“One of the patients you sent up had some breathing tube problems. Luckily, I fixed it for you.”
He opened his mouth and closed it again before scrubbing his hands over his face. “Excuse me? You fixed it for me?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“What was wrong, exactly, that you think you’ve fixed for me?” His tone had moved from confused to scathing.
“The breathing tube was incorrectly positioned into one of the patient’s lungs.”
Jun barked a small laugh. “And you think I did that during surgery?”
I blew out a sigh as I picked up my tablet and scrolled for the patient notes. “Look. Here she is, Lesley Adams.”
He scanned the notes, and I could almost see his blood pressure rising. “Right.” He glanced up, his eyes appearing bigger behind his glasses. “I remember her. I got called into another surgery so left my intern to finish up.” He hesitated before rushing on. “But my interns always know exactly what they’re doing.”
“Mistakes still happen, and we need to trace this back.” I sounded abrupt and rude, but I didn’t mean it. I was just stating fact, not applying blame.
Although, if I had been applying blame, it wouldn’t have been to my team.
Jun sighed, his shoulders slumping as even more fatigue seemed to fill him. “Let’s go over the surgical log then. And I’d like to check on the patient, too.”
“Sure.” I would’ve wanted to do the same things in the same position.
We walked to the patient’s room, and Jun checked her breathing, tapping his stethoscope against her chest for far longer than he really needed to, then seemed to just watch her for a few moments before turning to me.
“She’s okay now?”
I nodded. “Yeah. We got to her in time.” Why the hell couldn’t I say just one thing that sounded reassuring?
Even if the words were meant to be, my tone sounded sharp and robotic. Surely I could afford to be the bigger person in a situation I hadn’t created? I’d done it all the time growing up. It was peacekeeping 101.
He exhaled a long breath. “Let’s check that surgical log.”
As we returned to the nurses’ station, he pulled up the record of the surgery on his tablet. “Huh.” His face paled. “There is a note here about reduced breath sounds on the left.” He scrolled up and down, his fingers moving over the screen. “And no one seems to have addressed it. Fuck.” He thumped his fist on the desk but kept his voice low. “Fuck.”
“It’s fine, dude.” I never saw Jun worked up like this.
His face paled and he didn’t seem able to meet my gaze. “That could have gone way south if you hadn’t figured out the problem.”
I leaned back and waited for my apology, the one for Jun assuming it had been my team’s fault. Surely it was the next thing that would come tripping off his tongue. Instead, he continued to scroll through the notes and shake his head.
“Uh, Jun?” I waited for him to look at me before I spoke again. “A leader needs to learn how to be accountable and take responsibility for the mistakes of their team. Part of that means knowing when to apologize.”
He narrowed his eyes into a glare. “For fuck’s sake, Kairo. Get down off that high horse before you fucking fall off instead,” he hissed. Then he stormed away toward the elevators, probably back to his own floor to lick his wounds in private.
I grinned. Needling Jun and knowing I could irritate him shouldn’t have brought me pleasure…but it did.
Debbie walked into the nurses’ station behind me. “Well, I haven’t seen foreplay like that since the last time I had make-up sex.” She grabbed her water and took a long, slow drink. “You have a very interesting flirting technique, Dr. Caldwell.”
I chuckled. “Believe me, When I decide to flirt with someone, the moment will be so hot I’ll burn half the floor. Not just Jun’s ego.” I leaned toward her and batted my eyelashes, and she laughed.
I liked to flirt as much as the next guy, but Jun was straight, and I certainly never flirted with straight men.
“You’re off base here, though. No flirting over patient treatment plans or trawling through surgical logs.” I shuddered. “Nope. That is not my idea of a good time.” I checked my watch. “And that’s me nearly done. I just have a couple of things to add to the system. I’ll do it in my office then head home.”
“Sure. See you soon.” Debbie gave me a quick wave before she bustled off again.
I wandered slowly to my office and smiled to myself. Surely there were no other people who thought Jun and I were actively flirting when we just couldn’t stand each other.
Jun
Monday
I glanced around the parking lot. Kairo’s car didn’t seem to be here, so hopefully that signaled a peaceful shift, without the constant presence of Mr. Perfect. I gritted my teeth at the mere thought of him.
With his storybook blond hair and blue eyes, he was like the Prince Charming of any story. Only he was my troll under the bridge, always popping out to ruin my day.
Yesterday’s incident with Lesley Adams’s breathing tube would definitely count as a point against me in the race to the promotion—Kairo would probably ensure that. I shook my head.
I’d already told my parents I had the job, so I had to make it happen. There was just no other way.
I walked briskly across the cement, my shoes tapping out my hurry to get to work and get my day started. I’d be double- and triple-checking the work of my interns, that was for sure. From the logs, it seemed like maybe Lesley’s tube had shifted when she was moved, but I definitely needed to pay closer attention to training and teaching if no one had thought to follow up the altered breath sounds.
Once inside, I breathed in the familiar smells of my workplace and took in the usual atmosphere—an awkward mix of subdued and busy. The hustle and bustle of the staff overlaid everything, but visitors and patients were mostly quiet. There was an odd kind of respect for sickness and healing that worked almost at odds with the frantic nature of some of my shifts.
I dumped my bag in the corner of my closet-sized office. Being joint head physician with Kairo had its perks, apparently. I now had a space to call my own, although it didn’t function as much more than an oversized locker most days. I rarely sat in here to work because there was always someone needing to be cut open.
It was sad but true.
I logged on to the hospital computer system and checked my email, half expecting a reprimand from Dr. Crow for me or one of my team, or maybe he’d skip anything like that and just award chief of staff straight to Kairo. He was probably the chief’s Mr. Perfect, too. No. Make that doctor.
Dr. Perfect.
I huffed a sigh. But there were no emails from Dr. Crow or anyone else. Not even Kairo had sent a gloating follow-up in the guise of concern for training or my well-being.
I’d switched to checking through my planned surgeries for the day when my phone buzzed with an emergency. I headed out the door to the nurses’ station.
“Emergency appendectomy just arrived.” Alice looked at me. “We’re prepping the OR now.”
I nodded. “I’ll go and scrub in.”