Protecting What's Mine(19)

Freida and Tuesday shared a knowing look. “The better we know our patients, the higher the level of care we can provide,” Freida said with a sweeping gesture as if addressing a crowd.

“Perhaps it’s not the way everyone does medicine, or should I say business,” a man’s voice carrying an obvious opinion interrupted them.

Dr. Russell Robinson was a lean, well-dressed man with dark skin, close-cropped hair, and a beauty mark-like mole on his right cheek. He wore a jaunty bowtie under his white coat and a frown.

“Dr. O’Neil.” He offered his hand across the desk to Mack.

Apparently, it wasn’t a pleasure to meet her.

“Dr. Robinson.” She returned his firm handshake.

“Dr. Robinson is a semi-retired cardiac specialist,” Freida explained. “He usually works Thursdays, Fridays, and every other Saturday. But he agreed to help out extra this week and next while you get your feet wet.”

“My wife is a political consultant in DC,” he said, pride tinging his tone. “We divide our time between here and the city. I’m assuming you’ll make an actual effort here so my presence won’t be required full-time.”

It wasn’t a question.

“You don’t get into medicine to half-ass care,” Mack said firmly.

“No. But some get into medicine to play God,” he mused.

“Some. Others beat around the bush instead of getting to the point.” Mack had done what was necessary to survive her childhood, but as an adult, she didn’t tiptoe. If there was a problem, she walked right up to it and dealt with it.

Tuesday giggled nervously behind her.

“We don’t do assembly line care here, Dr. O’Neil. Patients come first. We’re about quality of life. So if you don’t think you’ll be able to care about our patients beyond writing a prescription or slapping on a bandage, I suggest you save us all some time and go back to emergency medicine.”

“I’m here to learn how family practice works,” she said coolly. “Dr. Dunnigan seems to feel that I’m capable of providing the required level of care. So if you have concerns over my abilities, I suggest you raise them with her.”

“I have. Now I’m raising them with you. Do your job well, and we won’t have any problems.”

The man was succinct.

“Fair enough,” she said.

He turned to Tuesday and Freida, his expression warming considerably. “Ladies. It’s nice to see you, as always.”

“Hi, Dr. Robinson,” Tuesday greeted him cheerfully.

“I’ll be in my office until my next appointment if you need anything,” he said. He shot Mack one last warning look before disappearing down the hall.

“Sorry about that. Dr. Robinson is a little protective of the practice and our patients,” Freida said. “I’m sure he’ll warm up to you in no time.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Mack said.





“Well, this is it,” Trish sighed, locking the back door behind her.

She looked fondly at the building and patted the window in a silent goodbye.

It wasn’t too late, Mack thought foolishly.

Maybe Trish would have second thoughts and decide to stay in Benevolence. Mack could pick up rotations in the county hospital’s emergency department or say screw it and repack her barely unpacked boxes and high-tail it for the next high-adrenaline job placement.

But then Trish was smiling and holding out the keys.

Mack hesitated for the briefest of seconds, then took the key ring.

“Safe travels,” she said to her soon-to-be absentee boss. “Your practice and your patients are in good hands.”

Mack was confident in the medicine part. She was an excellent doctor. She just wasn’t sure what kind of bedside manner she could muster. Or if it would meet the judgmental Dr. Robinson’s exacting standards.

“Don’t worry about Russ,” Trish said, as if reading her mind. “He’ll warm up when he realizes you’re not here to hit quotas and sell kidneys on the black market.”

“Don’t you worry about Dr. Robinson or me or anything. We’ve got it covered,” Mack promised.

“I know you do. And I think you’re really going to end up enjoying Benevolence, Mackenzie.”

Visions of the shirtless firefighter in her backyard flooded her mind. Mack felt her cheeks flush.

“I’m sure it will be a memorable six months.”





10





Mack headed toward home with her windows down and the radio up. She would start officially on Monday and had a fluttering of nerves over the prospect. It would be good. She would be good. Dr. Robinson’s snooty reception had actually made her feel more comfortable. In her experience, every job came with its peacocking naysayers. She’d proven herself on more dangerous battlefields against tougher critics.

She’d rise to the challenge and show Robinson what she was capable of.

Mack punched the sun visor back up when she made the turn onto a tree-lined street and started thinking about dinner. And her backyard neighbor.

She’d been surprised every time his blue eyes popped into her mind during the day. A distracted doctor was a malpractice suit waiting to happen. So she’d efficiently boxed him up and set him out of her mind.