Page 9 of Sweet Heart

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before releasing a frustrated sigh. The tension in my jaw causes my head to throb, and the last thing I need right now is a headache on top of it all. Focus, Cat!

My eyes slowly open, and I let them glide over the words again.

A 63-year-old male patient received fentanyl 50 mcg IV for management of severe back pain. Approximately ten minutes following administration, the patient exhibited muscle rigidity, reported dizziness, and developed diffuse flushing of the upper torso. Medication was…

My mind slowly slips back to the same place it has wandered to all day. The exam room. Or rather, the look on Mary’s face when I told her she was medically cleared. She was brave about it. Smiled and thanked me with that bravado of hers. But she couldn’t hide that flash of regret that had flickered across her face.

“Dios, Katherina. She is your patient, for crying out loud,” I mutter to myself while I stand to stretch my legs.

I haven’t even made it to the break room for a cup of coffee when the familiar weight of a soft, warm arm lands on my shoulder.

“Hermosa, are we going dancing tonight?”

A part of me wants to snap, but the way Carmen beams at me makes me pause. Her bright smile cracks right through the frustration and seeps into the little spot reserved for my loved ones. So instead of growling at her for addressing me like that at work, I find myself smiling a little.

“Nurse Rodrigues,” I say, emphasizing her title, and Carmen chuckles softly under her breath. “I still have a report to sign off on.”

“¿Qué? You? At this hour?”

I press my lips together and nod as I push the door to the break room open. I make a beeline for the coffee pot in the hope that she lets it go, but since we are the only ones there, she plops down on the couch and gazes at me. I sigh and grab two cups.

“Today was just… a lot,” I offer.

“How? There were no major incidents that I was made awar— Ay, Cat! Is it that cutie from this morning?”

My eyes snap to her, pinning her to her spot, but Carmen is anything but impressed. She has seen me stare daggers before and knows it only means she is touching something sensitive.

“Aah, la rubia, she got into your head.”

“The blonde did not get into my head, Carmen. I was treating her.”

“Whatever,” she huffs and waves her hand at me. “If you were to meet her at the bar tonight, you would totally pick her up.”

I roll my eyes. “When was the last time I picked anyone up?”

“Good point, hermana! You should’ve asked for her phone number.”

“Carmen!”

“What? Obviously there was some chemistry going on, or you wouldn’t be this… this… confundida.”

“I am not confused,” I growl at her this time, and her eyebrow raises slightly. “It’s crystal clear. Not only am I the Chief of Trauma, I was also her treating physician. It is a matter of ethics.”

“Ha,” she snorts. “Tell that to your hormones. They are practically radiating off of you. You want her. And I am happy for that. After the way Alex treated—”

“Carmen, ya basta.”

Carmen’s eyes flicker as I hiss at her in our mother tongue, and she finally seems to feel a little of the heat coursing through my system. Her grin falters and a soft frown takes its place. She tilts her head and stares at me for a beat before she shakes it.

“Lo siento, Cat. I was just playing.”

“No need to apologize. Just… let it go, yeah?”

She nods and pats the couch beside her. I sink down and let out another deep sigh before I rest my head against her shoulder.

“So, are we still going dancing?” she asks with a soft smile. “Because you didn’t object to the bar comment.”

I let out a groan but nod anyway.