Melting Dr. Grumpy's Frozen Heart
Author
Scarlet Wilson
Reads
19.2K
Chapters
13
HarlequinCHAPTER ONE
SKYE CAMPBELL WAS BUZZING—literally. She could feel the hum in the air around her. As she walked along the frosty Edinburgh pavement, she smiled in pleasure at the crunch of her steps. She loved this time of year. And Edinburgh did it so well.
Even though it was mid-November, the large Christmas tree that sat near the Scott Monument was already up and decorated in shades of purple, pink and silver. The Edinburgh Christmas market started this weekend, and her Christmas shopping was part way done. Skye only shopped online for things she couldn’t find in the shops. Whilst others hated the busyness of the shops at Christmas, she absolutely loved it. There was nothing nicer than watching people buying gifts for their loved ones, puzzling between colours or styles, sniffing samples of perfume in the department stores, or staring at the dazzling array of trainers in a sports shop. She was here for all that.
The Great Northern Hospital was lit up before her with a warm glow. Seven floors of glass, which had been specially constructed to allow patients to see out, but no one could see in. The effect from outside gave a tinged yellow and orange colour like a warm hug. She loved it. If she could meet the architect, she would shake their hand. She gave a sideways glance to Edinburgh Castle in the distance, proudly sitting on its ancient volcano site. She did this every morning, and today there was a hint of white around it. The temperature had dropped suddenly overnight and it seemed like Scotland had remembered it was the most wonderful time of the year.
As the main doors of the hospital slid open before her, her stomach gave a little flip. The whole main entrance was now decorated for Christmas. She’d been campaigning for it since the first of November, so she was glad they’d finally caved. Truth was, it was likely they’d caved to coincide with the city’s decorations outside.
White fairy lights were everywhere. A giant tree was cordoned off and could be seen from the few floors above that overlooked the main reception.
‘Morning.’ Skye waved to Ellis, who sat behind the reception desk, as she headed over to the lifts. She joined the lift with Max Robertson, the very serious paediatric surgeon. She shot him a smile, which he almost returned.
A few minutes later she was striding down the corridor towards her office. She was a tiny bit nervous this morning. She was continually driven in her job as an oncology doctor and researcher. Losing her father to the disease during her medical training had made her realise which direction she wanted to take.
Her friends joked about her being a double doctor. Being a doctor of medicine as well as a doctor of research had meant hard work. Long days and long nights. But she’d been used to that when she’d helped nurse her father towards the end. Other students had been partying. Enjoying the student and hospital social life. Skye had been exactly where she should have been—with her family. And part of the reason she was so determined to make this new project work was due to the subject matter. Time.
Her new ground-breaking study aimed to predict the growth of cancer. It didn’t sound pleasant. But anyone who’d worked as an oncologist knew that the first question a patient asked was how long they had. And it was a question a doctor could rarely answer with any confidence. It was always a best guess.
With a new wave of technology, and several early studies, Skye’s premise was that AI—artificial intelligence—could help answer that question. It held promise. The battle against cancer was fought on many levels, and hers—the art of learning about the disease and its progression—was only one.
The only downside was she’d just learned that world-renowned oncologist Jay Bannerman was temporarily transferring up from Great Southern Hospital in London. He was going supervise her research for the next six weeks. She needed someone with his credentials to sign off on the next stage of the project. He had huge credibility, and his patients loved him. He’d led lots of cancer studies in the past. But there was a downside—from reputation alone, and whispers from their sister hospital, he was not-so-secretly known as Dr Grumpy.
Skye was more than a little worried. He didn’t really fit with her personality type. She always tried to be positive, and tried to bring out the best in people around her. Her colleagues had nicknamed her Miss Sunshine and she didn’t mind it one bit.
But a research supervisor for this project was essential. Her original supervisor had gone into hospital for a knee replacement and was expected to be off for six weeks. As the surgery had been planned, so had the coverage. So, whoever Dr Bannerman really was, she’d just need to hope for the best. All she really needed him to do was give her a green tick.
As she did every morning, she bypassed her office—stopping only to throw in her laptop and bag—and headed to the nurses’ station in the oncology ward. It was the heart of their department—and where she could find out everything she needed to know. Indira, the ward sister, was doing a handover to all staff—allocating patients, making sure all tests would be followed up. She ran a tight ship. Skye loved working with her, and the rest of the staff in this ward. There was a real team spirit.
