Page 77 of Doctored Vows

I can’t see his face, but I feel his smile when I reply, “Thank you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Dr. Lipovsky’s relieved huff rustles a strand of hair fallen from my bun when she takes in Yulia’s latest blood workup. “Her levels are good.”

“They are,” I agree, relieved a child won’t need to undertake regular blood workups and serum injections. “Although something is off with her results.” I highlight two agents I’ve not seen before. They appear to be chemical, but the foreign language on the report could be leading me astray. “Do you know what could have caused this?”

Dr. Lipovsky screws up her button nose before suggesting I request a full toxicology report on her sample.

“Shouldn’t that have already been done?”

Blonde tresses of hair slap her cheeks when she shakes her head. “Her original blood workup was pretty basic. A resident would be shot if they ordered the works from the get-go.” She laughs when I grimace. “You got the B12 test approved. Perhaps you’ll get lucky again?”

“Yeah, maybe,” I murmur, my tone as uneasy as my facial expression.

After ordering an X-ray for a child with similar symptoms to Yulia, Dr. Lipovsky reminds me I wasn’t the only person running on fumes last week. She slips one hundred rubles my way while hitting me with pleading I-need-caffeine eyes.

“This round is on me,” I say while logging out of HIS and snagging a jacket from the rack to cover my scrubs. It isn’t winter yet, but you wouldn’t know that with how cold it is today.

“Are you sure?” she double-checks, aware I didn’t regularly seek overtime for no reason. “I’m willing to pay premium prices to escape that disaster.”

My lips twist up when I follow the direction of her head nudge. Snow flurries coat the overhead windows, and the fog is heavy enough to decrease visibility to barely a foot.

Although I’d rather go home and snuggle up in bed with the man who makes me warm inside and out, today is Donut Holes Thursday, so I have to brave the weather no matter how much I wish to avoid it.

“I’m sure. I still owe you from last time.” My heart rate kicks up a gear when the rustles of my coat pick up a familiar scent. Just being housed in the same closet as Maksim’s clothing has allowed it to capture his scent. It is a deliciously manly smell that always makes me hot enough to forgo a jacket.

I pull out the collar from beneath the bulky jacket before spinning to face Dr. Lipovsky. “White and two, right?”

“Please.” She slips the note back into the pocket of her white doctor’s coat. “But if they’re short on that, I’ll take anything. This place is always crazy, but it’s been worse since Nurse Kelley failed to show up for her shifts.”

“Is she sick?” I ask, my interest piqued.

If she is hiding because of our run-in nights ago, she shouldn’t bother. My bark is far more vicious than my bite.

Dr. Lipovsky shrugs before she is called into a patient’s room by a nurse.

“Go. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

My shift is technically over, but since we’re short on staff, I should work some overtime.

Dr. Lipovsky smiles in thanks before power walking down the corridor.

I also hustle, but I head in the opposite direction.

My puffy winter coat is almost overwhelming in the tight confines of the elevator, and the sticky situation worsens when the elevator stops at the second level of Myasnikov Private to collect a rider from the surgical ward.

“Dr. Hoffman,” Dr. Sidorov greets me from outside the elevator. This is the first time I’ve seen him since I turned down his proposal, and it appears as if he is not ready to let bygones be bygones. “I’ll get the next one.”

I stare at him peculiarly. The elevator could carry twenty riders, and I am the only person in it, so why does he want to wait?

I cuss my stupidity when he pulls his ringing cell phone out of his pocket and presses it to his ear. He must have felt its vibrations.

Ghastly winds whip through the revolving door of Myasnikov Private ruefully enough that I have to push against them to get out. The conditions are so horrendous I contemplate fetching our coffees at the hospital cafeteria, but then Alla would have to make it through a nine-hour shift without the carbs she needs to survive it unscathed.

Some good comes from the icy elements. Hardly anyone is willing to brave them, so I make it to the donut shop half a block down without bumping into anyone.

“Three large whites and a bucket of glaze donut holes, please,” I request to the person serving. “Actually, can I add a single glaze donut to my order as well?” Dr. Lipovsky looks like she could use more than an IV of caffeine.

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