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It was an unspoken mistake. Or maybe not a mistake, but a bad decision. I needed to try to keep my distance from him as much as possible if I was going to help him with his case. If that PI caught us kissing, or if the hospital got wind of it, he’d be totally screwed, and I doubt my career would go anywhere after that. I had too much at stake in this to risk it, all for some stupid kiss, some stupid desire.
Even still, that kiss, god, that stupid kiss. I dreamed about it: soft, but not too soft, he tasted like apples and mineral water. I wanted to run my hands through his thick hair and let him spread my legs wide, let him kiss my neck, strip off my top, get me naked right there on the vibrating dryer, let him take me, every inch of me, without hesitation, with wild abandon.
But god, it was stupid, so very stupid.
Between procedures, I spent my time with the other surgical residents.
“I gotta ask,” Greg said one afternoon while we waited outside of a surgical suite for the others to finish washing up. “Is he as intimidating as everyone says?”
I didn’t need to ask who he meant. “Sometimes,” I said. “He can be a little intense during operations, I guess. The nurses all seem kind of scared of him, but also sort of in awe? It’s a really weird dynamic.”
“I’ve heard the nurses talking shit about him,” he said, laughing. “Seriously, I think some of them hate him.”
“I bet they do, but I don’t know. He gets a bad reputation. I don’t think it’s entirely justified.”
“Are you learning much? I mean, I barely see you two together unless you’re standing in.”
“Tons,” I said. “I’m learning more about how the hospital runs with you guys, but he’s teaching me about surgery, and it’s kind of amazing.”
“I’m jealous,” he admitted.
“Maybe we can switch one day.”
“Really?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Absolutely not. You don’t really know Dr. Hood at all, do you?”
He grinned at me and shrugged, and the other guys came out before he could push for more.
It was hard to talk about Piers with the other residents. They asked questions like that all the time, about his skill in the operating room and about his notoriously bad attitude, but the more time I spent with Piers, the more I thought all that stuff was overblown—and way beside the point.
Some things still bothered me. I didn’t see Piers around his patients very often, and only from a distance so far. I didn’t know what kind of bedside manner he had, and I guessed it was fairly bad, if he was keeping me from it. Still, his reputation in the hospital was good, despite the attitude, and I understood why. He had by far the best outcomes of any surgeon around.
I left the hospital at the end of my shift having spent maybe ten minutes with Piers all day. That wasn’t entirely uncommon, though I could tell the other doctors resented it. I walked toward my apartment, hands in the pockets of my coat, head down, oblivious to the world—when someone came up beside me, and matched my stride.
I looked over, ready to tell whoever it was to go to hell—and found the private detective smiling back at me.
He wore the same outfit as before: windbreaker, khaki pants, hat pulled low. “Hello, Dr. Court,” he said.
“Sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
His smile didn’t waver. “Theodore Block, but you can call me Ted.”
“All right, Ted.” I didn’t slow my pace and barely looked in his direction. I felt like I was talking to an enemy of the state somehow, like I was being disloyal to Piers, but that was absurd. If this man wanted to ask me questions, I could answer them. I had nothing to hide.
“I was hoping we could talk for a moment, if you have the time?”
“I’m sorry, I’m on my way home after a long shift.”
“It won’t take more than a moment.”
“You can talk while we walk.”
He chuckled but didn’t slow. “Very well then. You are aware of the litigation between my clients and Dr. Hood, is that correct?”
“I know the Tippett family is suing him, if that’s what you mean.”
“Then you know that his character is very much at the center of this case. My clients mean to portray him as difficult and reckless, as the kind of man with an ego problem, a danger to everyone around him. I believe that you are now closer to him than anyone else in that hospital, and your input on this case would be incredibly helpful to my clients.”
“I have no interest in helping you or your clients.” I reached Broad Street and had to stop for a light. Ted hovered next to me, and I wished I could tell him to go away, but that felt like it would be even worse.
