One Night To Change Their Lives. Tina Beckett
What she was surprised at was that he’d written to her personally. And at the funny twist to her stomach when she’d opened the envelope and realized who it was from.
But at least he hadn’t called her back into his office to break the news to her. Their last meeting had made her squirm. Maybe because she’d called attention to his hand, when she hadn’t meant to. She’d gone all defensive, trying to deflect his attention to something other than her.
He’d been right to chew her out. But he hadn’t needed to. She did know her limits. And she loved her job too much to risk driving while exhausted. Which was why she’d been known to leave her car in the parking lot and take a taxi.
Did he call every single doctor who worked overtime into his office? She didn’t think so. Which meant he had seen some kind of warning sign.
She’d heard that the fiery crash that damaged his hand had almost cost his life as well. That thought made her heart ache. He’d been one of the best neurosurgeons in the country. And it had all been snatched away in a split second. He’d then gone from New York City to the shores of South Beach.
Why so far away?
Maybe, like her, he’d felt he needed a change of scenery. A new start. Maybe she needed to do the same—like go from South Beach to New York.
Except she was a Florida girl. Born to a family of Italian immigrants, but a true surfer girl at heart. With her dark hair, she didn’t exactly look the part, but she didn’t care. Those waves had coaxed her back to the water time and time again.
In fact, she’d met Leo Santini during a surfing contest five years earlier, when she’d been undergoing another crisis—with her mom, this time—and had fallen in love. Looking back, she realized their quick romance had been a desperate attempt on her part to claw her way out of a dark hole, but the effort had backfired. As her mom’s condition had continued to deteriorate, their marriage had begun to change gears too. Their surfing trips had dwindled to nothing over the space of a year. She still caught an occasional wave, but Leo had turned in his board for the party scene, something she had no interest in at all. She should have seen the breakup coming. Talk about warning signs. She’d missed them all.
But no more.
Maybe she needed to take her board and head to the beach on Wednesday, her next day off. Then her boss wouldn’t be able to say a word about her working too many hours. And maybe it would clear her head and help her find her equilibrium again. Just the thought made her pulse pick up its pace. How long had it been since she’d paddled through the surf, looking for that one great wave?
Too long. That was what she’d do.
Taking a pen, she sat down and crafted her reply to Garret. And she could do it in fewer words than he had: “Very sure.” Rather than mail it, she would drop it on his desk. In person. Probably not a good idea, but it was the best way she knew to make the break from Leo definitive, not that it wasn’t already.
Shoving the note back into its envelope, she hurried to get ready for the day. Then tonight she would drag her surfboard out of the spare bedroom and check the weather in hopes that conditions—in more ways than one—were perfect.
THE EMERGENCY ROOM wasn’t as busy as it normally was. Sometimes the room was full, medical personnel running back and forth. But it was still early, and the hospital was exceptionally good at triage. His hospital in New York had also had a great quick-response team that could handle multiple trauma cases at the drop of a hat. That attention to skill and speed had probably saved his life after his accident, even though he could only remember bits and pieces of what happened.
Winding his way through the space as he often did on Monday mornings, he mentally kept track of what he saw. He’d made it a habit to visit a different department at the beginning of every workday. Not so much to check up on everyone as to make sure people felt comfortable approaching him. That they felt as if they were being heard.
The last thing he wanted was to be one of those aloof bosses that sat in his office issuing edicts and making sure everyone followed them to the letter. He wanted people to stay at the hospital because they wanted to, because it had an atmosphere that was conducive to sticking around.
Which was why when he’d sensed Addy might want to move on, he’d reacted so strongly. Right?
The emergency-room doctor had caught his attention, and not just because of her hours. Her colleagues talked as if she were some kind of superhero.
Was he sure that wasn’t why he was here now? To make sure the hospital’s star player wasn’t going to burn herself out?
Or was it more personal than that?
Nope. It was Monday. He was simply sticking to routine.
And the envelope he’d found on his desk this morning? She’d arrived even before he had. Had she not heard a single word he’d said?
Nodding to a staff member who made eye contact, he suddenly wondered if he should have skipped coming down here. He didn’t want Addy to think he was seeking her out.
Because he wasn’t.
Pivoting on his heel, he almost ran over the very person he was now hoping to avoid.
“Dr. Stapleton.” Her wide eyes and breathless tone made him smile. Okay. So maybe it wasn’t just him feeling awkward.
“Garret, remember? Everyone else calls me by my given name.”
“Oh. Of course.” She glanced at the electronic file-storage device still in her hands. “Did you get my note?”
“You mean the one that was lying on my desk when I arrived?”
“I always get here at six.” Her quick response was defensive, and her eyes came up to meet his. “I’m off on Wednesday, though. I’m actually planning on surfing.”
“Surfing as in the internet?”
Her head cocked sideways. “No. Surfing as in at the beach.” Her hand twirled through the air. “In the ocean. Catching waves.”
“You—surf?” A quick image of Addy flashed through his skull. A wetsuit? Or, worse, a bikini? He suddenly wished he hadn’t asked her to clarify her response.
Up went her brows. “This is South Beach. Doesn’t everyone?”
“I haven’t taken a survey recently.”
She laughed. “Sorry. I just thought that most Floridians… Oh, wait. You’re from New York. Sorry. Coming here must have been a big change for you.”
His imaginings died a painful death.
“Not as big as other changes.” His hand curled next to his side. Why had he just said that? “Both places have a lot of people. And a need for good medical care.”
“Of course.” She hesitated. “Do you still do consulting at all?”
“Sorry?”
“On cases. I had a head trauma come in the other day and the neurologist on duty was tied up in surgery. It took a little longer to get the patient evaluated than I would have liked.”
“Did it change the outcome?”
“The patient didn’t make it. But no, the outcome probably would have been the same. But it would be nice to know there’s someone else I can call if the need arises.”
His jaw tightened. No one at Miami’s Grace had asked him that question before. Which was another reason he’d relocated. If people didn’t think of him as a neurosurgeon, they wouldn’t treat him like one. Did he really want to open that door? Then again, did he want to risk a patient’s life by refusing?
“I don’t do surgery anymore.” Said