Jamieson Finn (Redemption Series Book 3) Page 2

  “I’m sure they will. Let’s find out.”

  Howard picked up my suitcases and stacked them in the backseat.

  “Just keep the top up until you unload them,” he spoke as he handed me my carry-on.

  Taking it from him, I put it in the front seat next to me and thanked him.

  “Thank you for your patience with me, Howard.” I smiled.

  “You were a pleasure to work with, Grace. Good luck here in Los Angeles.”

  “Thanks,” I spoke as I waved goodbye and pulled out of the lot.

  I pulled into the parking garage of my new apartment building, found my designated spot, and went to the leasing office.

  “Can I help you?” A tall redhead smiled.

  “Hi. I’m Grace Harper and I’m moving into apartment 3C.”

  “Ah yes. Welcome. I have your keys right here.” She dangled them in front of me.

  “Did my furniture arrive?” I asked.

  “Yes. The truck was here this morning. Everything is in your apartment.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled.

  “You’re welcome. If you need anything or have any questions or concerns, just give me a call.”

  I went back to my car, grabbed my suitcases and my carry-on, and took the elevator up to the third floor. Inserting the key into the lock, I pushed open the door and took in a long, deep breath as I stepped inside. Boxes were everywhere, and I couldn’t wait to start unpacking and put everything in its place. I needed to do this today because I started my new job tomorrow, and once that started, I’d have zero time. As I was unpacking all my kitchen gear, my phone rang, and it was my Aunt Cora calling.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Hello, it’s your favorite aunt, darling.”

  “You’re my only aunt.” I laughed.

  “Just checking in to make sure you made it to Los Angeles safely.”

  “I did. I’m just unpacking.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked with concern.

  “Yes. Of course I am.”

  “I’m not talking about him, Grace. I’m talking about being in Los Angeles.”

  “I know, Aunt Cora. It’s all good. It’s been twenty years.”

  “Okay. I expect to hear from you every other day,” she spoke. “If you need anything, I can be there in a flash at any time.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Cora. I’ll do my best to call you every other day, but you know, with my work schedule.”

  “I know, Grace. I love you.”

  “I love you too. Talk to you soon.”

  I ended the call, finished unpacking, and headed to Trader Joe’s around the corner to buy some food.

  ****

  My alarm went off, and after shutting it down, I sighed as I rolled over and hugged my pillow for a few moments before climbing out of bed and getting in the shower. Today was the first day of my new job, and I’d admit I was pretty nervous. Not about the job, but where it was. I took in a deep breath as I grabbed my coffee and my purse and headed out the door. As soon as the elevator door to the parking garage opened, I heard people screaming. I knew those screams, so I ran out of the parking garage and across the street where a group of people were gathered around a young woman lying on the cement.

  “I’m a doctor. What happened?” I shouted as I knelt down.

  “She was shot,” a bystander spoke. “I called 911. They’re on their way.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked the victim as I lifted her shirt and examined her gunshot wound.

  “Carla,” she barely spoke.

  “You’re going to be okay. Stay with me, Carla. How old are you?”

  “Thirty-five.” She struggled to say the words.

  “Do you know who did this to you?”

  “My husband,” she whispered.

  “You, come here.” I pointed to the bystander who called 911. I need you to put pressure on the wound. Push down as hard as you can. We have to control the bleeding.”

  He knelt down beside me and did as I asked while I grabbed my stethoscope from my purse and listened to her heart and lungs. I heard the ambulance coming and took over applying pressure on her abdomen.

  “Please don’t let me die,” Carla cried.

  “You’re not going to die. Not today and not on my watch.” I smiled.

  “What do we have?” one of the paramedics asked.

  “Gunshot wound to the abdomen. Her pulse is weak, and she’s lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to the ER now.”

  The paramedics loaded Carla into the ambulance, hooked her up to an IV, and gave her oxygen while I continued to apply pressure to control the bleeding.

  Chapter Three

  Grace

  “Thirty-five-year-old female with a gunshot wound to the abdomen. I need an abdominal CT, blood count, creatine, electrolytes, calcium level, lactic acid, and blood gases. Call the OR and let them know we’ll be coming up.”

  “I’m sorry, but who are you?” a woman with short black hair in burgundy scrubs asked from the doorway.

  “I’m your new trauma attending. Any other questions you’d like to ask before this patient bleeds to death?” I cocked my head.

  “Umm. No. I’ll call the OR.”

  “No surgery.” Carla grabbed hold of my arm.

  “You don’t have a choice. I need to stop the bleed in your belly or you’ll die.”

