the man’s blood, she answered Ootaka. Minimize chance of rejection or reaction. Saline could do the job of plasma for now. Oxygen depletion to traumatized tissue was best avoided, so red cells were her choice. Reasons anyone in medical school would know, let alone a fifth-year surgical resident.
But at least there was some comfort in the sameness—questions and answers accompanied all lessons, no matter what hospital or surgeon you were with. She looked up at the galley again, and this time Enzo was looking at her. Not just watching the table. When she looked up, his gaze was locked on hers. Her belly trembled.
How was she supposed to keep her eyes on the patient with him staring? Correction: staring and smirking? Or was that a grimace?
Ignore him.
With the Q&A finished, she ordered the packed cells and another bag of saline.
So he could hear them. Whatever. Not that she expected any less from her competition. Caren had warned her he could be a jerk. He’d wanted to assist. She’d seen it in his eyes when Ootaka had invited her into his OR. And what was that about him being right about the need for surgery? She had to wonder what else he’d told Ootaka after running to get there first. She should’ve run with him. Only that would’ve meant leaving Mr. Elliot—and even for a couple of minutes she couldn’t have made herself do so, knowing that neither of them would be with him.
What she needed to do was not think about him as an attractive man. Focus on the jerk, not the jaw. The arrogance. And all that jaw did was frame a smirking mouth.
Jerky, not to mention manipulative. Keep our patient alive indeed. Those words had assured she’d stay put.
But, worse, they’d made her feel important enough that she’d hardly questioned why he wasn’t riding with them in the ambulance.
They’d made her underestimate him…
Later she’d send Caren a crankygram—an email she’d no doubt check in a couple of weeks. Maybe she could find Tessa after the surgery ended to get information. See if her new friend knew Enzo’s tactics. Plot some ways to outmaneuver him, or at least figure out his usual manner of manipulation. It would certainly behoove her to know what his weaknesses were. Aside from arrogance.
Or maybe just vent. His attempt to maneuver the situation hadn’t worked out so well for him this time. Maybe she didn’t need to try to learn to do that. Maybe it was just a case of where the cream rose, and she just needed to focus on herself and… stuff. That’s what she’d like. Avoid confrontation. Be pleasant and easy to work with. Be the person that everyone liked, or at least felt no overt hostility toward.
Be exactly who she’d been before the accident. That’d be awesome.
And impossible.
Think later. Pretend Caren had been overreacting when she’d focused on how hard Kimberlyn would have to fight for the fellowship.
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