Dating Dr Delicious

The horror in her eyes had been too real to be faked. And the confrontation hadn’t gone at all the way he’d thought it would. She’d stood up to him. Tossed his accusations back at him. And she hadn’t thrown herself into his arms, begging for forgiveness.

The way Allie had, once he’d discovered her true motives for going out with him.

No, Hannah had almost looked hurt. Claiming that if she’d known who he was, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere near him. And he’d sensed that much at least was the truth.

The desolate sense of loss surprised him.

He took a deep breath and shoved the wave of self-doubt aside. Did it really matter if Hannah was telling the truth? No, because that fact changed nothing. She was still an intern in the residency program and he was still the chief of trauma surgery.

He’d learned the hard way, thanks to Allie, the perils of dating someone who worked at the same hospital. Someone you were forced to see almost every day. Where everyone knew everyone else’s business.

If he’d been smart, he would have left Minneapolis a long time ago. But he’d refused to run away. He’d taken this job because it was a promotion. Not because he couldn’t take the constant churning of the rumor mill.

In the privacy of the lounge, he let down his guard and scrubbed his hands over his face. Flirting with Hannah, buying her a drink and then spending the night with her had been completely out of character. He knew a good portion of the reason he’d acted so impulsively was due to his sheer determination to make a fresh start.

A new career in a new city, and a steadfast resolve to leave his old baggage behind once and for all. Recklessly, he’d responded to the instant attraction he’d felt with Hannah. Seeing her sailing, and meeting her at the lakeshore bar, he’d never imagined she might be connected to the hospital in some way. And he’d been secretly thrilled when she’d agreed to go home with him. They’d shared an incredible night together.

His intention of putting his past behind him and moving forward had backfired in a big way. Somehow, he’d only managed to complicate his life even further, by sleeping with his intern.

With a sigh, Jake stood and stalked out of the lounge. There was no reason to dwell on the mistake he’d made with Hannah. The more he thought about it, the more he realized she’d likely remain professional. After all, she’d been the one to sneak out that morning.

And she’d also insisted they act as if their night together had never happened.

Maybe her ability to brush him aside annoyed the hell out of him, but he was determined to remain thankful she wasn’t clinging to some ridiculous romantic notion that they were meant to be together forever.

He’d gone down that path with Allie, only to discover he couldn’t have been more wrong. After swearing off women, he’d opened his heart to Allie, only to have it ripped from his chest and stomped on. He’d managed to put his life back on track, although it hadn’t been easy.

No matter how attracted he’d been to Hannah, he wasn’t about to get hurt or be made a fool of ever again.

Satisfied that he’d wrenched Hannah out of his system, he headed to the recovery area to check on Mr. Turkow. Of course, Hannah was there, poring over the patient’s lab work. Trying to ignore her was harder than he’d anticipated, seemingly aware of every breath she took as he quickly reviewed their patient’s vitals for himself.

“He looks stable,” Hannah said. “Do you want him to go to a regular surgical floor or the ICU?”

“Definitely the ICU. You’ll need to keep a close eye on him as the next few hours are critical. He could easily continue bleeding or come down with an infection.”

“Understood,” Hannah agreed. He shouldn’t have been annoyed at her level of professionalism. “Do you want me to write the admission orders?”

He nodded, knowing he’d have time to review the orders himself, later. “And make sure to call me if there are any significant changes or if you need something.”

“Of course. I’m on call tonight, so I’ll be able to check him frequently.”

He froze. What? She was the intern on call tonight?

Perfect. That was just perfect. Because he was the attending on call tonight, too.

Did he have a black cloud hanging over his head, or what?

His pager went off. Grateful for the interruption, he glanced down to read the message from Richard, who was requesting his help in the O.R. “I have to go,” he said, avoiding Hannah’s gaze. “I’ll be in the O.R. if you need anything.”

