The Doctor's Secret Read online

  They had come to the end of the walkway leading into the waiting area. Hong-Wei turned and made a polite bow to his companion. “Thank you, Ms. Albertson, for your advice and for your company. I’ll do my best to remember what you’ve said.”

  She took his hand and held it tight in her grip, smiling. “Best of luck to you, young man.”

  Hong-Wei watched her go to her family, watched them fold her into their embraces with no small bit of longing in his heart. Turning to the rest of the crowd, he looked for the welcoming party from Copper Point, ready to see what happened next on his adventure.

  No one appeared to be waiting for him.

  Hong-Wei paused, confused and concerned. There should be a large group, composed chiefly of the hospital board, poised with smiles and coming forward to greet him. They’d mentioned how eager they were to see him and assured him they’d have a delegation sent to collect him in Duluth. It wouldn’t be difficult for them to identify Hong-Wei—they’d seen his photo, and there were at best four Asians in the entire airport. The waiting area was small as well. The entire airport was small. What was going on?

  All his apprehension came rushing back, swamping the peace Grace Albertson had given him.

  This is going to be a failure before I even begin.

  Then he saw it—just as he’d asked for, there was a sign. A literal sign, small and white, and it had his name on it, sort of. It read DOCTOR WU in block letters, but underneath it was the Mandarin word for doctor in hànzi followed by Wu, also written in Chinese character. Except it wasn’t quite the right word for doctor, and the character for Wu wasn’t the one Hong-Wei’s family used. The order was also incorrect, with the character for doctor written before Wu—in Mandarin, the proper address would be Wu Dr. instead of Dr. Wu.

  Still, Hong-Wei had asked for a sign, and here it was.

  The man who held the sign appeared to be alone. He was young, about Hong-Wei’s age, perhaps a bit younger. He looked nervous and haggard. He was also, Hong-Wei couldn’t help noticing, attractive. Cute was definitely a word that described this individual. Light brown hair, bright hazel eyes, a thin strip of beard on his chin, the suggestion of muscles beneath a tight shirt….

  The man’s eyes met Hong-Wei’s, and something crackled in the air.

  Hong-Wei threw up walls as quickly as he could. No. Good grief, no. He’d said he would consider opening up, but he wasn’t interested in romance, or even simple sex, and absolutely not with someone associated with the hospital.

  But those eyes. And he’d made a sign. An incorrect, awkward sign. Hong-Wei could tell by the way the man smiled at Hong-Wei—uncertainly, hopefully—that the Chinese had been his idea.

  Gripping the strap of his bag tightly, Hong-Wei stepped forward and did his best to meet his disaster head-on.

  NO ONE had told Simon the new doctor was beautiful.

  He hadn’t wanted to drive the hour and a half from Copper Point to Duluth and back again to pick up the new surgeon, especially when he’d been asked at the last minute during an extended shift. He’d worked odd hours seven days in a row, and then they’d wanted him to fetch the doctor everyone had been raving about as if he were some kind of second coming for St. Ann’s? It wasn’t as if Simon could refuse, though. Erin Andreas, the new human resources director and son of the hospital board president, had asked him personally.

  “It’s fitting for the surgical nurse to pick up the new surgeon, don’t you think?” Andreas had punctuated this remark with a thin, apologetic smile. “I’d originally planned to go myself with a team of physicians, but everyone was summoned for call, and I have an internal crisis I need to deal with. So, if you would do this for us, please.”

  He hadn’t waited for Simon to agree, only given him directions on when and how to meet Dr. Wu. He’d also sent along another copy of what Owen called That Damned Memo, the one reminding everyone of the strict new penalties for dating between staff members. Simon had no idea if Andreas meant it for him or for the new doctor.

  As he clutched his hastily cobbled welcome sign, his pulse quickening with each step the surgeon took closer, Simon decided he’d definitely been the memo’s intended target. Dr. Wu could have starred in an Asian drama, he was so beautiful. In fact, he looked a lot like Aaron Yan, one of Simon’s top five favorite DramaFever stars. He was also tall. Simon wasn’t particularly short, but he was compared to Dr. Wu.

