Page 11 of The Doctor's No-Strings Deal

When the day was through, Megan found Charlie outside the locker room and tried to introduce herself again. Maybe they’d just gotten off on the wrong foot, and they could start again now that they both knew the other was serious about learning.

“I thought your stitches were really good,” she said to him. Starting out with a compliment would get her far, she assumed, but she was wrong.

Charlie glared down at her. “I don’t need to be pandered to, Bright. I know what I’m capable of.”

His rudeness struck her seconds later than it should have. She just hadn’t expected anyone to be that openly hostile, especially when they’d barely scuffled, and even then, it was just friendly competition. “Jeez, I was just trying to give you a compliment. Why don’t you try pulling your head out of your ass and being civil for a few minutes? It’ll get you further in life.”

Charlie burst out laughing at that and walked away.

Kayla stepped into his place beside Megan, who asked, “What the hell was so funny about what I said?”

“Probably the wholefurther in lifepart,” Kayla answered with a shrug. “He’s basically already as far as he could be at this point. He doesn’t need to be nice because he’s a Sullivan. Everyone’s going to assume he’s good because his father and grandfather were both good. I’m pretty sure his brother’s also a surgeon, if I remember right. It’s a family tradition.”

“I’ve never even heard of his family,” Megan admitted.

“Really? They’re responsible for a lot of medical advancements in the last fifty years. They’re practically a household name. I’m shocked that you haven’t heard of them. That’s why they have money, the Sullivans.” She paused and added, “That’s why they have a hell of a lot of money.”

Megan frowned at the quickly retreating shape of Charlie Sullivan. “I’m glad his family has done so much for medicine,and maybe they deserve the wealth they’ve earned. But he hasn’t done a damn thing for medicine yet. So until he does, I’m not going to treat him any differently than I treat every other resident here. And that means, if he’s going to act like an asshole, I’m going to treat him like one.”

Kayla grinned. “Ooh, you’re bad. He’s not used to being treated like an ordinary person. He’s going to absolutelyhateit.”

“Good,” Megan said viciously, and despite usually being the Pollyanna in the room, this time, she really, really meant it.

CHAPTER 6

CHARLIE

Usually, after two weeks of working with someone who wanted to test their boundaries with him, Charlie would have put them back in their place, but Megan Bright was different. She just wouldn’t give up. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t just work together normally — side by side, without having to constantly needle each other. But Megan was determined to do all the needling she had energy for, and Charlie was getting tired of it.

They didn’t have as many cases together anymore, but every once in a while, their attending would find a way to stuff them in a room with only one patient between them. Charlie suspected this was more for their attending’s amusement that anything, mostly because of the way Dr. Ralter would hover around in nearby rooms or the hall. He was always on the same floor anyway. The man’s sense of humor was starting to irritate Charlie, who had long since accepted the fact that he himself did not have one.

Their current shared patient was a woman in her seventies, who presented with a headache, drowsiness, weakness, nausea, and blurred vision.

“I think my headache is because I can’t see so well,” Mrs. Jackson said. “I tried to get an appointment with my optometrist, but they’re booked out for the next six months. I’ve gotta get something for this headache. It’s making it so I can’t hold down my breakfast.”

Charlie examined her eyes for abnormalities but didn’t see any. Her temperature was normal, and so was her blood pressure. While he continued to check her, he went over everything he’d ever memorized, trying to match the symptoms to something. But every time he thought he’d found the answer, something else would rule it out. Megan Bright watching over his shoulder was not helping matters.

“Mrs. Jackson,” she said while Charlie went over the list of symptoms one more time. “What kind of heat do you have in your house?”

“Electric,” the patient answered.

Charlie knew what Megan was getting at. She suspected carbon monoxide poisoning, but the fact that the patient answered electric made Charlie feel smug about it. He couldn’t help himself.

Then Mrs. Jackson amended her answer. “But our electric’s been out the last couple days, so we’ve been using a space heater.”

Now Megan looked smug, and Charlie sighed deeply. He was about to lose again.

“What kind of space heater do you have?” he asked the patient.

“Oh,” she said with a slight smile. “Kerosene. It works really well. Heats a whole room in minutes.”

“Damn it.” Charlie ripped off his gloves and threw them away. “Get her on oxygen. She’s your patient now, Bright.”

As he walked away from the room, he could hear Megan explaining the condition to the patient. His outburst was going to get him into trouble with the people who criticized his bedside manner, and they’d be right to get on his case about it. The trouble was, Charlie Sullivan hated to lose. It was a bad personality trait, but he’d come by it honestly. His father did not go easy on him when he lost becauseSullivans never lose. Any loss at all felt like outright failure.

Dr. Ralter must have heard the two of them because he assigned them another patient together later that week. Either that or their attending was a fan of betting on fights between his residents.

The patient was a middle-aged man whose young wife was in the room, hovering, worried. “He’s pretending it doesn’t hurt as much as it does,” she said to Megan, who was palpating the man’s lower right quadrant. “He was screaming while we were at home. Now he’s barely grunting.”

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