High Risk

Family medicine clinic started at 0830 every morning, and the three medical students decided that having a morning coffee together was a good idea.

Nora had been quite busy last night. “I printed out three Up-To-Date articles about supraventricular arrhythmias in pregnancy. Here are articles on different safe medications and limitations of AV node inhibitors in WPW.”

She stacked piles of paperwork into Michael’s arms as they made their way to the front of the coffee cart line. There were a few doctors in scrubs ahead of them.

“That is a lot of research on a patient that isn’t even ours anymore.” Michael glanced down at the pile and miscalculated the movement of the line. Two female physicians turned around with their coffee, and Michael collided with one of them.

The doctor bounced off him, spilling coffee everywhere. He saw he had narrowly missed his pulmonary attending, Dr. Varma, but had knocked down her companion.

“I am so sorry, ma’am,” Michael apologized for the deluge of coffee and medical articles all over the fallen doctor.

Then he looked down at his victim.

Not possible.

Angela.

In green scrubs and a long white coat.

She stared at him. He stared at her, unable to comprehend the words emblazoned on her stained white coat. ‘Dr. Angela Perkins, Interventional Cardiology.’

That was not a kindergarten teacher. That was a highly trained medical professional.

Neither of them moved, stunned into frozen silence. Nora took action. “We’re sorry, Doctor. Old man Harper here. Raj, napkins.” He scrambled to follow her order.

“I’m fine,” Dr. Angela Perkins sounded dazed. Michael tried to give her a hand up, and she recoiled with the same disdain one would give a tarantula.

“I’m sorry,” Michael mumbled, unsure of what to do or say upon discovering the identity of his recent date.

“Angela, are you okay?” Dr. Varma asked Dr. Perkins.

“I’m fine.” Dr. Perkins stood up and read his badge in an unfamiliar tone. “Thank you, Medical-Student Harper, for your offer of assistance. Mistakes happen.” She blanked her shock from her features and addressed the rest of his team, taking their proffered napkins. “Thank you, Patel and Borenstein.”

“At least let us buy you new coffee,” Raj offered quickly.

“It was quite the jolt as it was. I’ll go get new scrubs. I’m post-call so I’ll be off tonight.” Dr. Perkins looked anywhere but at Michael.

“We’re outpatient family med. We don’t get off until six or seven,” Michael answered. That was obviously a message for him.

“She wasn’t talking to you,” Nora said. “We’re sorry, ma’am. We’ll get out of your way and very sorry about your clothes.” She signaled Raj who grabbed the papers off the floor and helped propel Michael down the hallway.

Michael had no choice but to go.



Angela somehow made her excuses to Kayla and escaped to cardiology clinic. She wanted to believe she was having a post-call sleep deprivation related hallucination.

Or a concussion. Or an aneurysm. Or a dissociative fugue.

Otherwise, she would have to accept that her noncommittal accountant date was wandering the hospital dressed as a medical student.
Michael had to be a common name.

She staggered back to her desk in a daze. She flung open the bottom drawer and frantically searched for that pile of papers relating to the medical students that she had so thoughtlessly buried. Flipping through the pictures, she didn’t see him. His face was nowhere to be found.

She must have hallucinated him post call.
Then she went by last name. Michael Harper.

Oh no.

His picture had been way overexposed and practically invisible. Only the barest shape of his face remained, practically featureless, but he had been there all along.

As had she.

Angela buried her face in her hands. What the hell was she going to do?

She was totally screwed. By the simple act of dating a medical student, even unknowingly, she could have torpedoed her career. The cardiology department treated her badly as it was.

There was no mutually assured destruction in this; she would be the one who paid the most. She had made herself indispensable to the ER, Pulmonary, and the ICU. She logged in more hours and did more procedures than Pegg, but it wouldn’t matter. MetroGen had no qualms about expelling her from the program while giving Michael, at best, a slap on the wrist.
There was only one thing to do. She and Michael had to agree to erase this from existence.

Otherwise she could lose everything—her fellowship, her future.

Like it or not, she did have to see him one more time. She had to make sure they were both on the same page on this.

Clasping her hands under her chin, she took a calming breath. She’d been so busy trying to prove to herself that she was the opposite of the girl whose fiancé dropped her over medicine, she’d never considered Michael was anything but a cute guy with whom to pass some sexy time. That seemed quite the oversimplification if he had left some type of job to become a medical student this late in life. There had to be some internal drive pushing him along.

Hopefully, it would be enough to convince him to bury their dates in the past.