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“I’m sorry, you’ll all have to leave,” Margo said before she ran for the next gurney flying through the door with a woman screaming and her arm covered in blood.
The next thirty minutes went by in a blur while they treated multiple gunshot victims. Margo’s hair was tied back with the elastic of a medical mask, and she was washing her hands for the fourth time, unsure if the red on her nails was nail polish or blood.
“Hot date tonight?” Drake asked as he sidled up next to her at the long sink where they each scrubbed off the latest trauma.
“I’m supposed to attend the donor event at the Four Seasons, you?” She noticed for the first time he had slacks and a dress shirt underneath his white doctor’s coat. A much more formal style than the typical scrubs all the doctors wore in the ER.
“I’m attending the same event. Looks like you’ll be stuck with me all night,” Drake said.
“What, why? Residents never attend these things.”
“I think the director is hoping to convince me to stay with a few fancy parties.”
Her stomach sank. How was she supposed to get away from him if he was attending all the same events? If anything, she would have to spend more time with him and watch as he charmed everyone.
“Don’t worry, I’ll save you a dance,” he teased before walking away.
She was so screwed.
Chapter Ten
Drake
Drake was going to kill whoever made that red dress Margo was wearing because it was torturing him as he watched her work the ballroom. The women adored her, and the men couldn’t keep their eyes off her. The material hugged every curve, giving him, and everyone else, more than a hint at what a spectacular figure she had. The gold strappy heels she wore accented the muscles of her calves, and her long, dark locks bounced. He had an overwhelming desire to wrap that hair in his palm and drag her mouth to his.
“So you’re the plastic surgeon, turned emergency room doctor. We’ve been hearing some concerns about your talents going to waste,” one of the hospital’s longest and most generous donors told Drake, and he was forced to pull his eyes off Margo. “Care to tell me why you’re so interested in emergency medicine?”
He leveled his eyes at the older man. He was likely not the kind of person that did anything without giving it great consideration, but money always gave people the opportunity to be impulsive.
“I could tell you I wanted to help people with more than their wrinkles and fear of aging, but the truth is, I need more excitement. More opportunities to stand on that edge of death, and experience the challenge of saving a life. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, but I’m sick of the mundane elements of plastics.”
“How refreshing, an honest answer,” the man said. “Now, tell me what you know about Dr. Monroe. Her ten year contract is up soon with Mercy. What do you think of her?”
If Margo had signed a ten-year contract with Mercy that meant she needed them to help pay for med school? He had heard a few students in his class taking similar deals, but they’d needed the edge to get into medical school and help with the tuition. It was the kind of deal that got them the education but limited their ability to practice the medicine of their choice and where they would be forced to practice it. Margo came from a working-class family. Her parents had been ecstatic for her to get into medical school. They had supported her dream of attending UCLA. He knew the financial aid had been an issue, but he hadn’t known about the contract.
“Has it been ten years already?” he said, stalling to consider his words.
“In June, her contract ends. The board has been debating on offering her a new position managing the residents and recruitment. But staffing the ER is always an issue, and it’s unclear if she would even be willing to stay. Eight years in emergency medicine must take its toll,” the man said thoughtfully.
Margo must have sensed their eyes on her because her gaze found him from across the room, then flicked to the man he was speaking to. She plastered on a dazzling smile and returned her attention to the women she was talking with.
“Dr. Monroe is a brilliant physician. I think your hospital got the deal of the century getting her to commit to ten years at Mercy. More importantly she is a fantastic teacher. The residents love her, and she’s been very supportive of my time in the ER. You’d be fools to let her go, but if I were you, I would ask her exactly what she wants. The only way to keep a doctor like her is to know what they want and then counter with something better.”
“That’s quite a rave review from a plastic surgeon with your reputation.”
“Margo is the best doctor I’ve ever worked with and probably hasn’t reached her true potential yet. That’s my honest opinion. Even if it means her beating me out for a position as an attending.”
“If you have your sights set on the ER, we may just have to find a way to keep you both then.” The man smiled. “I’ll let you work on the other donors. My money always goes to Mercy,” he said before walking away.
Drake made a beeline to Margo and smiled at the women she was speaking with. “Excuse me, ladies, I’m going to borrow Dr. Monroe for a moment.”
They nodded as he cupped her elbow and guided her out onto the exterior covered terrace with heat lamps and twinkling lights.
“Drake, this isn’t a social event. We are here to schmooze.”
There weren’t any others out on the terrace, but he made sure to walk past her beyond the view from the French doors so no one would see them.
“Why did you sign a ten-year contract with Mercy, going into medical school? And come to think of it, how did you end up in emergency medicine? You always said you were hoping to go into cardiology or oncology.”
