Page 3 of Take Me to the Wedding

“That’s three adjectives telling me I’m determined. One would be plenty, thanks.”

Iwasfocused and goal-directed—and proud of it. I didn’t allow people to trample on me. I stood up for myself. I’d had plenty of practice getting places on my own strength—my own stubborn will. Unlike him, who cruised by on his good looks and who played—a lot—instead of being serious. Who dated and discarded women faster than Kleenex. In fact, his latest victim had been my friend Nora, a nurse practitioner from the NICU, whom he’d recently reduced to an endless font of tears.

“I didn’t want to deal with your, um—determination—in the OR during a tough case,” he said. “It’s unprofessional. Not to mention bad for patient care. And distracting.”

“Iamgood at what I do.” I enunciated every word slowly and carefully. “And I’mneverunprofessional.” I would never create drama, especially in the OR, that sanctum sanctorum where any careless error could mean the difference between life and death.

“You get along with everyone except me. You disagree with me on everything—publicly.”

I frowned. “Like what?”

“You always give me grief when I ask you to turn up the pain control.”

I tossed up my hands. “A surgeon has no conception of how much pain control the patient needs. I’m monitoring the patient while you surgerize, remember?” I tapped my chest a little too emphatically. “Myjob.”

He did not appear convinced. “The table was too high, and whenever I ask you to lower it, you huff.” He looked down his nose at me, which I had to say was his only imperfect feature. It was a little bit large, with the tiniest bit of a dorsal bump. Staring at that tiny imperfection gave me the courage to gather my thoughts.

Maybe Ihadfought him on some petty things. But if I was defensive, it was because he irritated me in a way that no one else did. “I know this family. I’ve done the anesthesia on both of Joseph’s other surgeries. You know how much this means to me.”

I had to shut down this entire issue fast. If the anesthesia chair, Dr. Benson, found out, I’d be crossed off the prospective employee list faster than the time it takes for the sedating effect of a Propofol drip to kick in.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb said firmly, “but I can’t have power struggles in my OR.”

I shook my head, momentarily speechless. “‘MyOR?’” A voice in my head told me to put on the brakes.Think of Mia.His sister, my best friend. I would never do anything to put our friendship in jeopardy. Mia was wonderful, the dearest friend I’d ever had, and she was everything her dumb brother wasn’t.

More urgently, all of us—Mia, Caleb, and I—were in Ani’s wedding. She was marrying Tyler Banks, an invasive cardiologist who did things like place stents in clogged arteries, implant pacemakers, and open tiny coronary arteries with balloons. In truth, his personality was a bit invasive too, but that was another story.

The wedding was coming right up, and there was a bonding weekend for the wedding party next weekend at a farm in Waukasaw, about two hours away, which actually included the beautiful outdoor venue Ani and Tyler had selected. Wehadto at least pretend to get along for the sake of our friends.

Even more urgently, my car was in the shop, and Caleb and I were the only ones headed way out to the middle of nowhere from Milwaukee. My wheezing, chronically ill gas-guzzler, which was all I could afford after meeting all of my sister’s college expenses, had undergone cardiac arrest, and the nice mechanic down the street from where I lived, Hal, was struggling to save it. He said that it would be a miracle for the car to be resuscitated in time for the farm weekend.

I was praying for one, because after this incident, I would never step into a vehicle with Caleb. I wouldn’t trust myself not to commit a felony. It looked like I would be forking over the bucks on a rental because my pride would never allow me to ask him for a ride.

I balled and unballed my fists, thinking. He noticed. That was the trouble with him—healwaysnoticed.

His mouth twitched. He was amused at my indignation, and that did it. I closed my eyes and shook my head and took a breath, but none of that stopped everything I was feeling from spilling out like a flood. “The fact that you think you can cancel me—publicly—on a whim simply because you don’t like me, and that your attending actually allowed you to get away with that, sayseverything. You are a stereotypical meathead ortho guy. Handsome, but all muscle and no brains.”

Okay, maybe I went too far.

Yep. I was met with complete, hulking, deadly silence. The pale green eyes glared.

Good. I’d made him feel my anger. Why hold back? Except now I’d be walking to Waukasaw next weekend.

“Wow,” he said, staring at me. “Handsome, huh?”

I spun toward him. “What?”

There was that too-bright, mocking grin. “You said I was handsome.”

I could. Not. Deal. With. Him. I took a step back and prepared to go.

“This isn’t a joke,” I said to his face.

I desperately needed this job. To stay close to Wynn, my nineteen-year-old sister, who was in college at UW. Also, I loved this hospital. I loved the complex and challenging cases. I loved teaching. All things I couldn’t do in a smaller place.

Caleb crossed his arms and looked down at me. Way down, because oh man, was he tall. I would guess six-four to my five-nine. “No one will know about the switch unless you make it known. And I’m sorry about Joseph. But Erin stays.”

The hydraulic double door swooshed open behind us. “Joseph’s family is asking for Sam,” Ani said in a pleasant tone. She walked over, handed me a clipboard, and turned to Caleb. “Maybe you’d like to go tell them why you don’t want her in there?”

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