Page 10 of The Grumpy Doc's Surprise Delivery

As we bicker, a flush rises in her face, and it draws my attention back to her eyes. Her skin is olive smooth, and the more passionately she debates with me, the more fired up she gets and the more gorgeous she becomes. It’s not fair, really, to be fighting with such a beautiful woman.

Under any other circumstances, I would try to take her out for a drink. But I already tried that, and it didn’t end the way I might have wanted it to.

By the time Bruno comes around and tells us we should be wrapping up on our presentations, we still barely have a compromise. We’re the fourth group to go. Because we didn’t speak this morning, there’s no way we’ll be able to wiggle out of it this time.

The groups ahead of us give the most mind-numbingly boring talks it’s possible to give. They’re clearly not doctors who present papers very often, because they mumble into their notes and avoid looking at the crowd. Fortunately, I’m an excellent public speaker, so when it’s our turn to go, I grab our piece of paper, get to my feet, and smile winningly.

“Hello,” I say to everyone, charming them immediately. “So our scenario was one of disagreeing on what to tell a patient in the event of what could be bad news. I advocated for running more tests and finding facts before going to the patient, a method we ultimately used most of.”

“But,” interrupts Emma, “I advocated for patient transparency and trusting patients to have autonomy over their decisions.”

“Still,” I say. “We decided ultimately that this autonomy—” I glare at her, interrupting myself because I can see she wants to cut in—“was best exercised when in possession of all the facts.”

“We also,” she continues, “wanted to avoid practicing unethically. So we decided that, though more tests were necessary, it was best to ask the patient before doing them in order that we could give the patient the very best care possible.”

I open my mouth to say more, but before our presentation can descend into arguing again, Bruno smiles. “Thank you very much for that,” he says in that most diplomatic of voices. “An interesting solution presented by you both.”

“But we’re not done,” I say.

“Three minutes per team. That’s the rule.”

I frown. I don’t remember him stating that as a rule. But Emma is already leaving the stage, making me scramble after her.

The presentation over, we both slump back down in our seats. “Thanks for ruining that,” I hiss.

“Me ruining it? You went completely off script!” she hisses back.

She leans in close to me as we speak, close enough that I catch the scent of her perfume. Again, it’s that lovely floral smell, one that makes me feel like I’m in a garden.

The rest of the presentations are beyond dry, full of people who are soft, gentle, and good and act like being a doctor is some God-given duty rather than something they have to work hard to succeed at. I never like those types. They never seem to understand why I work so much.

Once the final group finishes, I sigh in relief. At least this day is over. Only three more to go.

Bruno takes his sweet time uploading the leaderboard and even longer getting the projector to fire up. When the picture finally fades into view, everyone in the room leans forward to try and find their names.

“The bottom?” says Emma, incredulous. “We’re at the bottom?”

Lo and behold, she’s right. I’m sure the points system is entirely arbitrary, but we’re not just losing. We are behind by a significant margin.

“This is all your fault,” she snaps and gets up without another word so she can storm out of the room.

I throw my hands up and groan. Three more days.

CHAPTER 6

EMMA

Iwake up with a pounding headache. All night, I’ve been having the weirdest dreams about Liam, the kind of dreams that make me question my sanity. Why is he on my mind? Haven’t I seen enough of him over the last few days to last me a lifetime?

Of course I have. We’ve spent way too many painstaking hours together lately, but still, there’s something that fascinates me about him, some sort of strange allure that keeps bringing me back to him.

That or it was him shouting into his phone all night long again. As I drifted in and out of sleep, all I could hear was the faint sound of a man being very, very angry on the phone next door. I don’t know when he found time to sleep if he was spending all night yelling at someone. I don’t know who he was yelling at to deserve his wrath. What I do know is that I’m glad it wasn’t me.

I drag myself down for breakfast. I’m reluctant to show my face, but my stomach is grumbling. Liam is nowhere to be seen, and I eat my cereal in peace and quiet, just the way I like it.

I know exactly what Phoebe would say if she was here right now.Give him a chance! How do you know he’s awful if you won’t speak to him?I scoff at the thought, probably making myself look insane.

There’s no way she would really advocate for me to get to know someone I hate, is there? Not that I reallyhateLiam. He’s mostly irritating. I think he’s one of those people who works so hard he’s forgotten how to act like a normal person, but then who am I to judge on that matter?

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