Fake it then Read online

Page 10


  “Wow, I mean, thank you Doctor. That means a lot.”

  “However,” he continued, “your bedside manner is a bit cold.” This took Erica by surprise. While she held the doctor in high regard, he was in no way her supervisor.

  “With all due respect, I think my bedside manner is adequate for the situation.”

  “Nurse Silva, it’s simply an observation. Your older patients deserve the same courtesy you showed to that little girl. Even if they are frustrating,” he added with a small but rare smile. It caused Erica’s chest to tighten and she bit the inside of her cheek.

  “Understood, I’ll keep that in mind,” she responded, her ego a bit deflated. She had never put much stock into what others said about her. Sure, she could be a little harsher than necessary, but she got results. She had a high success rate, especially in regards to her younger patients. Dr. Emerson’s concerns however gnawed at her.

  “Your hair looks nice today,” he added a bit awkwardly, his voice low and rushed. Erica wasn’t even quite sure she heard him correctly. Dr. Emerson walked inside the room, leaving Erica out in the hallway. A few whispering nurses caught her attention, and she shot them an unamused smirk. A blonde receptionist in purple scrubs came between the two and gave Erica a discreet wink.

  “Don’t you ladies have someone to stitch up?” she suggested, shooing them back to work. While not actively in charge of anyone, the blonde had a commanding presence, and most were inclined to listen to her.

  “Thanks Lana,” Erica mumbled, walking over to her only friend in the hospital. Erica didn’t find much time or patience for friends, but Lana was a special exception. They had met Erica’s first day at Grace Clinic. Lana was the ER receptionist, and had been kind enough to answer all the many questions Erica had prepared. They had been close for the past six years, and Lana witnessed Erica grow from a timid rookie into a ‘medical force of nature.’ However, she seemed to be the only one who could remind Erica not to take herself too seriously.

  “Not a problem,” Lana grinned. “Trust me, they’re just jealous because Emerson has never shown them any special attention.”

  “Do you think he’s right?” Erica questioned, chewing on the end of her pencil; an unfortunate habit she had developed in nursing school.

  “The part about you being good with kids, or the part about you being off putting to everyone else?” Lana joked. Erica gave her signature scowl, earning a light giggle from her companion. “I’m messing with you. So you’re not the friendliest nurse, who cares? You get results and living people. Besides, if you were any nicer you’d have more friends, and I’m not too keen on sharing you.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Erica muttered. She snuck a glance over to the more gregarious nurses, huddled together or laughing with patients.

  “Just speaking my truth. Besides, I think he just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

  “Oh hush,” Erica snapped. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “You didn’t see the way he stared at your curves as he walked away,” Lana replied. Erica rolled her eyes, attempting to quell the delicate heat emanating from her abdomen.

  “Get your eyes checked.” Before Lana could continue this embarrassing dialogue, Erica’s pager sounded loudly, alerting her to an arriving ambulance.

  “Saved by the beep,” Lana teased. “Go be Wonder Woman.”

  Erica grinned and briskly made her way to the ambulance bay to receive the incoming patient. Nurse Kramer was already waiting as the emergency vehicle pulled into the loading dock.

  “Dispatch sent them here,” she began, her voice bored. She was in her late forties, years of ER work effectively numbing her and making her stoic. “A male in his 60s, possible stroke.” The ambulance pulled up in a flurry of flashing red and white lights. Two paramedics exited out of the doors, wheeling a fully conscious older gentleman who was chuckling easily. Erica recognized the female paramedic, but her male counterpart was a very new face.

  “All I’m saying is, your wife is a lucky woman,” the male paramedic jokes, giving a play punch to the older man’s arm.

  “Oh sonny, I’m the lucky one. What a way to go, huh?” he replied with an amused smile. Erica shot the newcomer a quizzical look. Nurse Kramer spoke hurriedly with the female paramedic as Erica evaluated the partner. He was young, around twenty-five or so, with thick black hair and round brown eyes. He continued to laugh with the older gentleman and Erica nearly scoffed at the lack of professionalism.

