And the OR, a place that he used to love, was now a place he loathed.
“I don’t have surgical privileges at this hospital,” he said and he hoped that would be enough to deter her. It was usually enough to deter other surgeons who asked him questions that he wasn’t comfortable answering.
“I’m not asking you to assist, but this is your patient too.”
She was right, but he just couldn’t go in there. Even though he missed it. Even though he had been a damn good surgeon before his shoulder had been destroyed. When his hands could grip properly.
When his back wasn’t so marred with scars from a surgery that had been botched.
The OR had been a place he loved. A chance to do the work he loved. It was exciting and challenging yet it grounded him. Almost as much as surfing. There was a thrill in the operating room, just like when he was on a board and shredding the nar.
And now he couldn’t do either.
At least he could coach Jack in surfing. At least he could be there as Jack’s sports medicine physician and get him to the world championships. Provided Lana and he were able to pull off this farce of a marriage.
“I’m sorry, Lana, but I can’t. I have other patients to see. I am the orthopedic doctor on call tonight. I diagnose them, you operate on them.”
She looked as if she was going to say more, but instead she nodded. “Okay, well, just make sure his labs get done and his family is notified. I’ll send a resident to come fetch him when it’s time to go to the OR. Start him on some antibiotics as well.”
I know.
“Will do.”
Lana nodded and left him. Andrew gripped the clipboard, his one good arm holding it tightly but his other arm shaking because it was weak and for that he hated himself a bit.
* * *
The surgery was almost textbook. Several times Lana looked up in the gallery to see if Andrew was up there, like he had been before, but he wasn’t. He was so afraid of the operating room.
What had happened?
She knew he had been a surgeon up in Canada. And she knew that he’d been a successful one. A sought-after surgeon who was innovative and ground-breaking. So why had he given it up?
Her father would grant Andrew surgical privileges in a heartbeat if Andrew gave any indication that he wanted to get back into the operating room. It actually made her a bit nervous when he did watch her.
Andrew had developed a bone flap method known as the Tremblay that was being used widely in Canada and across most states. Yet he had never offered to show anyone that technique. She’d always thought he just wanted to keep it to himself for job security, but now that he kept refusing to go into the operating room, and didn’t ask for surgical privileges, she couldn’t help but wonder more.
And she wondered if it had something to do with the shoulder and arm that seemed to grieve him the most.
Muscle tension, my ass!
Once she’d made sure their tourist patient was comfortable, out of the recovery room and in the care of a nurse that spoke French fluently she was able to finally go home for the night.
As she was gathering up her stuff, including the garment bag which held the dress for the gala tomorrow night, she passed by the Attending lounge. Drawn by the flicker of the television screen, she peered in the door.
Andrew was in there; he was leaned over, staring intently at the screen. He was watching a surfing semifinal, but she didn’t know from what year and it was too far away to make out who the surfer was.
When the surfer, riding on an enormous wave, fell off the board she winced.
That had to be a hard fall.
Andrew flicked off the television and then leaned over, his face buried in his hands, but only for a moment as he dragged his hands through his hair. She could see him mouthing curse words through the window.
She backed away from the Attending lounge because she didn’t want him to see her standing there, staring at him.
It was bad enough that when he was around she had a hard time focusing. He made her hot under the collar. He was dangerous to be around.
She’d had her heart broken by a cad before. Ever since then she’d learned not to allow herself near men like Andrew Tremblay.
Except you’re marrying him in forty-eight hours.
Lana shook her head. She had to get out of here.
Tomorrow was her day off, thankfully. All she wanted to do was get home, shower and get a good night’s sleep. And tomorrow morning she’d hit the beach with her board and just forget everything for a while.
It had been a long time since she’d surfed. Usually she was too busy, but tomorrow was a good time to burn off some steam. Some frustration and some sexual tension that she was experiencing lately since she had to deal with Andrew Tremblay on a regular basis.
She only hoped the weather cooperated or she might do something she’d regret the next morning.
And the thing was, she was going to have to stay married to her possible regret for a year.
There would be no escape. No easy out if she decided to walk down that uneasy path. She was too far down the rabbit hole now; there were too many people she’d disappoint if she backed out of the marriage of convenience now.
She was just going to do everything in her power not to fall prey to Andrew Tremblay’s charms.
Easier said than done.
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