Connie, the ward receptionist, appeared with a large tray of biscuits, a wide smile on her face. The rest of the staff gave a little cheer and helped themselves. Skye listened to the rest of the handover, making a few mental notes of things to follow up.
One of the nurses handed over a firm envelope addressed to her. The writing on the envelope was beautiful, and as Skye opened and pulled out the cream card, her face broke into a wide smile, a warm feeling spreading inside her.
‘It’s an invite,’ she said, ‘to Fiona and Armando’s wedding.’ Fiona was a patient they’d treated over the last eighteen months, who’d finally managed to ring the bell that signalled the end of her treatment.
‘That’s fantastic,’ said Lleyton, the ward physio. ‘Didn’t they have to postpone initially because she was so sick?’
Skye nodded. ‘They did. But Fiona finally gets to have her special day.’ She hugged the card close to her chest. She’d sat next to Fiona whilst she’d sobbed during her treatments, and when she’d felt so sick. Seeing her out the other side was a delight. And it reinforced the hope she had for all her patients—that good things can happen, and life can get better.
A moment later she was distracted by the sight of a dark-suited man striding down the corridor towards them. She didn’t recognise him, but they often had visiting staff in the Great Northern.
Connie turned and held out the biscuit tray towards him. He didn’t even acknowledge her. Just kept walking, coming to a sharp halt and glaring at the white fairy lights strung from underneath the nurse’s station to the tops of the walls.
His gaze stopped dead on Skye. She had no idea who he was, but he better change his attitude fast. No one got to ignore Connie. Not on her watch.
She met his glare as she pointedly leaned forward to lift one of the delicious smelling biscuits.
‘Thank you, Connie,’ she said, smiling at Connie, but still side-eyeing the gentleman in the hope he would get the not-so-secret message.
He did get the message, looking her clearly in the eye. ‘I’m here to meet Dr Campbell, not eat sweets.’
There was an instant chill across her skin. That Irish accent. It sent shockwaves through her system, making her catch her breath. There was only one person who would be looking for her that she didn’t know. But she hadn’t expected him here for another few days. Wasn’t he moving up from London? How could he have got here so quickly?
And why did he have to look like that? Tall, with dark wavy hair, penetrating brown eyes and a lean body. He should be a leading man in some Hollywood rom-com.
In a wave of panic, she hoped her gaze hadn’t been obvious. Because she knew exactly how she wanted to come across to this man. It was clear he had no idea who she was, because he started to glance around, as if he expected Dr Campbell to appear out of thin air.
Skye took a quick glance down at her outfit. She wasn’t wearing her white coat, but was dressed in a long-sleeved, mid-length pink patterned dress, with buttons down the front and tied at the waist. It was a favourite.
‘I’m Dr Campbell,’ she said, knowing that all eyes were on them. ‘Follow me to my office.’
She didn’t wait. She walked back down the corridor, opening her office door and waiting as he came inside. Her nerves were jangling. She needed this guy to be on board with her research project, she really didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot—but it seemed that Dr Grumpy might not extend her the same courtesy.
She closed the door firmly and walked around her desk, sitting down and placing her arms on the desk. She leaned a little towards him.
‘Can I assume that you are Jay Bannerman?’
He gave the briefest nod, so she started talking. Better just to take the bull by the horns.
‘Dr Bannerman, we are a team around here. A team that works well together. I don’t want anything to disrupt my team. And a few moments ago? That was downright rude.’
His body gave a little jerk and he straightened up. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I’ll just put my cards on the table.’ She was careful with her tone, mindful that she knew nothing about this man, or his background. She tried to give him a smile. ‘No one is rude to Connie, not on my watch.’
‘Excuse me?’ he repeated. He kind of looked like a deer caught in headlights. His reputation as Dr Grumpy had travelled from one hospital to another. Had no one ever spoken to this guy about his manner?
She took a breath. ‘Connie is our receptionist. She’s been here since the hospital was built.’ Skye paused for a second. What she was going to reveal was generally known by everyone who worked here, but it felt like breaking a confidence.
‘Connie has had a really hard life. She was a victim of domestic abuse for years. It took her a while before she could tell someone and make plans to leave. Her grown-up daughter has alcohol issues. Connie deals with all this on her own. When Connie gets stressed,’ Skye gave a wave of her hand, ‘she bakes.’
His shoulders relaxed just a touch, as if he was beginning to understand where she was going with this.
‘So,’ Skye continued, ‘when Connie appears with tins of biscuits, or traybakes or loafs, we know. We know something is going on with her, and that she needs some support.’ Skye licked her lips and met those brown eyes. ‘That’s why I’ll never let anyone be rude to Connie on my watch, and...’ she paused ‘...I hope you won’t either.’