As he scrubbed in, he couldn’t help thinking about how he’d be forced to spend the entire night with Hannah. One of the first changes he’d made as the new chief of trauma was to require that the attending physicians stayed in-house 24/7. His colleagues hadn’t been thrilled with the new requirement, but he knew that having the attending physicians readily available for trauma resuscitations and for emergency surgeries would improve their patients’ outcomes. He’d been brought in to make sure Chicago Care didn’t lose its precarious level-one trauma verification, which was scheduled to be reviewed in just six weeks. This was the first step toward reaching that goal.

So he’d made the decision and had agreed to do the first week of call. In fact, he’d taken the first week and the last week in July to be on call, since it was their busiest month with trauma patients.

Drying his hands on the sterile towels the circulating nurse provided, the impact of his decision hit him squarely in the chest. Two weeks of call in July meant he’d be working with Hannah often.

Too often.

Since avoiding her would be next to impossible, he’d have lots of practice keeping their relationship professional.

With grim determination, he could only hope he’d succeed in that goal, too.

* * *

Hannah couldn’t believe how fast her day went. Overall she thought she’d done fairly well in keeping things on a cool, professional level with Jake.

Dr. Holt. She really needed to start thinking of him as Dr. Holt.

She’d given Mr. Turkow another two units of blood and his condition had stabilized nicely. She’d also given the orders for the nurses to wean Mr. Turkow from the ventilator after she’d verified that his lungs were fully inflated following his pneumothorax. When it was time to extubate him, she called Jake just to make sure she was on the right track. Jake had immediately come up to the ICU to review everything she’d done for the patient, before agreeing with her plan.

“You’ll need to be ready to make rounds with me in fifteen minutes,” he said in a curt tone.

“Rounds?” she repeated, a little confused. Generally the surgical teams made rounds first thing in the morning. Not five o’clock in the evening.

He looked her straight in the eye. “You said you’re taking first call tonight, right?” When she nodded, he continued, “I’m the attending on call tonight as well and we need to see every patient on service so you understand my expectations.”

Oka-a-a-y, now she understood. Wasn’t it just her luck that he was the attending on call? As if it wasn’t difficult enough working with him during the day? She made sure her dismay didn’t show. “Of course. Do you want to meet in the ICU first?” Logically, she thought starting with the sickest patients made the most sense.

“No, we’ll start on the general surgical floor. The ICU patients are going to take longer to review as their medical needs are more complicated, so I generally leave them for last.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. So much for her logic. She felt as if she was fighting an uphill battle to earn Jake’s respect as a physician. Refusing to let her nervousness show, Hannah pulled out her new pack of three-by-five note cards and prepared to take good notes. As a medical student she’d learned the trick of putting each patient on a card and using them as a reference throughout the night.

Although this was the first time she’d be the one responsible for making the medical decisions. Decisions that Jake would use as a basis to critique her performance. She ignored a flutter of panic.

Actually, it was good news that the attending surgeon, even if it was Jake, would be in house all night. At least she would have backup if she got in over her head. For some reason, every time she looked for Richard, the senior resident, he was busy elsewhere.

She would have felt completely alone if not for Jake.

After copying Mr. Turkow’s information on a card, she hurried out to the general trauma surgical floor to meet Jake. Dr. Holt.

She should have been glad that he treated her like any other resident in the program, but as they made rounds on the patients, talking to the nurses and reviewing their charts, she couldn’t seem to stop searching his gaze for some sign of—what? She didn’t really know. Recognition? Acknowledgement? Support? Camaraderie?

What she got was indifferent professionalism.

He was right that the ICU patients took much longer to do rounds on. When they finished, she had a thick stack of cards with key information for each patient noted on them.

“Dr. Holt, could you tell me where the trauma-surgery call rooms are located?” she asked. She’d learned during the tour earlier that morning that each service had a group of call rooms, but she’d lost track of exactly which ones were located where.

He raised a brow. “Do you honestly think you’re going to be spending much time in your call room?” he asked with a note of sarcasm.