A shiver goes down my spine. He sounds like the old guard, probably in his sixties. A surgical God who’s not willing to bend an inch from his path. She’s right when telling me to learn his demands. I’ve met doctors like him before, and as long as I do my job and keep things as he likes, there won’t be any problems.
” I’m sure we’ll have a great working relationship.”
” If you encounter any problems you can go to HR or find me here every day; if I’m not in, my secretary will be here to note your issue.”
She didn’t say anything else, just walked out the door and signaled me to go the same way. We walked around and she showed me where everything was what floor was for what department, and waited for me to change into scrubs.
I was given a speech about protocol, fraternization, and codes. I had to write down the colors of codes and what they mean to make sure I had them memorized.
” I know the European color-coding system is slightly different so be sure you know your codes.”
” Yes, of course.”
” You know what code you can call without a doctor on sight?”
Yes, I do, the most threatening of them all.
” Code Blue, a patient requiring immediate resuscitation.” When a heart stops and we have to bring it back.
Finally, we get to the second floor. That’s where all the operating rooms are and where I’ll be most of the time. The chief shows me the supply rooms and the layout of the operating rooms. I still have to consult with the sanitary team on how to prepare the OR according to the hospital standards, but that can be worked out later.
” You have to be quick at scrubbing in and bringing all the supplies in case of emergency surgery...” she says and keeps on walking toward the end of the long corridor. “And this is the operating floor. The rooms are numbered starting from the elevator up, It’s a really simple system, you’ll catch on in no time.”
We stop walking when we spot a man sitting on a bench, head pressed to the wall.
He looks like he just got out of the OR.
He sees us too, first looking at the chief and then his eyes stop on me, freezing my reactions.
Who is this gorgeous man? A doctor here? I don’t mind if he is. He’s tall
and handsome, but not dark at all. His light brown hair, shaved jaw, and green eyes make his face luminous and open. The way he looks in those scrubs is also delicious. The top is very fit on his big biceps and broad chest.
Who is this man?
“ ...And this is Doctor Zachary Ford. He’ll be your attending, but you might be required to go to other surgeries, depending on the needs we have. „
Around the corner walks Chief Sadin with a stunning blonde on her tail. Maybe one of the reporters writing a piece on the free clinic. I’d like her to take my interview at any time. Damn, she looks good.
” ...And this is Doctor Zachary Ford. He’ll be your attending, but you might be required to go to other surgeries, depending on the needs we have.”
The Chief looks at me with a frown so deep I think it might leave a scar.
“Dr. Ford, shouldn’t you be doing this tour?”
Shit. She’s the new nurse?
“I was...”
“Of course, you were. You always are! Cut the crap and take it from here. I took the liberty of clearing your schedule for the rest of the day, Doctor Shaw is gonna take care of your consults.”
She’s joking, right? I have four more hours on my shift and she tells me to play the guide the entire time?
“Chief...”
“Goodbye, Dr. Ford. Show her the MRI machine.”
She hands me a paper file then turns around and leaves me with the hot piece.
Damn. She’s hot, but right now I hate her guts.
I knew this woman can’t be anything but a pain in my very fine ass.
She blinks rapidly waiting for me to start the conversation. It reminds me of a scared deer caught in a car’s headlights. Yeah, be scared sweetheart, I’ll eat you up and spit you out in a matter of days.
I immediately proceed to block all adjacent thoughts about eating her out. It’s out of the cards. She’s very beautiful but you don’t shit where you eat. It’s not worth the headache. Things would have been different if we met outside the hospital doors. I would have pursued, yes. I have a thing for blondes with blue eyes and hers look so fuckin’ amazing, like a million stars dancing in a clear sky. She’s tall enough to reach my mouth without having me bend down, her form is voluptuous, rounded in all the right places. All woman. Yes, I would have pursued it. Relentlessly.
I clear my throat, locking that little what-if about my new scrub nurse in a box and placing it in the back of my mind forever. Time to get to business and get this shit over with.
“Ok, miss...” I look at her file trying to make sense of it with not so much luck.” Boo...what? You have to spell it out for me.”
“Umm, it’s pronounced ”Boo-dro”, London Boudreaux.”
Look at little miss blondie with her fancy ass name. I swear to God if I got stuck with some bored heiress or some shit, I’m gonna lose it.
“That’s a weird name to have in Chicago. Where are you from?”
“I’m French.”
French is as bad as heiress.
“You’re from France and your name is London?”
“Yes...”
I look at her file again, and I snort in my fist. That’s kinda dumb if you ask me. London from France.
“What’s so funny?” She snaps at me like a rattlesnake.
I’m surprised for a solitary second - I wouldn’t have guessed she has so much gut. At first sight, I would have guessed that this London Boudreaux is the type that faints when yelled at.
When the surprise is gone, all that’s left is my annoyance. I will not take this tone, not in my OR. and not from a nurse. My face grows dark and I frown, towering over her with my arms crossed at my chest.
It works, she melts like ice cream in the sun and desperately searches for something, anything to fix her sight on, as long as it’s not in my eyes.
” I mean...I’m sorry, doctor. It’s a family name. It was my mom’s.”
Was, so her mom passed. Well, sorry, not sorry! I’m not a fucking fortune teller and she needs to keep her emotions in check so we can do our jobs.
” I see. Next time maybe you want to refrain from raising your voice at me. And I still find the name funny.”
Maybe I should have left that last part out, but it’s humorous to toy with her.
London learns fast because I can see the fury in her eyes but not a word comes out of those lush lips. Good.
“I don’t get why people name their kids after cities.” Now I’m pushing it and I know it.
“Oh, really? What’s the deal with your name anyway... Zachary Ford? Which one is
the first and which one is the last?”
It will be a pleasure to teach this little creature discipline.
“Ford is my last name.” My voice booms inside the walls. “You’ll address me as Dr. Ford at all times, not Ford, not Zachary, and don’t even think about calling me Zach. We’re not here to make friends. And as long as your name is concerned? I usually yell ’nurse‘ and whoever is closer has to come. That’d better be you, because you work under me.”