stay and monitor Ms. Bayberry through the night.
The cafeteria had limited service so late, but at least she could get a sandwich from a machine and coffee. When she entered the dimly lit cafeteria there was one other soul there, hunched over a table, eating a pathetic-looking sandwich and nursing what looked like a generic can of diet soda.
Walk away.
Only she couldn’t, because she was a weak fool. “You did good in there today.”
Sam looked up. “Dr. Walker? I thought your shift was over?”
“I could say the same thing about yours as well, Dr. Napier.”
Sam shrugged. “I made a promise. I’m going to stay here and monitor her for the night.”
“Funny, that’s what I thought I was going to do.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow. “An attending? Usually attendings fob those kinds of jobs off on us lowly residents or even lower interns.”
Mindy chuckled. “Mind if I join you?”
“No, not at all.”
Mindy sank down into the hard plastic chair and let out a sigh of relief. She hadn’t realized how long she’d been standing.
“Is the patient’s husband with her?”
Mindy nodded. “He is. She’s still quite groggy, but in stable condition.”
“Good. Are you planning on keeping her in the hospital for a while?”
“Yep. She needs to heal. She’s had major surgery and is pregnant with twins, which adds an extra burden on the body. I’ll probably keep her here until those babies are ready to be born.”
“That’s a long time.”
Mindy shrugged. “The protein in her blood was a little high for my liking and as I gave her an injection of cortocosteriods the chances that she could develop pre-eclampsia are slightly higher now. I’d rather have her here, where I can watch her.”
“Now, that I didn’t know,” Sam remarked, as he slid the uneaten half of his sandwich toward her.
“What?” Mindy asked, gladly taking the sandwich.
“The risk of pre-eclampsia and the ACS.”
“Any time you give a pregnant woman a drug it’s risky. When you add the stress of twins, well… Mindy trailed off. “We’ll keep an eye on her.”
“I will. You should go home and sleep. You look like you didn’t get much sleep last night.” And then he winked, causing her to blush.
“That was inappropriate, Dr. Napier.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. When I get tired I get a little punchy and, besides, you’re eating my sandwich.”
Mindy chuckled. “It’s terrible.”
Sam shrugged. “It’s nutrition, sort of. I lived off vending-machine sandwiches as a kid.”
“Really? How random.”
Sam shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“You should go home, Sam. That’s an order.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Are we on a first-name basis now?”
No, they weren’t. Not since they’d spent the night together, which had been last night. She’d made it clear that she didn’t trust him, that their one night of passion was to be forgotten. It had never happened.
Yet, sitting here with him in an empty cafeteria after a stressful surgery, worrying about whether or not they would have to deliver two babies who probably wouldn’t make it, caused her to let her guard down.
“What was that song you were singing?” she asked, changing the subject.
Sam chuckled and then ran his fingers through his hair. “It was ‘Huis, Huis air an Each’. Just a simple song my father would sing to my twin brothers. It used to calm them, thought I would give it a shot. I’m actually surprised I remembered the words.”
“It was beautiful. Wish I knew the words.”
Sam smiled, those blue eyes twinkling in the dim light, and then the smile faded and he looked away. “Well, I’m glad it worked.”
“Me too.” Mindy swallowed the last of the sandwich, which stuck in her throat as silence descended between them. “Well, I’d better go check on Ms. Bayberry.”
Sam shook his head. “Go home. I’ll round on her tonight.”
“Don’t you have a home to go to?”
“It’s just a flat in a brownstone overrun by other surgeons. Most will be here tonight anyhow, and I don’t fancy riding the subway back to Brooklyn tonight.”
Mindy nodded. “Well, make sure you get some sleep tonight. I’ll be starting my rounds at six in the morning.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll be there. Goodnight, Dr. Walker.”
“Goodnight, Dr. Napier.”
Mindy got up and hurried out of the cafeteria, not looking back even though she could feel his gaze on her, watching her walk away.
This was going to be difficult. Everything about him drew her in—the compassion he had for his patients, his talent, the air of mystery about him.
He’s off-limits.
And she had to keep telling herself that. She had to keep reminding herself that Sam was off-limits. She was his teacher.
Not that there was a specific rule about attendings, residents and interns, but it would be detrimental to Sam’s career if people thought he was sleeping his way to the top. She should know, rumors had spread about her. After word had got out about Dean and Owen, the two people she’d trusted and worked in partnership with, it had destroyed her reputation in one fell swoop.
How could a patient put faith in someone who had put their faith in the hands of people who had duped her for so long?
Words and knowledge had power. If used by the wrong people, it could destroy everything Sam had worked for and she didn’t want that for him. If today was any indication Mindy had no doubt that Sam was going to be a brilliant pediatric surgeon and she wasn’t going to let a rumor about the two of them destroy that.
So she had to be careful about how she addressed him.
She couldn’t let herself slip into familiarity.
She had to keep her distance from him and not get sucked in by the spell he seemed to be able to cast over her. She was made of stronger stuff than that; at least she thought she was. Although Dean and Owen had lied to her for so long, so what did she know?
Mindy stopped