  “My head,” she slurred and began to seize.

  “She’s seizing. Push ten milligrams of Diazepam. I need a portable head CT now, and page neuro, stat.”

  I got the head CT and looked at the computer image as soon as it loaded on the screen. “Where’s neuro?” I shouted.

  “What do we—” He stopped when he walked into the room and looked at me with a shocked expression on his face.

  I stood there for a second, unable to speak as our eyes locked onto each other’s. There was no time for a reaction to the man that was staring back at me.

  “Gunshot wound to the abdomen and an intercranial bleed.” I pointed to the CT scan.

  “Let’s get her up to the OR. I’ll let you know how she does,” he spoke.

  “Excuse me? I need to remove the bullet from her abdomen, stop the bleeding, and repair any residual damage. She’s already lost a lot of blood.”

  “You’re a surgeon?” he asked with a shocked tone.

  “Trauma surgeon. You’re neuro?” I raised my brow at him.

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “Let’s go. You take the abdomen and I’ll take the head.”

  The patient was the number one priority and I didn’t have time to process the fact that Jamieson, the man I slept with my last night in New York City, was a neurosurgeon at the hospital I was now working at and going to be operating with. Oh my God, this wasn’t happening.

  As we were scrubbing in, he wouldn’t stop staring at me.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asked.

  “What’s there to say? I think I’m just as shocked as you are.”

  “You bet I am. You failed to mention that you were moving to L.A. and that you were a doctor that night,” he spoke.

  “Me? I asked you what you did and you said it wasn’t important, remember?” I arched my brow. “Plus, why would I tell you I was moving to L.A.? We barely talked, if you remember.”

  “We can discuss this later after we save this woman’s life,” he spoke.

  I went into the operating room and he followed behind, cracking open Carla’s skull while I made an incision into her abdomen.

  “I need to repair the small bowel and there’s a tear in her liver. I need an x-ray over here to try and locate the bullet.”

  “Are you sure there’s no exit wound?” Jamieson asked as he operated on her brain.

  “I’m one hundred percent sure,” I spoke as I narrowed my eye at him.

  “First day?” he asked.

  “Yes, and first patient. I was in the parking garage of my apartment building when I heard screaming from across the street.”

 
; “And where is your apartment?”

  “West Hollywood.”

  “That explains it,” he spoke.

  I sighed as I finished repairing the small bowel and moved on to the liver.

  “Vessels repaired, and the bleeding has stopped,” he spoke.

  I was working on repairing her liver, and as soon as Jamieson closed up Carla’s head, he stood next to me.

  “Nice work.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” he asked as he stared at the x-ray.

  “If you’re talking about the bullet against the renal artery, yes, I see it.”

  “That’s really risky to remove. You could do some serious damage to this poor woman.”

  “I know that. What would you do in my situation?” I asked as I glanced over at him.

  He stared at me for a moment.

  “I’d remove it.”

  “Good. Glad to hear we’re on the same page.” I smirked.

  “Do you need some help?” he asked.

  “No. I’ve got this. Don’t you think I do?” I asked.

  “I didn’t say that. Looks to me like you’re very good at your job. I was just offering my assistance.”

  “I appreciate it, Dr.—” I glanced over at him.

  “Finn,” he replied.

  “Like I said, Dr. Finn, I appreciate it, but I’ve got this.”

  “Okay. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to stand here and watch.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  I carefully, and with extremely steady hands, snared out the bullet, being extra careful not to tear the renal artery. I dropped the bullet into the steel bowl and let out a deep breath.

  “Bullet is out. She’s going to be okay,” I spoke as I began to close her up. “Thank you everyone for helping and assisting me and Dr. Finn today. You all did a great job.”

  Jamieson and I walked out of the operating room and scrubbed out.

  “I never did get your last name, Doctor,” he spoke.

  “It’s Harper. Dr. Grace Harper.” I smiled as I walked away.

  I took in a deep breath as I stepped into the elevator and took it up to the fifth floor. Placing my hand on my belly, I tried to calm the fluttering inside. Shit. This was not good. Not good at all. As soon as the elevator doors opened, I walked down the hallway and stepped inside the office of Renata Sinclair, Chief of Staff and Medical Director.

  “Dr. Harper, how’s your patient?” she asked. “I walked down to the ER and Jackie told me you were already in the operating room.”

  “She’s going to be fine. It’s good to see you again, Renata.” I smiled as we hugged.

  “Welcome to Cedars-Sinai, Grace. What a way to start your first day. I heard you operated with our Chief Neurosurgeon, Dr. Finn.”

  “I did.”

  “And?” she smirked.

