Conner by Victoria Denault

Author:Victoria Denault
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Victoria Denault

Chapter 18

Mac

I feel a burst of panic when I look up from my phone and see Dr. Fleury watching from the doorway. I quickly shove it into the pocket of my lab coat and sit straighter in the soft round chair in front of her desk. She walks in, closing the door behind her, and makes her way to the desk. She’s got her trusty tablet with her and her reading glasses low on her narrow nose.

She sits down and props the tablet up on an empty coffee cup on her desk. It's a Christmas-themed one that has a gingerbread house molded into the ceramic and a gingerbread man as a handle. She has also changed the decorative pillows on the small loveseat by the window to ones with embroidered pine trees on them. She does that, theme decorates every season. It's her quirk. Dr. Fleury is a very no-nonsense person in just about every other way except decor.

“Has he been picked up yet?” she asks as she positions herself in her chair.

“Not yet, but the internet is buzzing with rumors of interested…” I stop talking. How does she know I was looking up Conner?

Madeline smiles. “So, for once, the hospital rumor mill is right. You’re dating Conner Garrison?”

“You heard that? My god this place is horrible.” I can feel my cheeks heating and I can’t look her in her big brown eyes.

“I’m a born and raised Silver Bay girl, Mac,” Madeline reminds me. “The Garrisons are our royal family. We’ve been waiting for our Prince to find his Kate Middleton.”

“I’m more of a Meghan Markle,” I reply and then shake my head. “Actually, I take that back. I’m more of a nothing. I am not dating Conner. We’re friends.”

“Oh.” Madeline blinks and her expression says she thinks I’m lying, to myself or to her, I’m not sure. And maybe I am, so I avert my eyes again. She drops the subject and taps her tablet. “Okay let’s go through your cases.”

We spend the next forty minutes talking about the patients I’ve been consulting on. When we’re done with work we start the part of the mentorship that involves my mental health. Madeline, who is probably in her late fifties, but looks about ten years younger, pulls off her reading glasses and leans back in her leather desk chair. “You’ve been working more shifts than necessary again.”

"Not again, still," I admit sheepishly. She's warned me before, sternly, about burnout. "I wanted people to be able to spend the holidays with their loved ones. I, no matter what Silver Bay General whispers, don't have any loved ones in town so I pulled a few doubles. It should settle down now."

Madeline nods slowly and her brown eyes bore into me as she assesses everything about me from my demeanor to my body language to the way I still can’t hold her gaze. “So, you’re nearing the end of your residency here. Have you given more thought to your next steps?”

"I wish I

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