Page 41 of Broken Dreams

“Good morning, Dr. Roland.” She spoke in a polite tone, although the dark bruises still hadn't faded from her wrist and knee.

“Hrmph.” He barely acknowledged her greeting, and he didn't tear his gaze from the screen.

She edged closer, trying to ascertain if there were any smell of alcohol. She didn't smell anything unusual until she was standing right over his shoulder. And even then the odor was faint. So faint she thought maybe she was imagining it.

“Is that Billy’s chart? I need to ask you about him.” She used the chart as a reason for being so close. Anxiously, she glanced around, looking for some of her colleagues. She didn't want to be the only person who smelled alcohol on the guy. Where was everyone? She couldn't trust her nose to be impartial.

“What about him?” He abruptly turned and scooted his chair backward putting distance between them. The faint scent of alcohol was still there. His brusque attitude didn't soften, as if she was the one who'd wronged him. Not the other way around.

“He's very depressed. I would like our rehab psychiatrist to talk to him sooner, than later.”

“Fine. I'll call him.” With that, Roland stood and moved to walk around her.

Wait! She almost cried out to stop him from leaving. Then she saw Irene walking down the hallway and hurried over.

“Irene, I need you to go by Roland, tell me if you smell anything funny.”

Irene wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean? Why would he smell funny?”

She didn't want to give away her suspicions. “Please? Just go over and ask him a question.”

“Okay, fine.” Irene turned and headed down the hall. “Dr. Roland? I have a quick question.

She watched as Irene and Roland spoke for a moment before the physician turned away to go into one of the patient's rooms. Irene returned to where she stood.

“Well?” She stared expectantly at her colleague. “What do you think?”

“I don't think anything.” Irene shrugged. “There may have been a hint of alcohol on his breath, but it's hard to say for sure. Besides, just because he may have had a little too much to drink last night. That doesn't mean he's impaired.”

“You smelled it too?” She blew out a breath in relief. “It's not my imagination, then.” It took a moment for the comment to sink in. “Wait a minute. Of course he might be impaired. We are obligated to protect our patients from being cared for by doctors or nurses under the influence. It’s part of the nurse’s professional code of conduct. We could lose our nursing license if we don’t follow through. We must call Leanne.”

“Oh, no, don't drag me into this.” Irene lifted her hands and backed off. “I didn't smell anything.”

Her jaw dropped. What, she had to be kidding. “Irene, this is serious. What if he makes a mistake? Hurts someone? We can't ignore it.”

“It’s no secret you’re leaving. Easy for you to rock the boat. I need this job.” Irene's worried gaze bored into her. “I just found out I'm pregnant. I can't afford to get fired. I think he's fine. There's nothing wrong with his medical decisions. And since you're leaving, I don't really see why you care.” With one last glance over her shoulder, Irene hurried off.

Amber stared at her retreating figure with a sense of doom. Roland was dangerous, she knew only too well what happened when he had too much to drink. She had the bruises to prove it. But if she couldn't find someone to corroborate her story, she'd be seen as a troublemaker. Leanne had already put a note in her file and required her to take a professional communication class for being rude. And Irene was right, she already had another job lined up in Florida.

Still, it didn't seem right to let this go.

She stood there, torn by indecision. Roland came out of the patient's room and headed toward her. Their gazes locked and in that instant his tiny, smug smile sent a shaft of fury washing over her. He acted as if he knew her days here were numbered and once she was gone, he'd go right back to doing whatever he wanted.

“Excuse me, Dr. Roland. I need to have another word with you.” Amber heard the words coming out of her mouth and desperately wanted to call them back. What was she doing?

“Now what?” His smug smile vanished, replaced by intense irritation.

“I need you to come with me and talk to Leanne.” She was winging it, because she didn't know what else to do. “There’s an issue we need to resolve.”

“I'm busy. Tell your boss I'll talk to her later.” Roland brushed past her. She was running out of time. Once he left the unit it would be too late.

“No, wait.” She raised her voice when he continued to walk away. “Dr. Roland! Have you been drinking?”

Someone on the other side of the nurse’s station audibly gasped. But she'd managed to get his attention. He spun around and marched back toward her.

“What did you say?” His voice was deceptively quiet, but the expression in his eyes shot fiery daggers, as if he wished nothing more than to light a match to her career.

And maybe he would.

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