‘I’m not a social worker.’
Skye bristled, but her words stayed calm. ‘I’m not asking you to be a social worker, Dr Bannerman. I’m asking you to be kind and considerate to your colleagues.’ Then she just couldn’t help herself. ‘But with your length of time in the job, I really shouldn’t have to.’
There was a long silence. She hoped she’d handled this the way she should have. Tone was everything—Skye knew that. She hadn’t spoken angrily, or accusingly. She hoped everything she’d said had come across as kindly as possible.
This guy didn’t know her background. He didn’t know why she was here. For Skye, cancer research was personal. And she didn’t know his background, what had made him do years of training and decide that oncology was the place he wanted to work. She wasn’t here to make an enemy. But from the expression on his face, she was doubting she was making a friend.
She decided to push in another direction. ‘You know,’ she said breezily, ‘I am a huge Christmas fan. You’ll learn that over the next few weeks. My favourite movie is The Grinch. I’d hate for people to start calling you that.’
The edges of his mouth hinted upwards and he gave a sigh, as his eyebrows raised. The expression had the hint of a cheeky teenager about it. ‘My nickname is Dr Grumpy, and yes, I know that,’ he replied in that delicious, thick Irish accent.
‘And mine is Miss Sunshine,’ she replied, holding her hand out to his.
Jay Bannerman didn’t even hide his groan as he shook her hand. ‘This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?’
For a second—at least in Skye’s head—things froze. She was captured by the man sitting in front of her. Now she’d stopped focusing on everything else, she realised just how handsome he was. Discounting the fact that every time he spoke with his lilting accent, which sent a whole host of vibrations down her spine, even if he hadn’t opened his mouth, and she’d seen him in a bar, this guy was hot.
Skye didn’t mix business with pleasure. She’d never been interested in dating her colleagues.
But at least he was semi-smiling now, and she would take that. He stood up and straightened his suit jacket. ‘Let me go back and make a better impression on our staff, then you can show me where my office is, and hopefully point me in the direction of where to pick up my laptop. We need to talk about your research project.’
She felt a tiny chill on her skin. ‘Of course.’ She didn’t like the way her voice sounded.
He gave her the briefest of glances and then walked to the door. Jay didn’t waste any time—he walked back down the corridor to where Connie was sitting behind the nurses’ station. The tray of biscuits was sitting above her.
Jay walked around beside her and held out his hand. ‘Hi, Connie? I’m Jay Bannerman. I’m an oncologist from the Great Southern and I’m up here with special privileges to see patients, and to oversee Dr Campbell’s research project. We’ll be working together.’
Since Skye had been on his heels she’d heard every word. It appeared that Jay could turn on the charm when he chose to, and his Irish accent was almost therapeutic. If Connie was surprised, she hid it well, and shook his outstretched hand.
She didn’t get a chance to respond, as Jay lifted his other hand to grab a biscuit. ‘And I have it on good authority that you’re a wonderful baker, so thanks for the biscuit.’
It wasn’t an apology as such. But at least he was making an effort.
Connie gave a cautious nod. ‘If you need any assistance with anything just let me know, Dr Bannerman. I’m happy to help.’
He gave a nod. ‘Dr Campbell’s just about to get me set up with a laptop. I’ll let you know if I need anything.’
Connie gave a nervous glance and handed Skye a slip of paper. ‘You’ve just had a call about an emergency admission. GP is sending them straight up as he doesn’t want the patient going through A&E.’ Connie was very switched on and knew exactly what that meant. ‘Why don’t you go and call him and I’ll get Dr Bannerman his ID, show him his office and get his laptop set up?’
Skye took the piece of paper and read it quickly. ‘Sorry, Jay,’ she said automatically, ‘I’ll have to prioritise this patient.’
His brown eyes met hers for a moment. She couldn’t quite make out that expression. Calculating? He gave a small nod. ‘Since I have privileges, I’d like to see how things work. Why don’t you give me a shout when the patient arrives so I can familiarise myself with all the processes? I’m sure I’ll be in good hands with Connie up until then.’
She wanted to say no. She wanted to refuse to let him oversee her. She didn’t need him for that. The only thing he was supposed to do was oversee her research project. But that was making her oddly nervous too. She glanced down at the name on the paper. Leah McLeod—a teenage girl. That’s where her focus had to be.
