Chapter Seven
Landry
Oh no. I jolted up in bed and made a mad dash for the bathroom. I managed to close the door behind me and turn on the vent before throwing up in the toilet. The sounds of me heaving were echoing around the room. After I was done, I rested my forehead against my forearm, flushing with my other hand. I sighed and slouched down to the white tiled floor. I glanced at my watch, groaning when I saw that it was barely five in the morning.
“Kid. You’re already waking momma up way too early.” I rested my hand on my stomach as I got to my feet. I brushed my teeth before turning out the light and opening the door. I kept quiet, peering into the room to see if I had woken Brody.
He was still sprawled out on the bed, his naked body on full display, his eyes on me. “Still feeling bad?”
I leaned against the doorjamb, studying him by the glow of the streetlight outside. “Some little bugs are stubborn like that. I’m probably eating too many heavy foods and not drinking enough water.” There were so many things to like about him. His body. His good looks. His humor.
His heart.
I crossed the room and got in bed beside him, snuggling up with my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, letting out a content sigh. If things were different, if there was no chance the baby wasn’t his…would I tell him? Would I let him in?
I didn’t know the answer to my own questions, and that alone kept me awake until my alarm went off.
***
“Dr. Cole.”
I froze with a doughnut half in my mouth, powdered sugar covering my navy scrub top. I chewed and swallowed as much of the pastry as I could before turning around. “Dr. French.” When I say that my ex and I had a bad breakup, I’m being generous. We had an epically horrific breakup, in the middle of a crowded hospital. We were straight up Grey’s Anatomy from back in the day. “What can I do for you?” I had gone postal when I caught him cheating, and we hadn’t spoken since.
“I need a general consult.” His lips were thin and his hands were on his hips. He looked like a pissed-off Superman. Obviously he didn’t want to be talking to me any more than I wanted to be talking to him. Which was dumb. I was the only one with any right to be harboring a grudge. I mean, I was possibly pregnant with his kid and purposely keeping it from him, but he didn’t know that.
I tossed the rest of my doughnut in a nearby trashcan, my hunger having disappeared at the sound of his voice. “Sure.” I spun on my heel, brushing the sugar off my top, and headed toward the ER. I glanced behind me in confusion when I realized he was following. “Uh, is there something else?” Normally he’d let me consult and then the patient’s nurse would relay what I’d said. Or he could read it in the chart when I was done. I hadn’t had a babysitter during a consult in over a year.
“This patient. He’s kind of a big deal—he’s on the board of trustees.”
I stopped short. “And you don’t trust me to make the hospital look good? Why’d you even ask me for the consult?” I crossed my arms over my chest, cringing slightly at the discomfort.
“Of course I trust you. You’re the best general surgeon we have on staff today. I’d simply feel more comfortable if I was in there with you.” He held his hand out, gesturing for me to head to the right. “And he’s in a private suite.”
I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. But I muttered “Whatever” under my breath instead.
Travis knocked lightly on the door to the rich man’s private triage room. “Mr. Weston, this is Dr. Cole. Dr. Cole, Mr. Weston.”
I held my hand out. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Weston.” He looked to be about our age, his dark brown hair cut close to his head, his skin pale. “Why don’t you catch me up on why you’re here today?” I glanced at Travis, then the patient, smiling kindly even though I was feeling less than kind toward my cheating ex.
“My wife worries too much, that’s why I’m here.”
“Did I hear my name?” The door opened and a small petite woman with a midsection the size of a basketball came waddling next to the bed. “Are you talking badly about your pregnant wife?” She wore a smile and took her husband’s hand in hers.
“Never.”
She rolled her eyes and then held out her free hand. “I’m Minka. The worrying wife.”
I shook her hand, laughing. “I’m Dr. Cole, the general surgeon.”
