“That was a nice way to put it,” I muttered under my breath, though deep inside I was grateful for the compliment. I didn’t get many of those lately. While I prided myself on my independent nature, I was also an achiever and liked getting the A+ on my report card or a word of recognition.Maybe that was why it had stung so bad when I’d been reported to the ethics committee. To know someone had given me a low grade was demoralizing. I didn’t want it to happen again. “You’ll have to give me some instruction. I honestly don’t know what more I can do to communicate with my team.”
“Well, the first step in any relationship—and this includes coworkers, friends, family, subordinates, and patients—is to help people feel comfortable talking to you. They need to know that you will listen to them, and their opinion matters—even if you don’t agree.”
I held up a hand to stop him from going on. “As a surgeon, I don’t have time to take a vote from a committee about every decision I make. In my line of work, quick decisions are the difference between life and death. I went to school for a long time to learn how to make those decisions, and I’m confident in my ability.”
“It isn’t about sacrificing confidence,” Dylan replied. “It is about not appearing arrogant.”
I set my jaw. “I’m not arrogant.”
“I’m not saying you are.” Dylan scratched at his beard. “We’re talking about being approachable. Your confidence is a credit to your field, but it can also make you come off as cold.”
My chin jerked back in surprise.That was the opposite of everything I’d ever heard about confidence. Confidence drew people to you. Being confident instilled my patients—and hopefully those I worked with—with faith in my abilities.
“The key to proper communication is being the type of communicator thatothers will listen to and be ready to work with you, not against you.”
This was getting ridiculous. “So how do I do that?” I asked in exasperation. I picked up the pacing routine again. “Especially when I feel as though I’m in the right.”
Dylan paused, thinking about his answer before he threw words at me. That, right there, was a lesson in and of itself. I trusted my gut and my brain enough that I didn’t filter words before they came out. “Being able to see things as clearly as you do probably means that you expect others to see through that same lens. But your clarity isyourgift—not everyone has that. You need to explain what you’re doing or why you’re prescribing a treatment, therapy, or surgery so that the people around you can see what you see.”
His words struck a chord, and I mulled them over in silence. To be honest, I’d never thought about that before. It could be true that I projected my strengths onto others and then held them accountable for not measuring up. Was that why I came off as short, because I felt like I was always stating the obvious? My neck grew warm as I looked at myself from an outsider’s perspective.
Dylan leaned forward, smiling in a way that had me believing he could see the wheels turning in my head and was pleased that we were now moving along.“Why don’t we work on that for this week?” he said. “Try to be open to communicating your point of view, so others will understand where you’re coming from.”
“All right,” I answered. That seemed a lot easier than becoming a bobbleheadthat agreed with everyone, or worse yet, asking opinions at every turn.Besides, I could see that this was a flaw in my own thinking and not one that was going to kill me to adjust.
I didn’t know how exactly I was going to communicate what I saw, but I would give it my best effort. And I’d start with Nurse Emma. No sense dipping my toe into the water—I was going to jump in headfirst and try to get her to understand me better. I’d been avoiding her because I didn’t think we would ever see eye to eye, but maybe we didn’t have to.
If I could win Emma over as a colleague, then I would prove that I didn’t need all this counseling and therapy after all.
Chapter Six
Emma
My phone went off in the middle of the night, pulling me out of a beautiful dream where my team was in the World Series and I had front-row seats next to a handsome, dark-haired doctor who, thankfully, remained faceless.
I squinted at the clock and groaned. 1:00 a.m.
I didnotwant to be called in tonight. I’d been having such a great sleep, and my shift started shortly after this one ended. I’d done back-to-backs before, but I didn’t like them. Thankfully, I had a diet soda in the fridge to perk me up. It might be the only thing to get me through the next 18 hours.
Normally, I didn’t pick up graveyard call shifts, butGina’s son hada 104-degree fever, and she didn’t have anyone to look after him during the night. How could I say no?
I rolled out of bedonly half awake, and I hurriedly put on my scrubs and minimal makeup and threw my hair up in a high ponytail. My curls were everywhere, and I admittedly still looked a mess. I added a small rabbit-ear hair tie to give my look a little bit of polish, as if I was going for the messy but sexy vibe. Whatever woman invented that look was a godsend and deserved sainthood. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.
The streets were empty, and the stores were all closed up. The moon was out and shining like it hadn’t a care in the world. Driving in the quiet was a peaceful feeling, and I drew upon it for whatever I was going to face when I walked in.
The front doors to the hospital slid open, and the smell of cleaner hit me. I twisted the top on my soda and chugged a few swallows.The carbonation burned as it went down, waking me the rest of the way and helping me feel like it was normal for me to be here instead of in bed. Patients’ room lights were dimmed, and the regular hum of activity was silent.
I got to the TICU and received a report on the patient they needed help with. A chest trauma had come into the hospital an hour earlier that required emergency surgery. Luckily, the surgery had gone quickly, and the patient was already recovering in their room, so I went to the computer and started going over my orders.
Movement near the elevators caught my attention, and I turned and saw Dr. Mitchell standing there. I took a moment to study him when he didn’t know I was there. If he sensed me watching him, he’d duck into the stairwell and leave so this was a rare opportunity. I wasn’t used to being an ice queen, and the title fit about as well as trying to wear a child’s winter coat.
Maybe it was Becca’s comments earlier about Dr. Mitchell’s looks that had me admitting to myself how handsome he looked in blue scrubs. He had this whole bad-boy look about him, kind of a Bruce Wayne vibe that saidtry and tame me if you dare.Ugh! I’d fallen for that kind of a guy before and wasn’t about to do it again. Not only was my ex irredeemable; he was unrepentant. There was no working with a man who didn’t care if he lost me.
That was a bucket of hurt I didn’t want to take the lid off of at the moment, so I focused back on Dr. Mitchell. His dark hair was wet, like he’d just showered. Which he could have done after surgery. His shoulders were relaxed, and he looked approachable.
You know, if I were thinking of approaching him.
Which I wasn’t.