  Tall. Handsome. Chiseled. Short black hair, not dyed, artfully styled into messy peaks. Dark eyes that scanned the airport terminal with sharp focus, then zeroed in on Simon. A long, defined jaw lightly dotted with travel stubble below the most articulate set of cheekbones Simon had ever seen.

  I’m going to work beside this man every single day. Hand him instruments. Follow his every instruction. Except if he smells even a fraction as good as he looks, I’m going to pass out in the OR before the patient arrives.

  Mentally slapping sense into himself, Simon straightened and smiled, holding his sign higher as the man approached. “Dr. Wu? Hello, and welcome. I’m Simon Lane, the surgical nurse at St. Ann’s Medical Center. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Dr. Wu accepted Simon’s hand, but he also looked around, searching for something. When Simon realized what it probably was, he lowered his gaze, his cheeks heating.

  “I… apologize that it’s only me here to greet you. We’re a small hospital, as you know, and the team members who planned to greet you were all called away on emergencies. I hope you’re not offended.”

  Wu cleared his throat, not meeting Simon’s gaze. “Of course not.”

  Simon was sure Wu was at least a little offended, which made Simon feel bad, but it wasn’t as if the man didn’t have a right to be upset. It was also pretty much on par for the administration to shove a nurse into the middle of its mess to take the heat for a mistake he had nothing to do with.

  This wasn’t the time to feel sorry for himself or sigh over the man. Dr. Wu had traveled a long way and deserved some professionalism. Forcing a smile, Simon gestured to the hallway. “Shall we collect your luggage?”

  Wu adjusted his shoulder bag and nodded, setting his jaw. “Please.”

  They walked in silence to the baggage claim area, where the rest of the flight from Minneapolis was already gathered, for the most part. An elderly woman in yellow, surrounded by children and adults, waved at Dr. Wu as he passed, and he waved back. Simon almost asked if it was someone the surgeon knew, decided that was a stupid question, and kept his focus on the matter at hand. Professional. Be professional.

  “It says your bags will appear at the second claim.”

  Dr. Wu glanced from side to side, then raised his eyebrows in a look of quiet disdain. “Well, if not, there are only the two.”

  Simon followed his glance. “I guess there are. I never thought about it. I haven’t been to any other airport baggage areas. I haven’t so much as been on a plane, myself.” Realizing he should probably not have said that, he rubbed his cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give away that they’d sent the B-team to escort you. I may not know anything about the rest of the world, but I’m an expert on Copper Point.”

  For crying out loud, Lane, the man is going to think they sent the village idiot to fetch him. Except even as he thought this, Simon noticed Dr. Wu was smiling a real smile.

  It was gorgeous. If the man sent too many of those Simon’s way, he was going to need a cardiologist, not a surgeon.

  The baggage carousel hadn’t started to move yet, so Simon filled the gap with conversation he thought might interest Dr. Wu. “The administrators told me to take you out to eat before we headed to Copper Point, but if you’re too tired, we can skip that. I think someone stocked your condo with some starter groceries, but we could also stop somewhere on the way to get anything you might need.” He paused, biting his lip and glancing sideways at Dr. Wu. “I should warn you. Our grocery options are seriously limited in Copper Point. I mean, we have food, obviously, but because the population is small and homog
enous, anyone who wants to cook beyond the church cookbook greatest hits has to drive to Duluth or order online. A good friend of mine is a bit of a gourmand, and he’s always complaining about it. So if you want, we can stop at a store too. But it can also wait.”

  Crap, now he was babbling. The carousel wasn’t moving, though, and the surgeon wasn’t talking. A stolen glance revealed he was still smiling, however. Wider now, in fact.

  Simon swallowed a whimper and clenched his hands at his sides. When he spoke next, his voice cracked. “It’s nice to have someone new come to town, and we do need a surgeon at the hospital. An official surgeon on staff, I mean.” He could tell his cheeks were blotchy, the stain of his blush leaching onto his neck. “Sorry. I talk too much when I’m nervous.”

  Wu’s voice was like warm velvet falling over him. “I’m sorry I make you nervous.”

  He did make Simon nervous, but Simon didn’t want his new superior to know that, and he especially didn’t want him to know why. “I… you… you don’t make me nervous. I mean… I feel bad that you had to be met by me, is all. You deserve a better reception. I’m sure the hospital will make up for it once we arrive in town.”

