“Can I ask why? I think the hospital’s paying my salary, right? So I won’t cost you anything?”
“You’re right, and that’s part of the issue. Heather hired you, and your salary comes from the hospital. So your loyalty will be to Heather, not to me. And if I have an admin assistant, Heather will expect me to do more admin work, and I really don’t have time for it.”
I wonder why he wanted to be the chief of the department if he hates administrative work so much, but that’s probably a question for another day.
“I don’t think that’s the goal,” I say cautiously.
The ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “So Heather’s not hoping you’ll persuade me to go to meetings, shit like that?”
“Oh. Well . . .” I’d love to deny it, but Heather specifically mentioned getting him to meetings. “I’m just an assistant, Dr. Malone. I doubt I could persuade you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”
“You should have been a diplomat, Miss Parker. Heather’s already talked to you about meetings, hasn’t she?”
I decide to deflect that one. “You’re welcome to call me Alexandra, you know. Miss Parker sounds much too formal.”
I study his face, hoping for some encouragement, but he’s staring down at his desk, apparently deep in thought.
I glance around the office, hoping to find things that need doing—papers to be filed, or desktop photos that need dusting. But the office is entirely free of clutter, and his desk is clear apart from his computer and an unopened bottle of Perrier. There’s a notable lack of personal touches; in fact, the only decoration is a generic landscape print on one wall, and I’d bet that came with the office.
I realize his office door is still open, and Celine’s probably listening to every word I’m saying. I quickly cross the room and shut the door. I don’t want Celine to hear me beg.
Dr. Malone looks up when the door snicks shut.
“Miss Parker—” he says, looking a little unsettled.
“Please, Dr. Malone, I’m just asking for a chance. There must be something I could do to help free up some of your time. It doesn’t need to be traditional admin assistant work. I’ll could clean your office?—”
“The hospital cleaners come through every night.”
“Your house, then.”
“I have a cleaning lady.”
“Buy your tea in the morning, so you don’t have to waste time in line behind people who can’t find their wallets.”
He doesn’t exactly smile at that, but his eyes crinkle at the corners a little.
“And I could get your lunch, too,” I suggest. “Save you the cafeteria line.”
“I never eat at the cafeteria.”
“Well, that’s probably smart,” I acknowledge. “I heard a rumor that the cafeteria food comes from the same company that supplies the federal prisons, but the prisoners get a higher quality plan.”
“Sounds about right,” he mutters. “Look, Alexandra?—”
I can tell from his expression that he’s about to say no, so I interrupt before he can. “I’ll pack your lunches, then,” I offer. “I’m a pretty decent cook.”
He doesn’t answer immediately, so I keep talking. "There must be some task I can take off your plate. I mean, I can't operate for you, but?—”
“You can't?" he asks, lifting an eyebrow.
“I mean, I guess it's only brain surgery," I joke, and he rolls his eyes. “You probably hear that joke a lot?”
“I’ve heard it a few times, yeah.”
“I could manage your social media accounts,” I suggest. “Promotional content, that sort of thing.”
Dr. Malone sighs. “This is Canada, Alexandra. We have publicly funded health care and a doctor shortage. My wait time for non-urgent referrals is over six months.”
