Code Blues by Melissa Yi Page A
Authors: Melissa Yi
Tags: Suspense, Chick lit, Romance, Medical, Women's Fiction, doctor, nurse, hospital, Women's Adventure, Suspense & Thriller, romance adult fiction, Emergency Medicine, romance action adventure, Medical Care, womens fiction chicklit, physician, medical humour, medical humor, emergency, emergency room, womens commercial fiction, medical conditions, medical care abroad, medical claims, physician author, medical student, medical consent, medical billing, medical coming of age, suspense action, emergency management, medical controversies, physician competence, resident, intern, emergency response, hospital drama, hospital employees, emergency care, doctor of medicine, womens drama, emergency medical care, emergency department, medical crisis, womens fiction with romantic elements, physician humor, womens pov, womens point of view, medical antagonism, emergency services, medical ignorance, emergency entrance, romance action, emergency room physician, hospital building, emergency assistance, doctor nurse, medical complications, hospital administration, physician specialties, womens sleuth, hope sze, dave dupuis, david dupuis, morris callendar, notorious doc, st josephs hospital, medical resident
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up to reveal lightly tanned forearms.
At least he wasn't dressed in mourning,
except for his black pants. And he held a beer in his right hand. I
gave him a half-smile.
He returned it with a sly grin. Then he
swooped down so close that his stubble brushed my cheek.
I tipped back on my heels.
Undeterred, he pressed a hearty, wet,
smacking kiss on my left cheek. I ducked away from contact on my
right.
He laughed and backed off, saluting me with
his beer. "You're from Ontario, right?"
"Yeah." I glowered at him.
"You'll get used to it." Still laughing, he
shook his head and strode into the next room.
I wiped my left cheek. Mireille swept back
in, rolling her eyes. "Oh, that John. He thinks he's
something."
"He's something, all right." I didn't know
her well enough to say what I really thought of him, but I hoped
that the food made up for him.
She towed me by the arm to the living room
on the right. A bunch of residents on the sofa yelled, "Hi, Hope!"
while Tucker leered at me from a bright red La-Z-Boy by the window.
No one else was wearing all black, and I relaxed slightly.
Pachelbel's Canon tinkled on the stereo. I started to reach for a
handful of chips from a robin-egg-blue bowl on the low, black
coffee table, but Mireille's hand tightened on my elbow. "You must
be thirsty. I'll get you a drink first, all right?"
I waved goodbye to the people and the chips,
and let her haul me to her cheerful yellow kitchen.
Mireille gestured at the array of bottles on
her granite counter. "What would you like? Some of your wine?"
I winced. My temples throbbed at the mere
mention of wine. "No, thanks. Just water."
She poured some water out of a Brita pitcher
on the counter and handed the tumbler to me. "I'll be back in a
second. Don't leave."
Hurry up and wait. I sipped the lukewarm
water, grimacing.
"Hi, Hope," came a quiet, male voice behind
me. It was lower than Tucker's voice, and it electrified the skin
on my arms.
Alex. I spun on my heel, ready to tear a
strip off his back and another off his testicles, but then I saw
his wan face and the dark circles under his eyes. Compared to the
charming guy who had treated me to sushi, he looked like the older
brother who'd gone to war and ripped his soul on the
battlefield.
He gripped a beer bottle in his left hand.
Uneven stubble lined his face. His eyes were red. He was wearing a
crumpled, '70s style striped shirt, and corduroys with ripped-out
knees. His bare feet looked vulnerable on Mireille's white ceramic
floor.
Pity choked me. I shook my head once, twice.
"What happened?" I finally managed.
"I'm sorry," he said, and added thickly,
stumbling on the words, "You wouldn't believe it."
"Try me," I said, but Tori drifted into the
kitchen, passing between us en route to the kitchen counter. "Are
you okay, Hope?"
I nodded. "I'm all right."
She poured herself some mineral water and
sipped it gravely, her dark eyes passing from me to Alex and back
again. I waited for her to leave, but she leaned her elbows against
the countertop like she planned to set up camp here. She was
delicately built, almost bird-like in her slimness. I'm thin too,
but in my mind at least, I'm always battling incipient obesity.