  “Your reception is more than adequate. Thank you for coming.”

  Dr. Wu sounded almost gentle, and Simon couldn’t breathe. Also, he was pretty sure his entire face and neck were as red as a strawberry.

  The baggage carousel began to move, collecting suitcases spit from the chute, and Dr. Wu stepped away from Simon to retrieve his bags. “Where was it you thought of stopping for dinner?”

  Simon fumbled for his phone and called up the list of food options Andreas had given him. “There’s an Italian restaurant with good reviews. Oh, but it’s in the other direction.” Most of the places were, though. He resigned himself to returning home after midnight. Trying not to let his frustration show, he rattled off the other choices on the list. “There’s a place called Restaurant 301. ‘American classics with a local bent.’ I’m not sure what that means, but I could look at the menu. There’s another Italian restaurant. Wow. There are, like, five.” He scrolled some more. “Tavern on the Hill has Greek wood-fired pizza.” He frowned. “What makes pizza Greek? Is that really a thing, or do you think this is a gimmick to punk tourists?”

  Dr. Wu had ducked his head, and when he lifted it, he looked as if he were trying not to laugh. Before Simon could apologize for whatever foolish thing he’d said, the surgeon spoke. “I’d prefer a burger and a beer somewhere low-key, to be honest.”

  Simon was sure low-key was nowhere on Andreas’s carefully curated list. He opened Yelp, typed in burger, and scanned the results. The first hit immediately jogged his memory, and he knew where he wanted to take Dr. Wu. “What about Clyde Iron Works? It’s a lot more casual, but the food is good, and they have an extensive list of microbrews. I won’t drink, obviously, since I’m driving.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Once Wu had collected his suitcases from the belt, Simon claimed the handle of the larger one. “Let me take this. You have your carry-on and the other.”

  Dr. Wu hesitated, then inclined his head. “Thank you.”

  As Simon had feared, the surgeon’s suitcases completely filled his trunk and much of the back seat. “Sorry we’re so cramped.” Simon’s cheeks were hot with shame as he paid the ticket and drove them away from the airport. “I was going to borrow my friend’s car, which is bigger, but it ended up in the shop.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  At this point Simon couldn’t tell if Wu was simply being nice, or if he didn’t mind. Uncertainty made him babble again. “You’ll meet Owen soon enough. He’s one of my best friends from middle school and the anesthesiologist at St. Ann’s. He was on the original team that was coming to meet you. Kathryn, another friend of mine and our resident OB-GYN, was going to come too, but too many of her patients had babies.”

  Wu gazed through the window, taking in the scenery as they passed. “You mentioned you knew Copper Point well. Have you lived there long?”

  Simon laughed. “My whole life, and possibly my previous one. I’m one of those people who can trace a great-great-grandparent to the town. When I was four, the town had its one hundred fiftieth anniversary, and they put me on a float in some kind of settler getup with the other kids who were descendants of the founding families.” Come to think of it, that meant he’d stood next to Erin Andreas, who would have been just a few years older.

  “Tell me about the town. I saw a little online, but of course it’s not the same thing as firsthand experience.”

  “Well, it’s on the bay feeding into Lake Superior, and it’s one of the first settlement areas in what was the Northwest Territories. Lots of fur trading here before that. The European settlers came for the mining, I think.” Simon bit his lip. “Okay, so I don’t know the history of Copper Point so well. But I can tell you that we have a sandstone mine—I think it was copper the first time, but it’s sandstone now—and a college. It’s called Bayview University, but it’s a small liberal arts college. We have a campus town, which has more places to eat than our downtown and some fun shops. Because we’re so far away from everything, our Main Street does okay, even with the big box stores. It’s a midsized town, but it’s small enough everyone knows everyone. Sometimes more than you want.

  “You’re moving here from Houston, right? I looked it up while I was waiting. Wow, it’s really big. Did you come there from somewhere else in Texas before you went to school? They didn’t tell me much about you. I know you were born in Taiwan and did your residency at Baylor, but that’s about it.” Simon’s hand brushed the sign between them, and he decided this was a good time to get his apology over with. “Sorry if the sign was over-the-top. I misunderstood and thought you were more recently from Taiwan than you are.”