  “Mr. Richardson, age 66. We were worried he was having a stroke, but we now suspect it was a TIA.”

  “Brought on by?” Nurse Kramer pressed.

  “Adverse reaction to Viagra, the old dog,” the male paramedic responded.

  “Hey, I’m old, not dead, junior,” the older man retaliated playfully.

  “Glad to see he’s stable at least,” Erica responded tightly. Nurse Kramer proceeded to usher the older man into the emergency room.

  “I’m Grayson,” the new paramedic greeted, offering his hand to Erica. He smiled widely at her, dimples punctuating his cheeks.

  “What in the world was that?” Erica asked in near disgust.

  “What?” he inquired, the smug smile still plastered on his face. Erica crossed her arms defiantly, her blue eyes harsh and challenging.

  “I would hardly call that interaction appropriate?”

  “Oh, well you had to be there,” he responded, his eyes mischievous.

  “Okay then, enlighten me.” Grayson sighed dramatically, humoring her.

  “So we walk in,” he began, his hands already moving with his words. There was a glimmer in his eyes as he spoke, relaying the story. “And Mr. Richardson is on the floor, covered in whipped cream and chocolate syrup. His wife, dressed in a retro waitress outfit, is flitting around nervously as he’s laughing. Upon seeing us he goes, ‘I bet this must be a sweet surprise.’” Grayson chuckled, clearly amused with his story.

  “Cute,” Erica bit back, unimpressed with the lack of etiquette on both men’s parts.

  “Thanks, you should see me out of my uniform,” he said with a wink. Erica rolled her eyes hard, saying nothing. “Besides, I find if you joke with them, it keeps them relaxed.”

  “And that’s your professional opinion?” she asked, turning to leave. Grayson’s partner honked the horn of the ambulance, calling from the driver’s seat.

  “Let’s go Martinez, it’s not Happy Hour!”

  “Well, nice to meet you Nurse Sunshine,” he called out to her.

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

  “But you have such a radiant smile! What else could I possibly call you?” Before she could respond, the ambulance doors shut and pulled away, leaving her motionless on the loading dock. Who in the hell was that, and where did he get the nerve?

  “Grow up,” she huffed, before walking back into the hospital. As she attempted to complete her shift as always, her coworkers seemed all abuzz about the new paramedic. Around every corner, between every patient, she couldn’t hear anything other than speculations on Grayson Martinez.

  “I heard he just transferred; some serious drama went down at his old station,” whispered one nurse in the cafeteria.

  “Did you catch those dimples, a girl could melt from those!” gushed another in the locker room.

  “Well I heard he used to be an exotic dancer!” All of these comments earned snort from Erica, clearly unimpressed with not only Grayson, but her coworkers.

  “Oh please, you must admit he’s rather intriguing Erica,” Nurse Jones shot back, twisting a curl around her finger.

  “Hmm, a hot shot paramedic thinking he’s God’s gift to women? Nothing we haven’t seen before,” Erica responded sarcastically.

  “Oh I forgot, Erica likes her men a little older and in a white coat,” Nurse Jones teased, glancing at Dr. Emerson who had just emerged from a patient’s room.

  “I’ve got patients to check on, or have you forgotten that’s what we’re paid for?”

  “Stick i
n the mud,” Nurse Jones muttered under her breath.

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

  “Good morning, Sunshine,” Lana greeted with a wide grin. Erica grumbled at her, adjusting her mint green scrubs. She was more inclined to classify 3am as the middle of the night. She hated how at all hours, no matter the shift, Lana appeared so bright and easy.

  “Do NOT call me that,” Erica snapped, sipping from her coffee cup. The bitter liquid seeped over her tongue, effectively scorching the roof of her mouth.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Can only a certain paramedic call you that? And since when do you drink coffee?”

  “How did you hear about that?” Erica asked, ignoring the coffee comment. Lana turned back to her computer with a sly smirk, the clicks of keys punctuating the unusually empty emergency room.

