Scarlet’s business. She walked to her locker and worked the combination lock, already running late.
The woman sniffled and Scarlet couldn’t ignore her. “Are you okay?” she asked, walking over to where the woman sat.
The woman must not have noticed Scarlet’s presence because she jumped.
“I’m sorry,” Scarlet said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I shouldn’t be in here,” the woman said with a sweet southern twang, looking sad.
“It’s not like your presence is disturbing anyone.” Scarlet scanned the otherwise empty room. “I’m Scarlet Miller.” She held out her hand. “I work in the NICU.”
The woman looked up and with a small smile she shook Scarlet’s hand. “I’m Layla Woods, new head of pediatrics.”
“I’ve heard about you,” Scarlet said.
Layla gasped and brought her hand to her heart. “Already?” She looked about to cry.
“Good things. All good things,” Scarlet hurried to add. “From Dr. Donaldson, a neonatologist who works on my unit. He said he was on your interview committee.”
Layla seemed to relax.
“He thinks you’re perfect for the position.”
“I wanted it so badly.” Layla’s blue eyes locked on hers. “It was supposed to be my chance for a new start. But I had no idea...” She stopped.
“This is about Dr. Rodriguez.”
Layla let out a breath. “It’s already spread around the hospital. I can’t do this.” She stood and reached for her purse. “Not again. I have to—”
“Wait.” Scarlet stepped in front of her. “I mentioned Dr. Rodriguez because he nearly knocked me to the ground in his hurry to leave the locker room. The women’s locker room, might I add.”
“We had an argument,” Layla said quietly, sitting back down. “He followed me in.” She touched her lips again. “Five years,” she whispered. “And nothing has changed.”
This was like piecing together a puzzle on a game show. Scarlet sat down beside Layla. “I’ve got a few minutes if you want to talk about it,” she lied. Because she didn’t have a few minutes, she needed to get up to her unit to evaluate two new overnight admissions, a critically ill newborn with congenital diaphragmatic hernia and a struggling little boy born at twenty-nine weeks to a heroine addicted mother, now suffering from neonatal abstinence syndrome.
Luckily her staff, comprised of some of the highest skilled clinicians in the country, functioned competently and independently. And they knew how to reach her if they needed her. “Maybe it’d help me to understand if you started from the beginning.”
Layla nodded. “Alex and I used to work together. We had a....thing.” She looked away as if embarrassed.
“It happens,” Scarlet said. Not to her, but to plenty of her co-workers, working long hours in stressful situations, experiencing instances of wretched loss and sorrow interspersed with jubilant miracles of recovery, men and woman needing to share solace and unadulterated joy in the arms of others who understood the constant demands of the medical profession.
“A little boy died,” Layla said. “He was our patient. His parents sued the hospital and Alex.” She looked down at the ground. “My name got dragged into the case since I was the one who requested Alex as consult. Our relationship got called into question and now people at this hospital have found out. I can’t escape it.”
“I’m guessing you both were cleared of any wrongdoing if you and Dr. Rodriguez both made it through the rigorous hiring process here at Angels’.”
“Innocence doesn’t matter to the gossips,” Layla insisted. “Being found guilty in the court of public opinion can be just as damaging to one’s professional reputation as an actual ‘guilty of malpractice’ verdict in the courts.”
“Not here,” Scarlet told her. “The residents of New York City and the surrounding areas trust this hospital and its administration to employ top quality medical personnel. Hundreds of physicians apply for jobs here every year. Only a very small percentage of them make it past the first stage of the interview process.”
“But—”
Scarlet didn’t let her finish. “People are going to talk. Don’t let a bunch of gossipers determine your future. Administration would not have chosen you if you weren’t the best person available to head up Pediatrics. If this is your fresh start, if this is the job you want, don’t be so quick to give it up.”
Layla reached out to take her hand. “Thank you.”
They sat there in silence until Layla said, “He kissed me.” She ran her fingers over her bottom lip, again, mindlessly. “We had a bad break.” She looked at Scarlet. “How is it possible that one kiss can erase five years apart like they never happened? How can one kiss make me want a man who is totally wrong for me?”
Scarlet had spent the night pondering the exact same thing. “You still care for him.”
“I don’t want to,” Layla said quietly.
Scarlet’s cell phone rang. She stood, “I’ve got to get back to work,” and held out her hand. “It was nice to meet you, Dr. Layla Woods.” When Layla shook her hand Scarlet added. “On behalf of the NICU staff, welcome to Angel’s. We’re happy to have you here.”
Layla smiled. “Thank you.”
* * *
Finally up on the NICU Scarlet retrieved her stack of messages and found her charge nurse, Deb, at the rear nurses’ station. “I’m here,” she said, pulling out a chair to sit beside her. “What can I do?”
“Our transport team is en route to St. Vincent’s Hospital to pick up a twenty-six weeker. Estimated return at ten o’clock. Labor and delivery reported a mom at thirty-three weeks with severe pre-eclampsia is on her way to the OR for an emergency C-section. And we have another pre-term multiple birth scheduled for eleven o’clock. That’s five new admissions and we only have three incubators available.”
“Contact discharge planning and find out where they’re at with the coordination of home care nursing visits and durable medical equipment for Simms in twenty-two and Berg in twelve,” Scarlet said. “We have two more scheduled for discharge today. I’ll see what I can do to move things along. Anything else I need to know?”
Deb smiled. “I took care of baby Joey’s morning feeding, like you asked, and she took a few sucks on the nipple. She’s getting there.”
Scarlet’s day brightened considerably.
Deb looked around then leaned in and whispered, “Did you do it?”
Scarlet nodded. So far, Deb and the social worker assigned to Joey’s case were the only people to know about Scarlet’s application to become a foster/adoptive parent.
“She’s a lucky little girl,” Deb said.
“If