  Dr. Wu glanced at the sign with an affectionate smile. “No, I liked the sign. Thank you. I moved to Houston from Taipei with my family when I was ten. It worked out that the university I wanted to attend was in the same city, and I was fortunate enough to be matched with Baylor for my residency.”

  “Wow. I would think you’d have more of an accent, if you moved here that late.”

  “My sister has one, sometimes, but the two of us worked hard to practice our American accents as well as our English. It was important to us both to blend in.” He shook his head, rueful. “We watched so many movies. She would find the scripts, and we’d read along with them.”

  Simon hadn’t meant to confess, but the road ahead of him was hypnotic, as was Dr. Wu’s low, smooth voice, and it tumbled out of him. “I wish I could do that to learn Korean or Chinese. I watch so many Asian shows on DramaFever, but I’ve only learned how to say I’m sorry and thank you and I love you, and I’m not entirely sure about the last one.”

  There was a moment’s awkward pause where Simon cringed inwardly and Dr. Wu said nothing.

  “You… watch Asian television?” Wu said at last.

  Simon nodded, refusing to be uncomfortable about his confession. “The romances. They’re my favorite. I stumbled on one on Netflix one day and loved it, and of course Netflix kept recommending more, and I was down the rabbit hole. I found out there was an entire network devoted to them, and it was all over. Now I watch the new ones as they’re released, but I’ve also gone back and watched a lot of older ones as well.” He resisted the urge to apologize for himself and forged on. “I think it’s better than most of the stuff on American television. It makes me wish I could travel.”

  “Is there some reason you can’t?”

  Simon shrugged. “I haven’t had the opportunity, I guess.” Deciding to be honest, he added, “Also, I’m a little scared. I used to want to go everywhere, but the older I get, the more impossible it seems. I still want to do it, but I don’t want to go by myself, and….” He forced a smile. “Anyway. You’re certainly not scared. I look forward to working with you, Dr. Wu.”

  Wu made no reply to this, only stared out the window, an
unreadable expression on his face. Simon was working up to apologize for whatever it was he’d said wrong when he noticed the surgeon had closed his hand over the edge of Simon’s cardboard sign, holding on to it like an anchor.

  Maybe he’d messed some things up, but he’d done the sign right. At least he had that going for him.

  THE RESTAURANT Hong-Wei’s escort took them to had a funky urban-industrial theme, and the menu was more than promising, full of burgers, pasta, and as Lane had said, a vast selection of local beer. Hong-Wei ordered two different types and a large bacon cheeseburger, as well as a side of onion rings.

  Lane, who had a smoked salmon salad, blinked as he watched Hong-Wei dig into the beer-battered rings. “So… you’re not a health-conscious doctor, then?”

  Hong-Wei shrugged as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and dusted crumbs from his fingers. “My mother and grandmother always nag me to eat properly, so whenever I escape their influence, I tend to go wild.” He pushed the basket of rings toward Lane. “Try one. They’re excellent.”

  Lane held up a hand and shook his head, eyeing Hong-Wei curiously. Hong-Wei retreated into his food and drink, reeling a bit from Lane’s declaration that Hong-Wei wasn’t scared. Now he felt as if the pressure was on, which was difficult since the closer he got to his new reality, the more terrified he became. Junk food and alcohol seemed the best refuge.

  He liked hearing Lane talk, so he searched for a prompt. “You told me about the town. What about the hospital? My schedule didn’t allow me to come to Wisconsin for a proper visit.”

  As Hong-Wei had hoped, Lane relaxed and launched eagerly into speaking about the hospital. “St. Ann’s is a small critical access hospital, which I suppose you already knew. I guess the thing I can tell you that’s most important since it sounds like you’ve always dealt with large hospitals is small hospitals have a different feel. I worked at a larger hospital after finishing my degree, and the atmosphere at a place like St. Ann’s is very different. Unlike large hospitals where there are multiple floors and departments separated from each other, we’re all in each other’s laps at St. Ann’s. There’s only one nurses’ station. One doctors’ lounge. One bank of elevators, though we do have a service elevator in the laundry area. Technically we have one hundred beds, but because of the way the critical access rules read, we only ever use seventy-five. Also, though everyone has their specific role, we fill in everywhere. I’m supposed to be the surgical nurse, but I do whatever shift needs doing. The doctors are in the same predicament.”