“Mr. Weston came in with stomach pain and some pretty severe nausea. Mrs. Weston said it’s been going on for about a week.” Travis sent the patient a stern look, like he was upset it’d taken that long for him to come in. I assumed he was going for playful, maybe trying to make buddies with the rich trustee. What a dick. The expression on the patient’s face showed he agreed with my assessment. “I ordered an abdominal CT.” This patient must be really special for our head of cardio to do this low-level labor. Travis handed me the tablet, showing me what he saw on the 3-D image. An inflamed gallbladder.
I nodded. “Well, Mr. Weston.”
“Wes, please.”
I smiled, mentally flipping Travis the bird. “Wes, it looks like you’ll be having your gallbladder removed today.” I turned to the nurse who had entered the room moments before. “Book OR three please—lap chole.” She nodded and started typing away on her tablet, getting everything set up. “I will go over consents and answer any questions you might have.”
“I can do that with them. My next surgery isn’t for another hour or so.” Travis smiled at the Westons before turning to me. A brown-noser dick. Blech.
Wes shook his head. “If you don’t mind, Dr. French, I’d really like the surgeon responsible for the actual surgery to go over things with us.”
“Oh, yes, well certainly.” Travis sent me a thin smile and then left the room with his tail between his lying legs.
“Sorry if I put you in an awkward position with an attending, but that guy has been trying way too hard to kiss my ass since I walked into this hospital.” Wes leaned back in his bed, wincing at the pain the movement caused.
“Dr. French is a great doctor.” I glanced at the door and then lowered my voice to a whisper. “But a tad on the pretentious side.”
The patient’s beautifully pregnant wife laughed. “Well you are a breath of fresh air around this place, that’s for sure.”
“And you two are my new favorite people.” I spent the next fifteen minutes going over the procedure, explaining about pre- and post-op, expectations and risks. “Everything should go smoothly.” I was looking over his chart one last time.
“I’m glad this happened now.” Mr. Weston smiled at his wife. “I’ll be good as new by the time the baby is born.”
“How far along are you?”
I glanced up, confused as to why Mrs. Weston would be asking herself that question. “What? Me? How did you know?”
She smiled, pointing down to my stomach. “Anytime someone talked about pregnancy or babies around me when I first found out, I’d put my hand on my stomach. Just like you did.”
I quickly moved my hand, placing it safely behind my back, checking over my shoulder to make sure no one had walked in while I was reading through the patient’s chart. “I haven’t even seen my OB yet, and no one here knows.”
She nodded. “Your secret is safe with us. Promise.”
“Thank you.” I made it out of their room, my nausea returning again. Did the kid know when it was being talked about? Geez, I was tired of all this puking.
“Did they say anything about me? They seemed irritated.”
I clutched my tablet to my chest, gasping in surprise. “Shit, Travis, you scared the crap out of me.” I took a deep breath, pushing down the urge to puke on his stupid clean trainers. “Were you out here the whole time? Eavesdropping? What’s the matter with you? You’re a grown man.”
“I wasn’t waiting out here, calm down.” He rolled his eyes like I was the ridiculous one. “I was over at the nurses station updating some charts and I saw you come out.”
“They didn’t say anything about you.” Anything good anyway. “Now leave me alone. I have to prepare for my new best friend’s surgery.” I made a face and went to step around him.
“I think the wife liked me at least.” He wasn’t even talking to me; he was talking to himself.
But I lost my cool all the same. “She’s his pregnant wife, you asshole. What does it matter if she liked you? You going to try to sleep with her too? Ugh, you make me sick.” Like for real sick. I was getting the throw-up mouth waters. I couldn’t for the life of me think of the medical term for those.
“Stop being a child. It’s important for trustees to like attendings. It’s business, Landry.”
I hated the way he said my name. It was like he was talking down to me, like I was a joke. Why the hell had I dated Travis French in the first place? Hotshot surgeon or not, he was a world class prick.
And I could possibly be having his baby. Oh wow, I really was going to throw up on him.
I spun on my heel, power walking away. I pulled my cell out and put it to my ear, hoping he’d think I was being called in on an emergency. I rounded the corner and almost cried in relief when I ducked into the bathroom. I made it. I slammed open the stall door, and bent over the toilet just in time.
And puked my guts up.
Again.