Not on this doctor. Or what he thought of her. Or her project.
She fixed a smile to her face. ‘No problem at all. Thanks Connie, I’ll give you a shout when our patient arrives.’
And she walked quickly back to her office, phoned the GP and organised some tests for Leah’s arrival.
Jay Bannerman wasn’t quite sure if this was a good day or a bad day.
He hadn’t exactly made the impression he’d wanted to. But then again, he didn’t spend much of his life worrying about what people thought of him.
But the truth was—he wasn’t happy to be here, and he was having trouble putting a ‘face’ on. Yet another trick he’d never really mastered.
He’d worked at the Great Southern in London for ten years. Five of those years he’d been engaged to Jessica Morris, a fellow doctor. They’d agreed on a long engagement, not wanting to rush into marriage. But a year ago she’d broken things off, saying she wasn’t ready.
Now, she apparently was ready. But not for marriage to him. She’d just announced her surprise engagement to one of their colleagues—Peter Benson. And Jay really didn’t want to stay around and witness the fun.
He knew he had a bit of reputation for being serious and introverted. But since his break-up with Jess, he’d definitely got worse. As far as he was concerned, his patient care was still excellent, but he was reluctant to form any new friendships here in Scotland. He didn’t want any romantic entanglements with colleagues. He didn’t really want people knowing his business. The truth was, when it came to personal relationships now, he wasn’t sure he could trust his own judgement.
So, the fact that the person he was directly supervising looked as gorgeous as a movie star, and could clearly hold her own, was making every part of his body groan. Skye Campbell had dark curly hair that had been pulled back from her face, with surprisingly dark green eyes. Her pink dress suited her, it covered up every part of her, but still managed to show off her curves. Something he absolutely shouldn’t have noticed, or be focusing on.
His nickname of Dr Grumpy had clearly been no surprise to her. But, somehow, he knew it wasn’t his rudeness that had rattled her. He sensed something more. It was almost as if she were wary of him.
And she should be. He was there to assess her work, and to investigate any potential controversies over the use of artificial intelligence in the prediction of cancer growth rates. As with all research projects, it had gone through countless committees before approval and funding. But he still had a number of valid questions he needed to raise with her.
‘Dr Bannerman?’
He looked up from the desk. Connie had escorted him to HR, security and then IT. He now had an ID badge and security pass, white coat, his emails transferred and his laptop set up. Connie was just linking him to a few hospital systems specific to their ward now.
She took a few moments to show him where to access test results and how to order bloods, X-rays, ECGs and a whole range of other tests—all things that happened on a daily basis in the oncology unit.
She showed him where the research study data was stored, and how to access patient records. Connie was exceedingly good at her job.
‘I don’t think I’ve missed anything, but if you think of something, just let me know.’
She pulled up the ward details and nodded at the admission list. ‘Looks like Leah McLeod has arrived.’ She turned the laptop around to Jay and pointed at the young woman’s name. ‘If you click here, you’ll be able to pull up her records.’
Jay sat back and nodded. ‘Thanks very much, Connie, you’ve been a big help.’ He shot her the best smile he could. ‘It’s much appreciated.’
He could see the expression on Connie’s face, and the slight relaxation of her shoulders. He got it. He got why Skye was protective over her colleague. There were good intentions here, and he would be more mindful in future.
He scanned Leah’s records and the brief notes from the GP that had referred her. Leah had presented at the surgery with some classic signs, and the GP had taken some bloods before he’d sent her to hospital. Jay could see the blood results now.
He gave a nod and stood up, asking Connie which bed, and heading to the side room where he knew Skye would already be. He wondered if she would have told him Leah was here or just ploughed on without him. But as he reached the door, she gave him a smile and waved him in.
‘Leah, this is Dr Bannerman, the other doctor I said would see you too.’
Leah was as pale as the hospital bedsheets. Her father—an extremely anxious looking man—was standing against a wall. He looked like he might be sick.
Jay walked over and put a hand on his arm. ‘Mr McLeod? I’m Jay Bannerman. Let me assure you that we’re going to look after your daughter.’
Skye positioned herself next to the bed, glancing at Jay. ‘I’ve got the notes from your GP, and I spoke to him earlier when you were on the way up. He told me you had a UTI last week, and it looks like you’ve a chest infection this week. You’ve noticed some bruising. You had a couple of knocks recently and it’s been difficult to control the bleeding.’
Leah gave an anxious nod. ‘I play hockey. At least I did until last week. But this week I just couldn’t breathe.’
