Page 1 of The Doctor's Promise
1
Chapter One
No matter how many times Doctor Noemi Castor scrubbed in for a surgery, she never lost the thrill of the unknown, the challenge. She looked over at her colleague—her ex-boyfriend—Dieter Flynn and wondered if he felt the same way.
Of course, Dieter had a God Complex, a trait Noemi had always disliked. For her, the challenge was helping the person before them on the operating table, not acquiring surgical bragging rights, but she knew she was the exception, not the rule, in the world of surgery.
“You ready to rock, Noe?” Ally Roberts, her favorite scrub nurse and her best friend, grinned at her, and Noemi nodded.
“Stephen all set? I hope he’s not too nervous.” Noemi peered in through the viewing window. Their patient, a fifty-five-year-old man, had been waiting for a heart and lung transplant for three years, but had a crippling fear of surgery. Noemi had carefully reassured him that she would do everything to make sure he came though safely.
She heard Dieter make a disgusted noise. “Who cares? Dude will be out for the count anyway.” He pushed his way into the theater while Noemi shared an eyeroll with Ally.
“Remind me again why I ever ever dated that guy?”
Ally snorted. “A psychotic break, I’d say. Come on, Super Doc, your patient awaits.”
Later,Noemi sat with Stephen in recovery, and when he awoke, she smiled at him. “Hey, slugger. You did good.”
“It went well?” Stephen whispered, soft and raspy.
“Perfectly. Now, your job is to make sure those organs don’t reject you, to wine and dine them with the best food this hospital can provide—which isn’t saying much, I know—and to sweet talk them with your meds. Can you do that for me?”
Stephen, who she knew harbored a crush on her, grinned at her. “Sure thing, doc. And thank you… I mean it.”
She squeezed his hand. “When your vitals are more stable, I’ll allow visitors. Muriel is in the waiting room. She won’t say it, but I know she’s relieved.” Muriel was Stephen’s fearsome wife, who would never confess she was worried, but had spent the past few hours knitting furiously. When Noemi stepped out to update her that Stephen was okay, her relief was palpable, and she’d even hugged Noemi—which was very out of character.
Noemi wentto the changing room and stripped out of her scrubs. It was late, almost ten, and she was ravenously hungry, but before she left the hospital, she stopped in on another patient.
Thomasina Ballentine was awake and reading, and she greeted Noemi happily. “Hey, kiddo, how are you doing?”
She was only five years older than Noemi’s twenty-eight, but because of her society position and her effortless grace and poise, Noemi always regarded Thomasina like a much older sister. The tall, willowy, delicately beautiful blonde had been admitted when she got too sick to be at home—her heart, damaged by a seemingly innocent bout of what turned out to be pneumonia, was failing, the result of an undiagnosed condition she’d had from birth.
Thomasina, the daughter of one of Seattle’s most prominent society families, was entirely the opposite of who Noemi had expected her to be. Rather than taking advantage of her family’s position and vast wealth, Thomasina—Tomi—worked tirelessly for underprivileged kids in Seattle’s poorer neighborhoods. Noemi and she had bonded immediately, both sharing a goofy sense of humor. Thomasina had been fascinated by Noemi’s story: a mixed-race kid adopted by a middle-class white family who had repaid their love and kindness by being a straight-A student and paying her own way through college and med school.
Now, having reached the position of surgical resident in cardiology, her favorite specialty, Noemi’s career was just taking off. Of course, her personal life was another matter. What personal life? she would often say to herself. She had dated Dieter briefly when she had first joined Sacred Heart Seattle, but she soon learned the cardiology resident was arrogant and only interested in her because she had been the shining star of her class at Stanford.
Her real joy here was her mentor; Lazlo Merchant, Chief of Surgery and a cardio God, had taken Noemi under his wing, and he was like a surrogate father to her. He was certainly her champion, pushing her farther than the rest of the residents. Lazlo was also the sweetest man, and Noemi adored him.
Now, she checked Thomasina’s charts. “I’m supposed to be asking you how you are doing, Tomi.” She looked around. “Rafa not here?”
“He went to take Bepi to my mom’s. Bepi’s being fussy, wanting his dad to read to him if I can’t be there.” Bepi was Thomasina’s two-year-old son, an adorable curly-headed young boy. Bepi’s father, Thomasina’s fiancée, was object of a crush for every female in the hospital. Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome, Rafael Genova was a quiet, thoughtful man who adored his fiancée and their son. Though a CEO of an international shipping company, the Italian billionaire was strangely shy. With Thomasina being the life and soul of any party, Noemi supposed, Rafa didn’t need to do anything but let her take the lead.
Becoming close to Thomasina, however, didn’t preclude Noemi from finding Rafa sinfully attractive. He was gorgeous—all dark curls and bright green eyes. His smile, though rarely seen, lit up any room. Noemi could tell he was desperately worried about Thomasina, even if Tomi herself laughed off her condition, joking around that she’d have to find Rafa a new fiancée before she ‘kicked the bucket.’
“Not going to happen,” Noemi would reassure them both with a mock-glare at Tomi. “Not on my watch.”
There were a few occasions when Tomi was sleeping with Rafa sitting by her side, that Noemi would see his pain and seek to comfort him, reassure him—but it wasn’t her place to do it.
Thomasina watched Noemi as she checked her vitals. “Noe, tell me, honestly. What are the chances of me getting a heart? Really?”
“As good as anyone’s. You’re at the top of the list now.”
“Which means I’m hovering on the verge of croaking.”
Noemi shook her head. “It just means you’re meeting the criteria UNOS set out.”
“And that means I’m really sick. I need you to be honest, doc.”
