Bad Case of Loving You

He coloured a little and blinked, his eyelashes tiny fans against his skin, then smiled at me. This must have been what he had done to get past The Secretary From Hell. Fuck, but he was gorgeous, and I let go of his hand before it all became far too embarrassing.

“Get out of here,” I said, but my voice wasn’t the least bit grouchy.

Chapter Three

Lin, the Asian girl, said, “There’s Dr. Maynard in the queue,” grabbing my arm and pulling me behind her up to the junk food counter. All right, so I wasn’t the only student to have noticed he was cute. I followed her, even though I was carrying my own food in my backpack. I could always scrape together the coins to buy a can of soft drink.

He smiled at both of us in greeting, then leaned across the counter and said, “I’ll have the cardiology special,” to the bored-looking teenager behind it.

“Righty ho,” she said and took his money.

“What’s the cardiology special?” Lin asked. “Is it really healthy or something?”

Dr. Maynard shook his head. “No way. It’s a burger with cheese and fried egg, with fries and a thick shake. The cook changed the name when he noticed that the cardiology team all ordered it. I think they made one of their residents measure the saturated fat in it once.”

“How much was in it?” I asked. “Just out of morbid curiosity.”

Lin ordered a salad and Dr. Maynard took the bright yellow shake the girl handed him.

“Thirty-five grams I think.” He quirked an eyebrow at us.

“Okay, what’s the recommended maximum daily intake of saturated fat?”

I looked blankly at him, and Lin promptly said, “Twenty grams, no more than half of the total daily fat intake of forty grams.”

I ordered a Diet Coke, and Dr. Maynard said, “You haven’t read the latest papers on Aspartame, have you?”

Point to Dr. Maynard. Now it was my turn. “I’ll worry about my brain tumours if you worry about your arteries.”

He chuckled and took the plate heaped with chips that the girl held out. “Join us, the pair of you,” he said.

Lin glanced up at me, looking scared. The medical students usually hid in the back corner of the dining room and tried not to pester the real staff. We were supposed to know our place, but if one of the senior registrars invited us to eat with him, we were probably obliged to accept.

Then there was the hunk factor. It wasn’t likely that either of us would refuse.

He was sitting with Jane and another nurse I didn’t recognise, a bloke wearing the same solid red shoulder epaulettes as Jane. Lin and I sat down at the table and Jane nodded at us, then turned her attention back to the guy, who was talking about the Ducati he’d just bought.

Somehow I’d imagined that the mighty medical types would talk about case studies at lunch, but Dr. Maynard was eating chips and waving his other hand in the air, describing the Indian his father had owned.

A nurse walked past the table and smiled pointedly at Dr. Maynard. She didn’t look like Jane or the bloke—Daniel, according to his name badge—and it took me a moment to work out how she was different. Her hair was long and in some fancy plait, her uniform was clean, and she had real shoes on, not sneakers. There was a cane basket in her hand, with an expensive lunchbox and some knitting showing. Nothing like Jane and Daniel, with their crumpled, splotched uniforms and hamburgers.

“Hi, Andrew,” she said, throwing in a wriggle as she went past.

Jane leaned forward and said, “FDO,” to Lin and me under her breath.

“What’s that?” Lin asked, keeping her voice down.

“’Fucks Doctors Only’,” Daniel explained.

Dr. Maynard nodded. “Registrar’s Mattresses. You’ll get to pick them; they invariably work in ICU.”

Lin and I exchanged glances, then we both burst out laughing. Jane waved a chip at us and said, “Sure, you think it’s funny now. Just wait until you’re a resident, it won’t be quite so funny, then, especially if they find out you’re planning on specialising in something profitable.”

“Not gen med,” Dr. Maynard said. “Orthos make a decent living, but I’ve always thought dermatology was the way to go for a career path. None of your patients ever die, none of them get better, and you never have to get out of bed in the middle of the night. Either of you thought about what area you want to work in?”

I shook my head. “Just getting through finals is enough of a goal at the moment. Getting through and not stuffing up badly.”

Lin said, “I really like lab work. I’d like to do micro.”

Dr. Maynard stared at Lin for a moment. I must admit I thought she was pretty weird, too. “I don’t think either of you have anything to worry about with your finals. And you’ll both make damn good doctors.”

I was inordinately pleased with Dr. Maynard’s praise, and wished I shared his confidence in our abilities.

“Hospitals are strange,” I said, and everyone besides Lin cracked up. She just nodded sympathetically beside me.

Smart one, Blake. Now I looked even more like an idiot.