She pulled back the covers to show Skye the top of her leg. ‘I clashed with someone else. I’ve never bruised like this before.’
The angry bruise was still red and purple. A week-old bruise would normally have faded slightly, and the edge turned yellow. There were also plasters on her knees.
Jay moved to the other side of the bed. ‘Did you skin your knees at the same time?’
Leah nodded and frowned. ‘But they just keep bleeding. They haven’t even scabbed yet.’ She looked down at the inside of her elbow, where a cotton wool ball was held in place with some tape. ‘Even where Dr Gillespie took blood—it’s still bleeding.’
Skye lifted her stethoscope from around her neck. ‘If it’s okay, I’d like to listen to your chest. If we think you have a chest infection, we’ll start you on antibiotics right away.’
Leah leaned forward and Skye gave her instructions to breathe in and out slowly, before moving her stethoscope around to the front and nodding as she listened.
She looked over to Jay and Leah’s father. ‘I’m going to pull the curtains for a second, just to check Leah’s lymph nodes.’
Jay helped tug the curtain around. Leah’s dad looked a bit confused. ‘There’s lymph nodes at your neck, under your arms and in your groin area,’ he explained. ‘Because your daughter’s a teenage girl, we try to give some privacy.’
He nodded, still looking overwhelmed by everything. ‘My wife’s away on a business trip in Germany. She says she’ll get the first flight back she can.’ He shook his head and blinked back tears. ‘As soon as the doctor said he was sending us up to the oncology ward...’ His words tailed off.
Skye pulled the curtains back. ‘So, Leah’s lymph nodes are swollen.’
‘What does that mean?’ asked Leah. ‘Why is everyone so worried? And why do I feel so rubbish?’
Skye gave him the briefest look. She was doing a great job. He was impressed. And he wanted to be clear they were a team.
He sat down next to Leah. ‘We’ll need to run a few more tests. But from your symptoms, and your initial blood tests, we think you could have a condition called acute lymphoblastic leukaemia. The only way we can get a definite diagnosis is if we do something called a bone marrow biopsy. And we’d like to do that tonight if we can.’ He watched Leah carefully. ‘Your dad says your mum is coming back. If your mum can get a flight today, we can wait until she’s here to do the next test. Dr Campbell and I are happy to wait.’
Skye reached over and squeezed Leah’s hand. ‘I’ll explain everything about the test to you. Don’t worry.’
‘Leukaemia is cancer.’ Leah blinked.
Skye nodded and kept her hand over Leah’s. ‘It is. It’s a cancer of the blood. And we have lots of ways to treat it. We can talk all that over too.’ She looked over at Mr McLeod. ‘Would you be able to find out if your wife has managed to get a flight tonight? And is there anyone else you would like to call?’
Mr McLeod looked like a deer caught in headlights.
Jay put an arm behind him, guiding him to the door. ‘Leah, why don’t you write a list of everything you want your dad to bring from home? It’s likely you’ll need to stay with us for a few days. So, comfy clothes, a tablet if you have one, any toiletries you want, books?’
Skye pulled a tiny notepad from the pocket of her satin dress and handed it over. ‘Favourite sweets,’ she said with a smile. ‘That’s what I always tell people to put first on their list.’
‘Am I going to lose my little girl?’ asked Mr McLeod as soon as they stepped outside.
The door was still open and Jay could see Skye talking to Leah and keeping her occupied. He was always honest with his patients and their relatives and he hated this part. But this was him, this was his job. ‘I certainly hope not. The odds are in her favour. She’s fifteen—the younger the diagnosis, the better the chances. Overall, we look at the five-year survival rate and for this disease it’s around sixty-five percent. Lots of things affect this, and I’ll talk to you about it all. But first, let’s get her chest infection sorted and her bone marrow biopsy done. We have lots of treatments, and it all depends on how Leah reacts to them. If one kind of treatment doesn’t work as well as we hoped, we have other options. We also have some clinical trials. Honestly?’ He looked Mr McLeod in the eye. ‘Your daughter is in one of the best hospitals. And we’ll be with you every step of the way.’
For a moment Jay honestly thought the man in front of him was going to collapse. There was no one else around them. He could hear quiet voices in the unit. After a few seconds he saw a wave of a hand at the bottom of the corridor. It was one of the healthcare support workers dressed in a grey tunic. The staff member pointed to a chair in a kind of query, and Jay gave a small nod, as the guy quickly retrieved one and brought it along the corridor to them.
