Page 17 of Wistful Whispers

I nod. “It works pretty well with self-important guys.”

At least I hope it will because it’s not enough to know what happened. Not enough the Black family knows what happened.

Bryce Caldwell has to admit it and explain why he did it.

If and when he does, I’ll be ready.

“What do we have on the rest of the surgical team? I know Seamus McGloughlin assisted; I wonder if Caldwell will try to pin it on his protégée?” I glance at the clock. It’s pushing eight p.m. We need to wrap this up so I can get some sleep.

There’s a beat of hesitation before Ethan clears his throat. “Right. So, uh, about him…”

I glance over, catching the silent eyeball exchange between him and Natalie and recall what Joe Finney warned me about. Did he say something to Ethan and Natalie?

“What’s going on with the looks?” I gesture between them.

Natalie sighs, setting her tablet down. “Well… He’s not some random resident, Marcella. He’s, um, kind of a thing at the hospital.”

“A thing?” I frown.

“I mean, we started pulling research on him after you flagged his name for deposition prep.” Ethan smirks. “Let’s say, people talk.”

My brow arches. “People talk about what?”

“I might as well tell you…my college roommate is in medical school. She did a surgical rotation or something last year. I mentioned I was working on a case involving Dr. McGloughlin, and she practically swooned through the phone.” Natalie waggles her eyebrows. “Apparently, he’s the guy every woman at the hospital covets…”

I steel my expression because—gah.

Ethan snorts. “C’mon. Call it. His body count is through the roof.”

“Excuse me?” I blink rapidly, knowing how I must seem to these young lawyers. A fat, middle-aged spinster who gets embarrassed talking about sex. They probably think I’m a virgin.

“True. Apparently, it’s not only about how he looks—though, I mean…” She waves a hand to fan herself. “You’ve seen him.”

I grit my teeth.

Yes, I’ve seen him. I know exactly how ridiculously handsome he is.

I’ve nearly burnt out the battery on my vibrator while picturing the man. Though, I’m not confessing this to anyone. Ever.

“Everyone says the same thing—he’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. Kind, funny, easygoing…” Natalie pauses dramatically. “He has a nickname.” She looks at Ethan and then me, her cheeks pinkening. “The man is actually known as ‘The Orgasm Whisperer.’”

Ethan bursts out in laughter and I can’t help it when my jaw hits the floor. “What do they mean?”

“It means he’s strictly a fuckboy. Doesn’t date. No relationships. If the stories are to be believed, the good doctor has an encyclopedic knowledge of female anatomy.” She covers her face with her hand.

I pinch the bridge of my nose because this is the last thing I expected to be discussing tonight and I need to steer the ship on course. “So you’re telling me Seamus McGloughlin is a walking HR violation?”

“More like a walking, talking hospital legend.” Ethan grins like the man is his hero.

Jesus.

“Well, all of this is very interesting.” I exhale, rolling my shoulders back. “Except, I don’t care what he’s doing when he’s not holding a scalpel. I care about what happened inside the OR.” I glance at Ethan. “Regardless of what Caldwell does tomorrow, we should get his deposition scheduled.”

Ethan nods and looks down at his laptop.

“I know it’s inappropriate, Marcella, so forgive me. How do you prep to sit across from a defendant for hours knowing what his nickname is?” Natalie blushes.

I narrow my eyes. “It’s called professionalism. You can giggle and gossip about this in your free time.Notin the workplace. You should know better.”

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