Page 5 of Quinton's Quest

He rolled his eyes. “Forgets where his glasses are when they’re on top of his head, but he’s a damn good surgeon.” He eyed me. “What have you seen so far?”

“Just the surgical suites.”

“Naturally, he started there. Why don’t I take you through the entire process that a patient goes through so that if they’ve got questions, you can answer them?”

I blinked. I hadn’t even considered this. I thought he might show me recovery and then to my new office. “Uh, certainly. If you believe that’s what’s best.”

“I believe medical professionals should be empathetic to their patients—especially those who are here for the first time.”

Whether he meant patients or me, I couldn’t be certain. “Well, can you spare the time?”

He pursed his lips.

His very kissable lips.

Sheesh, knock it off. That’ll never happen again.

“Marlena has assigned me to get you organized today. I have a few patients I want to check on, but that can wait. Let’s do a tour, shall we?”

“Look—” I took a breath. “I think—”

“Don’t think, okay?” He snapped that. “I know what you think, and I suggest you keep any other brilliant thoughts you might have to yourself. Now, our OR suites are always busy, so this willbe just a quick in and out. Abbotsford just keeps growing, and the hospital can barely keep up. Bursting at the seams.”

“Which is why they opened up a spot for me.” I was well-aware of the responsibilities associated with being the first of my specialty here.

“I must say, not having to send patients all the way to New West will be nice. I believe it’s always better to keep patients as close to home as possible.” He eyed me.

“That’s a wise observation.”

He guided us to a set of doors. He waved his keycard, and we were granted admittance.

“Hey, Grace. How are the kids?” Quinton offered a truly lovely smile.

Too bad it’s not directed at me.

“Jace has a bad cold. Flu shots are great—why can’t they make something for the common cold?” The lovely hazel-eyed woman’s blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. “But that’s just the mom in me who doesn’t want her kids to suffer. Lisa hasn’t caught it yet, but it’s just a matter of time, right?” She pivoted her attention to me. “Grace Bunson.” She squinted at my ID badge. “Dr. Rodgers?”

I nodded.

“Great! We’re looking forward to working with you.”

No hint of sarcasm or derision. But then she likely wouldn’t—to my face. God only knew what she and Quinton would say behind my back.

“I’m excited to be here.”

“We’re going to head out for a quick tour.” Quinton waved. “Thanks.”

Grace was already staring at her computer screen by the time we headed off.

The tour really didn’t take long. The place was bustling with energy as patients were moved through the various stages of pre-op, surgery, post-op, and then onto the wards or into the ICU. Everything appeared efficient. Nothing felt panicked.

“As you know, we focus on general surgery with some specialization. You’re the first of your kind.” Quinton said this in a rather neutral tone.

“You work in the surgical suite?” I followed him through another set of doors.

He shook his head. “I focus on patient care. I do shifts in post-op, but mostly I monitor patients once they’re on the wards. I do rotations wherever I’m needed.”

I whistled. “That’s unusual, right? Don’t most nurses pick a lane and stay there?”