Undeniably Enemies: Chapter 7

“Okay, who’s next? Daffodil?” I ask as we stand by the nurse’s station doing rounds. I have four interns, six mid-level residents, a nurse practitioner, two nurses, and three medical students, including Wren, on my staff today. It’s seven thirty, change of shift happened thirty minutes ago, and I’ve got a large coffee that’s almost empty in my hand because I slept like shit last night.

Daffodil blushes and looks down at her notes. Not a great way to start impressing me, but I cut her some slack because she’s shy and anxious, not to mention sweet and good with patients and their families, even if she isn’t really cut out for the ER. She would have been an ace in pediatrics, but it’s her life.

“Um, well, the patient in room six is having a miscarriage. OB has been notified and⁠—”

“I need more details, Daffodil,” I cut her off.

She nods and starts to play with her hair. “Right. Uh. Thirty-two-year-old female, G1P0 at sixteen weeks gestation, presented overnight after a fall down the stairs. She is accompanied by her husband, and there are no indications of abuse. Ultrasound unfortunately confirmed fetal demise. OB is set to evaluate soon to discuss D&E.”

Shit. At least she’s here, and we can take care of her. “Better. I want you and Miss Fritz to closely monitor this patient until OB has come down and takes over. How is her mental state?”

“She’s a mess,” Wren boldly answers. “She and her husband are wrecked.”

Though I try to appear unaffected, she’s the reason I was up all night, and I’m in no mood for her now. “Call in a social worker and offer chaplain services if they’re interested⁠—”

“Already done,” Wren retorts.

I raise an eyebrow at her, and Daffodil beams a proud smile. “Miss Fritz got here early and was working with the night team on the case.”

Ah. Interesting. At least she’s trying to make up for her blunder yesterday.

“Glad to hear it, Miss Fritz. Keep me updated on her status. Who’s next?”

The next eager beaver to please reports on their patient, and once all of this is done, I head for the kitchen only to be stopped by Callan Barrows, the chief down here. He’s also a good man, an incredible father to Katy, a doting husband to Layla, and I like him a lot. Callan is one of the reasons I chose this ER.

“Hey, man.” He slaps my shoulder. “How’s it going with the new students?”

I glance down the hall, but we’re essentially alone other than people scurrying this way and that as they do their jobs. I turn back to him. “Good for the most part. They haven’t killed anyone yet, so it seems their residents are on top of it.”

He chuckles. “Always a nice start. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

His sober expression has me straightening my spine and giving him my full attention. “What is it?”

“I’m planning to step down as chief.”

That shocks me. “How come?”

He shrugs. “It’s just time. I’m a grandfather now that Katy has Willow, and with her and Bennett’s hours here at the hospital, I want to help out where I can. Layla and I have decided to watch Willow three days a week so she’s not in daycare for such long hours. It had been stressing Katy out, and I can’t have that.”

Katy is a type-1 diabetic and has had some issues with it, so I understand his concern for her health and well-being.

I smile despite this unhappy news. “I think that’s amazing of you and Layla to do.”

He chuckles, his eyes gleaming. “It’s not exactly a hardship. I’d spend every day with that little terror if I could. But with me stepping down, someone has to step up.”

Now my heart starts to thunder. I’ve only been here a year, so I didn’t think I’d be on the shortlist for that, but I’m hoping Callan’s about to change that for me.

“Do you have any candidates in mind?”

He smiles. “I have a few, Jack, but you’re one of them if you’re interested in applying for the role.”

Wow. Color me shocked. “Thank you. Yes, I’m very interested.”

“I thought you might be. Harrison is another one.”

I frown before I can stop it. Harrison Marshall is an incorrigible asshole—on a completely different scale and level from me. He loves nothing more than flirting and fucking his way through med students and interns despite the band on his hand and children at home. He’s no different than my old boss who fucked Tilly, though they did live together for about a year before she caught him fucking someone else. Or so I was told. I tried not to keep track. He’s also good-looking and effusively charming and likable to everyone. Everyone except me. He has been working here since his residency, whereas I’ve only been here a year, so that gives him an advantage over me.

“Anyone else?”

“Caroline already told me she wasn’t interested. The hospital will search for national candidates as well, but we like to promote from within.”

“Well, I’m honored that you thought of me, and I’m sad you’re stepping down, but I think your reason for doing it is about the best there is. I wish you the best with helping out with Willow because that girl is a terror like her mother.”

He laughs. “Thank you. She sure is.”

He slaps my shoulder again. “Go get back to work. I’ll catch you later, and the board will be in touch.”

I give him a wave and continue to the kitchen, needing an extra moment after that. And coffee. I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but hell, it is impossible not to. I wanted to be a trauma surgeon like my father, who used to work in this very hospital for as long as I can remember, and when my hand was sliced open and a nerve was severed, that dream died. The ER is the closest thing to that and doesn’t require the dexterity that a surgeon does.

To be chief…

No. Not going to do it. It’ll only be another disappointment when I don’t get it.

“You look tired, boss,” Wren notes from the kitchen doorway as she watches me set a K-cup and water in the Keurig. Christ. Can’t I get a break from her?

“Is there something you need, Miss Fritz? I believe I gave you an order to closely monitor your patient.” I don’t turn or give her my attention because I don’t want to notice how her hair is up in a tight bun on top of her head, showing off her long, graceful neck the way it was at the LA party, or how she has something on her eyelids that makes them shimmer ever so subtly, even with the harsh ER lights.

“If OB determines that the patient requires surgical intervention, may I go up to the OR with her?”

“This is your ER rotation, not OB.”

“I’m aware, but I’m hoping you’ll make an exception since the procedure generally is done in under an hour.”

“No.”