  “Oh you know, nurses talk, doctors gossip, and I hear everything.” Erica rubbed her temples and slowly walked over to Lana; the fluorescents giving her a worse headache than usual. Lana appeared absorbed in her work, but Erica knew better. Lana once told her, I can multitask like an octopus on Adderall.

  “Martinez has only been here a week, and he’s already giving me problems.”

  “Oh no, a handsome young stud is paying you some attention. Might as well find a new job,” Lana retorted, her fingers performing the tarantella across her keyboard.

  “I think you mean, a reckless newbie likes to step on my toes and try to distract me from my job.”

  The past week had proven more than frustrating for Erica. Not only did Grayson Martinez quite literally step on her four times, but he was rough and loud. She hated the way he rolled in gurneys, as if he were trying to win a drag race. She hated the dumb jokes he’d tell the patients, distracting them from her questions. She hated his nonchalant attitude towards emergencies; as if he couldn’t comprehend the gravity of the situations he was wheeling the patients towards. She hated how sometimes he would linger; flirting with the nurses or watching her evaluate a patient. And most of all she hated the ridiculous nickname he had bestowed on her.

  “And what aspects of him do you find distracting? Could it be those smoldering eyes? Or is it his thick grababble hair?” Erica couldn’t fight the blush rising up her throat. Of course Lana was right; Grayson Martinez had a sexiness about him that Erica had been fighting to ignore. Though she found it easy to forget once he opened his mouth.

  “His lack of professionalism actually. And I’m not the only one who thinks that by the way, not that I owe you an explanation.”

  “Oh really, and who else agrees with you?”

  “Dr. Emerson,” Erica muttered under her breath. Perhaps the only other person in the hospital who hadn’t fallen for the paramedic’s ‘charms.’

  “Oh,” Lana began, actually looking away from the screen, “now that’s interesting. Quite a coincidence that he doesn’t approve of the other person in the hospital that finds you cute.”

  “Shut up,” Erica groaned, turning on her heels to retreat down the hall. As she approached the patient rooms, she could feel the grogginess melt away as her mind began to sharpen in anticipation. She loved working in the ER; each day was different and she always felt like she was truly making a difference. Each patient was a puzzle, a uniquely crafted enigma made for her to crack. She just had to pay attention to the clues.

  “Nurse Silva, I need you in room 201, stat!” Erica’s head snapped to the side to see Dr. Emerson running towards her. She raced after him without a word as they approached the patient’s room.

  “She’s coding! I came in to give her medications, and I don’t know what’s happening,” relayed a frantic young nurse, only about 22 with wide green eyes.

  “What did you give her?” Erica asked as she began to set up the defibrillator.

  “It was um, 3 mg for the acute pain. 3 mg of morphine,” the young nurse stammered out.

  “Was she on any other medications?” Dr. Emerson inquired, pushing down on the patient’s chest. Erica hurriedly readied the paddles and began to place them in position.

  “No, her chart didn’t say anything about that. She came in for multiple fractures in her left leg, but she was talking. She said she wasn’t on any other medication.”

  “Ready, Doctor?” Erica asked, her tone far more controlled than her rookie counterpart.

  “Ready. Clear!” She pressed the button, watching carefully as the volts traveled through the unconscious woman. The room remained silent and she gave a glance to Dr. Emerson. He nodded his head curtly. “Clear!” The woman’s body twitched but displayed no other signs of movement. The younger nurse looked close to tears as she bit harshly on her lip. Once more, I can feel it, Erica thought to herself. Her stomach was tight, the hair on her arms beginning to prickle. Dr. Emerson licked his lips and gave a final, “Clear!” They waited in earnest, desperate for any sign of success. The patient’s heart monitor began to beep again, the pulse slow, but present. Dr. Emerson leaned down to check her breathing.

  “Nurse Jordan,” Erica began, turning to the pale nurse. She glanced quickly at the patient’s chart, attempting to discover what could have caused this in an otherwise healthy woman. “Run some tests. Check her system for antidepressants?” The question was more to Dr. Emerson.

