"Goodnight, Dr. Cross."
She shouldered her bag and walked out. I let her, because that was what I always did. I let her leave every room and I stayed exactly where I was and I did not follow.
Go home, I had told her.
I had absolutely no idea how to take my own advice.
My office was silent when I reached it. I made coffee in the small machine on the credenza, bitter and strong enough to wake someone from a coma, and then settled behind my desk to review patient charts while the caffeine worked its way through my system.
The surgery went well. A textbook repair. The patient would need careful monitoring for the next seventy-two hours, but barring complications, he would survive.
My friend, Dr. Cassian Reeds, showed up at noon and swung the door open like he owned the place. The smell of his fast-food lunch drowned out his cologne.
"You look terrible." He dropped into the chair across from my desk with his trademark smirk.
"Thanks for the assessment." I didn't lift my eyes from the chart. "What do you want?"
“Your charming company, obviously." He unwrapped what appeared to be a turkey sandwich drowning in mayonnaise. "Heard you dragged Rosen in for emergency surgery at three in the morning."
"Cardiac contusion with ventricular rupture. Needed someone competent."
“After a thirteen-hour shift?”
I set down my pen and finally looked at him. “What’s your point, Cassian?”
He shrugged. “That you don’t know when to stop.”
"My work ethic is my concern."
“Yeah, yeah.” He leaned back and smeared a little mustard on the wrapper. “I get it. The hospitals can wait and you can ignore sleep, but seriously, Riv. Did you think no one would notice?”
I rolled my eyes. “Notice what?”
“Your complete lack of self-care. Also…” He leaned forward conspiratorially, elbows on my desk. "That particularly arrogant expression you get when you tell everyone else to relax while you're secretly drowning in stress."
"I don't get stressed," I said flatly.
“Right,” he said, grinning. “Because thirteen-hour shifts plus an emergency call at three in the morning is totally normal behavior for a sane human being.”
Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitched. "You're insufferable."
"And yet you tolerate my presence in your office. Clearly you enjoy my company on some masochistic level." His smirk became positively gleeful. "Don't bother denying it."
I ignored him and continued working.
He tossed the sandwich wrapper playfully into the trash. “Now, serious question. You coming to that fundraiser next month?”
“No,” I replied without missing a beat, anticipating the next push.
Cassian had always made it a point to be the thorn in my side since the day he decided it was interesting to poke fun at myboring life choices. His words.
"Come on. Free food, open bar, you can lurk in corners and intimidate donors. You're exceptional at that."
I crossed my arms. “I don’t intimidate anyone.”
“You absolutely do. It’s your whole vibe.” He leaned back, spreading his arms dramatically as if to show the evidence of my aura. “Everyone knows it. Even the attendings are afraid of you. But secretly, you enjoy social events. Admit it."
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, fighting to keep my expression neutral.
