“Your résumé already got you this job, Ms. Mowak. You don’t need to recite it for me, and the fact that you are speaks to your insecurity, which I’m guessing has something to do with your attitude. Your approach is my concern because I have to work with you. And the respect I’m talking about is the respect you should innately have toward a fellow medical professional whose job and reputation you put on the line because you chose to smear mud all over a patient.”
“It’s clay.” Her tone was flat, but her shapely black brows arched higher and Tag had no idea what that look was supposed to convey.
Waving a hand, he said, “Whatever. Since we’re sharing our qualifications, I am going to give you a piece of advice based on my eighteen years of experience as an EMS-P, my fifteen years as a volunteer firefighter, and a lifetime as both a friend and a big brother. If you don’t want people to notice your age, don’t draw attention to it.”
“You’re the one who brought it up.”
“That’s true. But I—” Biting back the words he’d been about to say—I’m not used to people questioning my skills—he went with “I shouldn’t have. For that, I apologize.”
A head tip told him she acknowledged the mea culpa.
Exhaling, he checked the time on his watch. This meeting had been an epic fail, and he had no hope of turning it around at this point. He’d promised his sister Hannah he’d give her a hand with some repairs up at the ski resort this morning before his flight to Anchorage at noon. He needed to wrap this up.
“For now, I’m going to quit wasting both our time. Maybe we should meet with Dr. Ramsey and talk about our professional expectations?”
“That would be fine.”
“Good. I’ll set it up.”
* * *
ALLY STARED AFTER HIM. At least he’d suggested the meeting with Flynn and not Dr. Boyd. She had no more time than that to dwell on it, though, because the phone on her desk let out a buzz. She answered it and proceeded to deal with the first call for the job she’d actually been hired to do. She tackled paperwork and fielded calls until lunchtime, when she placed one of her own to Louis’s mom, her aunt Gina, who Ally knew was sitting vigil in his room.
Quinn was there, too, she learned, so she headed to the hospital’s cafeteria and ordered cheeseburgers, fries and strawberry shakes for them all. In the room, she was heartened to see Louis already sitting up, laughing and chatting with Quinn. At least she’d made the right call regarding his injuries.
When her break was over, she said goodbye to her family and promised to stop by again when she could. The afternoon was spent visiting patients and their families, assessing their needs and making notes about any questions or concerns they had regarding hospital, hospice or at-home health care.
The interaction with patients revived her, reminding her why she wanted this job. Back at her office, she immediately began cataloging the patients’ needs while they were fresh in her mind. One was ready for palliative care, so she called the hospice and set up a meeting for the patient and her family.
The remainder of her day consisted of more phone calls, emails, strategizing, and plotting out her to-do list and schedule for the next week. Just past six, a knock sounded on her door and relief flooded through her when she discovered this one had a much friendlier form attached to it than the morning’s.
“Flynn, hi.”
A dimpled grin transformed the young doctor’s already handsome face into a combination of sweet and gorgeous. Too bad she thought of him like family. With no siblings of her own, he was as close to a big brother as she could imagine. Their grandfathers were friends, so Ally and Flynn had known each other since childhood.
Flynn’s grandfather—“Doc,” as he was more commonly known in Rankins—had always welcomed her grandfather’s advice as a Native healer and doctor. Likewise, Abe had never had a problem calling on Doc when modern medicine was needed. A friendship had sprung up early in both of their respective careers, one based on mutual respect.
An image of Tag James flashed into her mind, embarrassment rushing through her because she realized in that moment that he’d been right about one thing: she’d been so concerned about his respecting her that she hadn’t shown him the respect he deserved.
Lowering himself into the chair Tag James had occupied that morning, Flynn said, “Hey. Good job with Dr. Boyd.”
“Thank you. I only wish all of my confrontations today could have gone as smoothly.”
Eyebrows a shade darker than his seal-brown hair darted up on his forehead. “Uh-oh. What else?”
“Among other affronts, I was told I need to work on my attitude.”
Scrunching his features into a grimace, he said, “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Not by a patient, though?”
“Of course not! It was a colleague. Although, in thinking about it now, I may have deserved part of it.”
“Well, honestly...” he drawled, pursing his lips as if thinking about the statement. “I’m not that surprised. You know you’re not exactly warm and fuzzy, right? Outside of patient care, I mean.”
“Yes, but I think basically this guy was telling me that he didn’t like me. Right before he made a crack about my age.”
“Ooh. How politically incorrect of him. I know how much you hate that.”
“Right? He apologized, but for some reason I let it get to me. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.” Working with her grandfather at his medical clinic, Ally had been given a lot of responsibility at a young age. She’d joined the Army at seventeen, but she’d looked even younger, so she’d grown accustomed to people asking about her age. At twenty-two, it was still a common occurrence. “I thought I was. But this guy...”
Why did she care what he thought? She didn’t, she reminded herself. She didn’t care what anyone thought about her. But she would apologize properly because they needed to work together.
“Never mind, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m using my energy to focus on the future. And right now, I’m focused on that dinner you promised.” Ally logged off her computer. “I believe fish and chips were mentioned?”
“Lucky you.” He held his hands aloft as if he were a prize she’d won. “That’s what I’m here for.”
She stood and stretched before stepping over to the corner behind her desk to fetch her bag.
“Speaking of the future—do you want to go to a party with me this weekend?”
“What kind of party?”
“It’s a welcome home, congratulations on getting your graduate degree party for my friend Iris. Casual, fun and there will be a ton of people.”
A party was exactly what she needed to meet people, make some connections, become a part of the community. She wanted people to get to know her before hearing about her and reaching the wrong conclusions, although she knew the “mud story” had probably already raced through town faster than a staph infection in an untreated wound.
“That would be wonderful, Flynn. Thanks.”
“WE’RE GOING TO the Cozy Caribou,” Flynn said after they exited the hospital. By silent mutual consent, they paused to admire the water of the bay sparkling below them like freshly ground glass. Thick green forest fanned