  “Ma’am?” the young nurse asked, her brows furrowed.

  “Her chart here says she’s active in the military. Oftentimes those in the military are concerned on the effects a known mental illness will have on their careers within the armed forces. I wouldn’t be surprised if she takes medication that she didn’t want revealed on any records.”

  “Good point,” the doctor agreed. “Nurse Jordan, you heard Nurse Silva.”

  “Oh, um, yes. Thank you, Doctor.” She gave a small smile to Erica before averting her eyes from the penetrating jade gaze of Dr. Emerson. The towering man walked over to Erica and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

  “You never fail to impress me,” he complimented, hot breath shifting strands of her hair. She could detect the smell of sandalwood, perhaps from his cologne. His shoulder leaned against hers, lingering for a moment before pulling away. The close proximity has sent a small tremor up her core, and she had to fight the grin threatening at the corners of her mouth.

  “Thank you Dr. Emerson,” she uttered back.

  “Considering I’m not your superior, you can call me James if you like, Erica.” It was the first time she had heard her first name on his lips, uttered in his low timbre. It made her skin tingle. Before she could respond, he was out the door. Erica could feel her pulse against her sternum, competing with the beeps of the nearby heart rate monitor. She didn’t realize she had been frozen in the middle of the room until Nurse Jordan politely cleared her throat. Erica made a hasty retreat into the hallway, eager to distract her thoughts.

  The rest of her shift was devoid of the drama that ensued early in the morning. She spent her day suturing deep gashes and pumping stomachs of inexperienced college students. Unfortunately, nothing was quite challenging enough to clear her thoughts of Dr. Emerson. She wasn’t one for workplace romances, especially considering most of the residents were married or well beyond her in years. It felt silly, having a crush like she was some high school freshman pining after the football star. And she knew she wasn’t alone in her thoughts; no one could deny the appealing physique of the doctor, nor the magnetic gravitas he seemed to carry into each room with him. But he was often subdued and gruff with coworkers; no one knew anything about him. No one seemed to be able to get close with him…except for Erica.

  Erica sat in the hospital cafeteria, picking at the scrambled eggs idly as the effects of her coffee began to wear off. The room was quiet, the light clang of silverware echoing off the empty beige walls. There was a gaggle of nurses huddled together on the other side, chattering away. She considered them with a subdued sadness; it’s not like she was here to make friends. But she often wondered if she relaxed
a bit if she’d have more people to talk to. Many of her coworkers were intelligent and dedicated, but she felt that her intensity towards her job drove them away. That and her hatred for idle small talk. She stifled a small yawn allowing her eyes to close for a moment, her surroundings fading into the darkness behind her heavy lids.

  “No sleeping on the job!” came a bright voice behind her. Erica jumped suddenly, the metal of her fork scraping across her plate.

  “You almost gave me a heart attack, Lana,” she muttered.

  “Well, what a fortunate location for you,” Lana teased, sitting across from the nurse. She had changed into her regular clothes, her long blonde hair now down, curling delicately around her shoulders. Her normally pale face now flushed with some color from her lipstick and blush.

  “Can’t argue with you there,” Erica conceded, putting down her fork. The hospital’s food was never superb, but since the cafeteria manager had taken maternity leave, it felt nearly inedible. “How do you screw up scrambled eggs?”

  “After six years, how do you not bring your own lunch from home?” Lana quipped, giving a small squeeze to Erica’s wrist.

  “Is your shift over?” Erica pouted.

  “Yes, but I thought I’d stop by and see my favorite little life saver.”

  “Oh really? And this couldn’t have to do with me treating the biker you were flirting with this morning?” Lana was petite with smooth skin and a rather large chest for her frame; it wasn’t uncommon for patients to take a liking to her as she checked them in.

  “So I have a type, sue me,” she retorted, nonchalantly examining her nails. “But while we are on the topic-”