The healthcare support worker was an older man, built as if he did weights. He slid the chair next to Mr McLeod and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘What can I get you? Tea? Coffee, or something sweet to drink?’
‘Coffee,’ said Mr McLeod automatically, his legs folding beneath him as he collapsed onto the seat. ‘Thank you,’ it came out absentmindedly as his phone beeped.
He looked up at Jay. ‘I almost didn’t take her to the GP. My wife usually takes care of that kind of stuff. But her colour—she was just so pale. And she’d felt off for the last few days. We just couldn’t really put our finger on anything but...’ His voice tailed again and Jay lowered himself so he would be at eye level with Mr McLeod.
‘Onset can be really rapid. You did the right thing.’ He took a breath as he let the man collect himself a bit. ‘Your phone—was that your wife?’
He looked surprised for a moment, then pulled the phone from his pocket. Jay could see how relief swamped his body. ‘She got on standby at Berlin airport and someone gave up their seat for her.’ His voice broke a little. ‘How nice is that?’
Jay gave a smile. ‘People can surprise you sometimes.’
He was conscious of Skye and Leah still in the side room. He could tell that Skye was having a serious conversation with Leah, and was holding her hand as she spoke to her. He could only hear a few words, but Skye was encouraging Leah to ask questions.
Mr McLeod took a deep breath. ‘Her flight takes off in forty-five minutes. She lands at five o’clock and will come straight here.’
Jay gave him a smile. ‘That’s great news.’ He looked up as the healthcare support worker approached, carrying a tray with two steaming cups and a plate of chocolate biscuits—and some of Connie’s cookies.
‘Why don’t I take this into Leah’s room? Hot chocolate for her, and coffee for you.’
The healthcare worker headed in and put the tray down on the table next to Leah, who immediately looked up in surprise. Skye took her cue to leave, to let dad and daughter talk to each other, and walked out to join Jay again.
He was impressed by how seamlessly the team did things around here. The ward had a calm atmosphere, and the staff seemed to anticipate the needs of the patients well.
‘Who is the healthcare assistant?’
‘That’s Ronnie, he’s our gentle giant, but also our security guard when required.’
‘You have trouble on the ward?’ Jay was surprised by this.
‘Emotions are always heightened on an oncology ward.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘Either it’s warring sons and daughters over their mum or dad, or divorced parents over a child.’ She gestured her hand down to the fairy lights on the desk. ‘And whilst I love Christmas, for some families it’s a hard time of year.’
She licked her lips for a second and gave him a careful stare. It was hard not to be captivated by those dark green eyes. But his heart had already sunk a little. He generally knew what a look like that meant.
‘Dr Bannerman,’ she said quietly.
‘Yes?’ He kept his face straight. He wasn’t going to show any sign of weakness.
‘I appreciate you have a great deal of knowledge in treating cancers. But...’ she glanced over her shoulder, back to the room where Leah and her dad were ‘...I’m not sure Mr McLeod was ready for news like that.’
‘I’m not sure he was either. But he asked me a direct question. I don’t lie to my patients or their relatives, Dr Campbell.’ If she wanted to be formal, so could he.
He’d already seen her in action with Leah. She was one of these people who had a natural rapport with others, who could engage at their level and be their friend.
‘I’m their doctor,’ he reiterated. ‘Not their friend.’
Skye pulled something slightly bent from the pocket of her dress. ‘But sometimes we can be both,’ she said easily.
He could see from first glance it was a wedding invitation.
She held it up. ‘This is from a patient we all treated for the last eighteen months. I find it impossible not to form therapeutic relationships with my patients.’
And he could already see that. He’d love to be that kind of doctor, but that had always been a struggle for him.
She bowed her head a little, though it wasn’t in any way deferential. She was obviously finding a way to say something. She lifted her head again and met his gaze. ‘We’ll find a way to work together well. I would have waited until Mrs McLeod was here to do the biopsy and give the news to the family together, but that’s too late now. Perhaps,’ she licked those lips again, and Jay tried to focus on something else, ‘in future, we could have a chat about breaking bad news and maybe I could do that part?’ She gave a wary smile. ‘You could do the part about what type of treatment you recommend, since that’s your area of expertise?’
She framed it as a question, but he wasn’t naïve enough to know that this woman had just told him how this should go.
‘I’ll consider it.’ He tried not to outwardly bristle.
Her face broke into a wide smile. ‘Good,’ she said, then gave him a cheeky wink as she started down the corridor. ‘And here was you thinking this was going to be a disaster.’
