.”
Heather glances back at the closed door. It’s clear she doesn’t entirely believe Celine, but she doesn’t have the guts to knock on the door herself.
“All right.” Heather’s eyes scan the outer office. It’s furnished with exactly one desk, one chair, one computer, and one phone, and Celine’s using them all. “I thought there was a second desk in here, with a computer?”
“Dr. Malone had it removed a couple months ago, when the last assistant quit,” Celine explains.
“Ah,” Heather says. “Well, you’ll have to call the storeroom and get it sent back. And call IT for another computer.”
Celine stares her down. “I’ll have to ask Dr. Malone’s permission first.”
I don’t understand the dynamic here. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Celine was the executive and Heather was the assistant.
Heather purses her lips, and I can tell she’s debating whether to argue the point. In the end, she gives in.
“All right, then. Alexandra, I’ll leave you with Celine. She can orient you to Dr. Malone’s schedule. There’s a multidisciplinary communication meeting later this month that we’d like him to attend. I’ll email you the details.”
“Of course. Thanks Heather.” Without a computer, I have no way of accessing my work email, but what else can I say?