“For real? That’s a shame. Fine, I’ll go ask Dr. Marshall. He’s already asked me twice today if I need help with anything. He seems very friendly.”

That little brat. I don’t like that Dr. Marshall is already seeking her out. Not one fucking bit. He’s got some balls going after a Fritz in this hospital.

I grip my mug a little too tightly as I set it in the machine. “You must want this badly.”

She makes a noise in the back of her throat that almost sounds like a giggle. “Why do you say that?”

I turn my head over my shoulder as my cup fills with hot, black magic. “Because you’re being nice to me while trying to get a rise out of me.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t think you’d say yes if I told you that you look like shit, and your hair is standing up on top of your head.”

Instantly, my hand shoots up to feel for the errant pieces, and I end up brushing it back from my face just in case when I come up empty. Wren’s lips twitch, and I realize she was fucking with me. Again. God, she really is such a brat. I both love and hate that she just did that to me, and it worked. My palm twitches with the desire to spank her beautiful ass red for that, and I clench it into a fist to shut it down.

“So I don’t look like shit?”

She scoffs and folds her arms as she leans against the doorway. “You never look like shit. I don’t think that’s possible for you, even when you’re visibly tired, which is annoyingly unfair.”

I suppress the urge to smirk. “How’s that?”

“I’m not going to flatter you.”

“You started it.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “And now you’re fifteen?”

“You’re the one who just rolled her eyes at me. Plus, isn’t there something you want from me?”

She rolls her eyes again, this time for show. “Fine. Whatever. It’s not as though you don’t already know you’re scary hot. Everyone knows it and treats you like the sun, too beautiful and painful to look at. It’s one of the things I hate most about you, actually. If you weren’t so gorgeous, I never would have had such a big crush on you growing up.”

“What? You had a crush on me?” That knocks me sideways.

“The fact that you’re so oblivious is another trait I can’t stand. Yes. But I was very young and insanely naïve and didn’t know you were such an asshole. You can’t hold it against me. The hot older brother’s best friend trope is real.”

“Huh?”

She waves that away. “Anyway, I didn’t sleep well either, and I required a pound of concealer under my eyes to hide my bags and shimmery eyeshadow to brighten them. All you need is maybe a drop of Visine in each eye, and no one will be the wiser. It’s unfair.”

Hmm. Interesting. I twist to the side so I can face her better. “So I’m scary hot, and you had a crush on me?”

She grins as she rocks up onto the balls of her feet. “Yep. But don’t go getting your thong in a twist. That crush died a long time ago, and then you smashed it dead at the LA party.”

She leaves it there, and so do I, but I tuck that away in the will obsess over later file. Wren thinks I’m hot. Not just hot, but scary hot. And she had a crush on me for what sounds like years. I shouldn’t like that as much as I do, even if her saying I smashed it dead drags a frown to my lips and makes my insides twist painfully.

“Why didn’t you sleep last night?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not talking to you about my sleep or lack thereof. And I’m trying very hard to be nice. So what do you say?”

“No.”

Her lips part, and her eyes go wide and incredulous. “You’re unbelievable. Why?”

“I already told you why.”

She shoots over to me and glares defiantly. “I happen to know you’ve allowed other students to do similar things when other specialties have come down. So this is about me, right?”

I shift in front of her even though my coffee is done brewing and I need to get to work. “Why didn’t you sleep last night, Wren?”

“Why don’t you fuck off, Jack?”

I smirk. “You know I’m your boss, right? I could write you up or keep you cleaning bedpans for your entire rotation for mouthing off to me like that. Though I don’t think you care. You like saying that to me too much. That and calling me an asshole.”

“I like a lot of things. I like saying fuck off and calling you an asshole because it feels good, and right now, I think you’re too tired and apathetic to bother with punishing me for it. I like the fall and football and ridiculous shoes that pinch my toes. I like baking without a recipe and looking up vacations I want to take one day. I like my coffee the same color as your heart. Black.” She reaches around me, picks up my cup, and without blowing on it, takes a sip. “I just don’t like you.”

She hands me the mug, and I stare down at the sticky spot where her lips just touched and the residue of gloss she left. Our fingers brush, and it’s the same as it’s always been. I’d just forgotten since it’s been so long since I’ve touched her. It’s the same crackling energy that hums between us.

It’s a vibe. A tingle up your spine or goose bumps on your skin. It’s the promise of clothes-ripping, sweaty, great sex. It’s what I felt the first time I touched her at the party and every time I have since, and right now it’s fucking with me.

Like she does.

I pull my cup away from her, and just so I can get her out of my ER for a bit and away from me, I say, “If OB determines your patient is surgical and they say it’s okay, you can accompany them up to the OR. Considering it’s likely your father, mother, or Keegan coming down, I’m sure they’ll allow it.”

A smile lights up her face, and I feel it ricochet in my chest. “Thank⁠—”

“But you’ll return immediately after she is moved to the PACU and make up the hour you missed. I don’t give a shit if you came in early today. That doesn’t count as far as I’m concerned.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

“And Wren?”

She pauses, halfway out the door, but doesn’t turn around.

“If you tell me to fuck off again or call me an asshole in this hospital, I will, apathetic or not, make your next four weeks here hell. Now leave me the fuck alone and do your job so I don’t have to talk to you.”

Smartly, she leaves without a response, and I stare down at my cup, already trying to talk myself out of what I’m about to do, but knowing I’ll do it anyway. I put my mouth exactly where hers just was and take a sip even if I don’t like my coffee as black as my heart. I get a hint of her strawberry gloss, and for a second, it shoots me back to that night, to the flavor of the drink we shared.

I close my eyes, mentally berating myself.

It’s only been two days of her, and I’m already like this. Christ, that woman needs to go, or I’ll never make it through these four weeks.