Mireille buzzed in again, like the Energizer
Bunny on speed. She stopped when she saw Alex and Tori, but quickly
recovered. "Hope. Have you had anything to eat? I made a pesto
sauce and a tomato sauce for the pasta, so you can choose. Are you
allergic to nuts?" She reached inside a yellow cupboard and forced
a plate on me. "Please, help yourself. Don't be shy. We have enough
for an army! Tori's garlic bread is excellent. Have some before the
men eat it all." She cocked her head, and I heard a faint ringing.
"Oh, the phone again. Alex, can you get that? I bet it's Anu. She
said she'd come later. Now the gang's all here." She barked a
laugh.
I looked at Alex. He shrugged and reached
for the phone.
He seemed a bit spineless, not like how I'd
first thought of him. Plus he still
At least he wasn't dressed in mourning,
except for his black pants. And he held a beer in his right hand. I
gave him a half-smile.
He returned it with a sly grin. Then he
swooped down so close that his stubble brushed my cheek.
I tipped back on my heels.
Undeterred, he pressed a hearty, wet,
smacking kiss on my left cheek. I ducked away from contact on my
right.
He laughed and backed off, saluting me with
his beer. "You're from Ontario, right?"
"Yeah." I glowered at him.
"You'll get used to it." Still laughing, he
shook his head and strode into the next room.
I wiped my left cheek. Mireille swept back
in, rolling her eyes. "Oh, that John. He thinks he's
something."
"He's something, all right." I didn't know
her well enough to say what I really thought of him, but I hoped
that the food made up for him.
She towed me by the arm to the living room
on the right. A bunch of residents on the sofa yelled, "Hi, Hope!"
while Tucker leered at me from a bright red La-Z-Boy by the window.
No one else was wearing all black, and I relaxed slightly.
Pachelbel's Canon tinkled on the stereo. I started to reach for a
handful of chips from a robin-egg-blue bowl on the low, black
coffee table, but Mireille's hand tightened on my elbow. "You must
be thirsty. I'll get you a drink first, all right?"
I waved goodbye to the people and the chips,
and let her haul me to her cheerful yellow kitchen.
Mireille gestured at the array of bottles on
her granite counter. "What would you like? Some of your wine?"
I winced. My temples throbbed at the mere
mention of wine. "No, thanks. Just water."
She poured some water out of a Brita pitcher
on the counter and handed the tumbler to me. "I'll be back in a
second. Don't leave."
Hurry up and wait. I sipped the lukewarm
water, grimacing.
"Hi, Hope," came a quiet, male voice behind
me. It was lower than Tucker's voice, and it electrified the skin
on my arms.
Alex. I spun on my heel, ready to tear a
strip off his back and another off his testicles, but then I saw
his wan face and the dark circles under his eyes. Compared to the
charming guy who had treated me to sushi, he looked like the older
brother who'd gone to war and ripped his soul on the
battlefield.
He gripped a beer bottle in his left hand.
Uneven stubble lined his face. His eyes were red. He was wearing a
crumpled, '70s style striped shirt, and corduroys with ripped-out
knees. His bare feet looked vulnerable on Mireille's white ceramic
floor.
Pity choked me. I shook my head once, twice.
"What happened?" I finally managed.
"I'm sorry," he said, and added thickly,
stumbling on the words, "You wouldn't believe it."
"Try me," I said, but Tori drifted into the
kitchen, passing between us en route to the kitchen counter. "Are
you okay, Hope?"
I nodded. "I'm all right."
She poured herself some mineral water and
sipped it gravely, her dark eyes passing from me to Alex and back
again. I waited for her to leave, but she leaned her elbows against
the countertop like she planned to set up camp here. She was
delicately built, almost bird-like in her slimness. I'm thin too,
but in my mind at least, I'm always battling incipient obesity.
Mireille buzzed in again, like the Energizer
Bunny on speed. She stopped when she saw Alex and Tori, but quickly
recovered. "Hope. Have you had anything to eat? I made a pesto
sauce and a tomato sauce for the pasta, so you can choose. Are you
allergic to nuts?" She reached inside a yellow cupboard and forced
a plate on me. "Please, help yourself. Don't be shy. We have enough
for an army! Tori's garlic bread is excellent. Have some before the
men eat it all." She cocked her head, and I heard a faint ringing.
"Oh, the phone again. Alex, can you get that? I bet it's Anu. She
said she'd come later. Now the gang's all here." She barked a
laugh.
I looked at Alex. He shrugged and reached
for the phone.
He seemed a bit spineless, not like how I'd
first thought of him. Plus he still
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