“See?” I gesture subtly. “That’s not the guy I’ve spent the day with. I haven’t seen a single smile. Those are reserved for patients and anyone who isn’t me, apparently. All I’ve received are frowns and scowls.”
Ginny frowns lightly. “Well, shoot. I don’t know what to tell you, honey. Maybe he just didn’t want a resident and he’s annoyed Clarence gave him one?”
“Well, he needs to get over that,” I mumble. “I’m here to learn and finish my residency. Not put up with some jerk with an attitude problem.” I finish my sandwich and stand up, stretching my arms overhead as I sneak another glance out at Dr. Donnelly. He’s still standing there, smiling and talking, like he didn’t just run me ragged all morning.
Ginny stands as well and moves to go back to the station. At the door, she pauses and looks back at me. “I’m sure he’s just having an off day. Max Donnelly is a sweetheart. You just keep being you, and he’ll warm up.”
As I make my way over to the man I’m stuck with for the near future and watch his face transform from open and friendly to closed and aloof, I can’t help but hope Ginny’s right.
Because spending the next several months working with a man who clearly hates me is not exactly my idea of a good time.
Chapter three
Max
I lost count of the number of times I started to compose an email in my head to send Clarence Ross requesting Heidi Morgan be placed with a different attending. But it was a lot. He’d respect my concerns, I’m sure. There’s an obvious conflict of interest, given who she’s involved with and what he did twelve years ago.
But Clarence doesn’t know that piece of my history. Truthfully, I’ve compartmentalized it. Pushed the memories of the weeks where we weren’t sure how Dad would be into the deep dark recesses of my mind.
It’s stayed hidden there, along with one other moment in time that defined me — and not in a good way. And I’m not thrilled about how her return to Westport General has blown the lid off that tightly sealed box.
I could go to Clarence and tell him the whole story. But my professional conscience is getting in my way, telling me to man up and be the bigger person. I can teach her. I can give her whatever respect sheearnsand avoid her the rest of the time. We don’t need to get personal; I don’t need to see her outside of the hours we spend together within these walls.
But the reality of the situation is unavoidable. In order to do my job to the standard I uphold, I have to spend the next several months with a daily reminder of one of the worst parts of my past.
“Bro, you coming inside?” Sawyer’s fist thumps the hood of my car.
“Yeah, gimme a minute, would you?” I grump at him. He steps back and I get out, leaning in to grab the bottle of wine from the front seat.
“Mom’s favourite?” he asks as we make our way up to the front door of our parents’ house.
“Yup. Hoping she doesn’t give me shit for missing the last two weeks.”
Our parents host family dinner every week, and it’s an open invitation to all five of us — six, if you count our cousin Leo who recently moved to Dogwood Cove. It’s rare for us all to be available between mine and Sawyer’s shift work, and the fact that our brother Jude plays for the NHL team in Montana and rarely gets to come home. But whenever I can make it, I always grab a bottle of Mom’s favourite wine from a local winery, La Lune Rouge. One of the owners is friends with our cousin Leo’s fiancée Serena. That’s how it goes in small towns. Everyone knows everyone somehow.
“Nah, she’ll be too busy pestering Hunter and Kat about their new place. Did you know she bought them a set of pots and pans, like good ones? Shit, when I moved into my apartment, I didn’t even get a dish towel. I’m taking those pans when they break up.”
“You’ll touch my pans over my dead body,” Kat says, walking up to us and taking the bottle from me and giving me a quick hug as she glowers at Sawyer. “And stop talking about my relationship ending. It’s mean.”
Sawyer just shrugs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. Hunter’s cool, but love is for fools.” He saunters inside as Kat’s eyes follow him for a second before turning to me. There’s a small frown on her face. “Will he ever grow up?”
Our younger sister started dating one of the cops in town last Christmas. They had a rocky start, but it would take a blind man not to see how happy they make each other. Personally, I never had an issue with them, but Sawyer likes to take the overprotective brother role to the extreme.
I shake my head slowly. Sawyer has his reasons to be wary of love; hell, so do I. But that doesn’t give us the right to be a jackass to our sister and her boyfriend. “Sorry Kat, I don’t know what goes on in his head, nor do I want to.”
She shudders lightly. “Yeah, that boy’s head is a scary place.” We both laugh. Out of all of us, Sawyer’s the wildest. Spontaneous, reckless, immature at times, but for the most part, he comes from a good place. Except when it comes to Kat’s love life. For whatever reason, he can’t seem to accept the fact that she and Hunter are happy.
We make our way to the kitchen, where I find my mom stirring something at the stove that smells amazing.
“Hi honey, I’m glad you made it tonight.”
I reach for a wine glass and open the bottle I brought, putting it on the counter beside her as I lean in and kiss the side of her head. “Yeah, shifts finally lined up. What’s for dinner?” I try to sneak my finger in to taste, but Claire Donnelly raised five kids, and that makes her reflexes faster than anything. She smacks me away with her hand at the same time she picks up her wineglass and takes a drink.
“Fettucine alfredo,” she says. “And it’s almost ready, so get your mucky hands out of it.”
Just then, the front door opens, and more voices fill the air. The telltale sound of little footsteps come running down the hallway, and a blur of purple barrels into the kitchen and latches itself onto my mom’s legs.
“Hi there, Miss Vi,” Mom croons, bending down to pick up my cousin’s four-year-old daughter. “Oof, you’re getting big. Auntie Claire won’t be able to pick you up soon.”