  “And what?”

  “No swooning, tripping over your feet when he’s around, heart palpitations, mild sweating?”

  “He seems nice.” I grinned.

  “He’s arrogant, cocky, and a womanizer, but he’s the best neurosurgeon in the country and a great asset to this hospital. Don’t let him get to you and don’t take anything personally. As long as you remember those two things, you’ll do just fine.”

  “I can handle men like Dr. Finn.” I smirked.

  “I know you can, and I was beyond thrilled when I got your call. I never thought you’d leave New York.”

  “It was time for a change.”

  “I thought you were happy at the hospital?”

  “I was. It’s more of a personal change,” I spoke.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here.” She smiled. “You are another great asset to this hospital, my dear.”

  Chapter Four

  Jamieson

  I inhaled a sharp breath as I watched her walk away. This was unbelievable. I never thought in a million years I’d ever see her again, let alone work with her. Damn it. She was the new trauma attending, and now I’d see her practically every day. The one thing I couldn’t stop thinking about was how she told me she was starting a new life the night I met her. Little did I know her new life included living in Los Angeles and working at my hospital. This posed a problem for me.

  I went up to Renata’s office and lightly knocked on the door before entering.

  “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t know you were with someone,” I spoke as I stared at Grace.

  “Dr. Finn.” Renata smiled. “You’ve met Dr. Grace Harper?”

  “Yes. We just saved a woman’s life together.”

  “I heard. Good job. Come in and sit down. I’m just finishing up with Dr. Harper.”

  I swallowed hard as I took a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk. Grace walked out of the office and Renata took a seat behind her desk and folded her hands.

  “I saw the way you looked at her, Jamieson. Leave her alone. Understand?”

  “What?” I held my arms out. “I haven’t done anything.”

  “Not yet you haven’t. It’s already going to be hard on her as it is being here.”

  “Why is that?” I narrowed my eye.

  “That’s none of your business.” She pointed at me. “Now, the reason I needed to speak with you is because Mary called this morning and said she quit. She couldn’t even bother giving two weeks’ notice. Do you know anything about that?” Her brow arched.

  I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat. “No. I have no idea.”

  “I’m sure you don’t,” she spoke in a sarcastic tone.

  “Are we done here, Renata? I have a consult with a patient I’m late for.”

  “We’re done, Dr. Finn.” She pursed her lips. “Remember what I said about Dr. Harper. And another thing, if I lose any more staff, best neurosurgeon or not, I’m coming after you.”

  I put my hand up. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be on my best behavior.” I smirked.

  “I won’t worry because I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”

  I sighed as I rolled my eyes and walked out of her office. Why the hell would it be hard for Grace to be here? Why would she come to Los Angeles in the first place if that was the case? I got the impression Renata knew her. Grace Harper was a mysterious woman the night I met her, and now she became even more mysterious. As much as I didn’t want to care or get involved, I was curious, and I was going to find out what her story was.

  “Hello, Mr. Bind. I’m Dr. Finn.” I extended my hand.

  “Nice to meet you Dr. Finn. This is my wife, Athena.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I smiled as I lightly shook her hand and then took a seat behind my desk and opened his file.

  “It says here you’ve been having some trouble walking and you’ve been experiencing back pain.”

  “Yes. I’ve been to two doctors already and they can’t seem to find out what the problem is other than a strained muscle in my back. But nothing is helping, and the pain is getting worse.”

  “Any other symptoms you’ve been experiencing?” I asked.

  “Tell him, Jeff,” his wife spoke.

  “Athena.” His brows furrowed at her.

  I arched by brow at him. “What’s been going on?”

  “I’ve been losing control of my bladder lately,” he spoke with embarrassment.

  “Okay. Anything else I need to know?”

  “He’s been complaining that his right leg keeps going numb and the other day he fell twice,” his wife Athena spoke.

  “I see. Well, I can promise you that I will get to the bottom of all these symptoms you’re having. I’m going to schedule you for an MRI, and I want it done today. If you’ll wait here a moment, I’ll go speak with the scheduling nurse and see when we can fit you in.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Finn,” Jeff Bind spoke.

  “You’re welcome.” I smiled as I got up from my desk, walked out of my office, and down the hall to see Yvonne.

  “Dr. Finn, let me guess. You need an MRI scheduled for today,” she spok
e with a raised brow as I walked into her office.

  “How do you always know that, Yvonne?” I smirked.

  “Because it’s the only time you ever walk down here.”

  “I have a patient who needs one stat. What’s open?”

  “We’re completely booked, Dr. Finn.”

  “Yvonne.” I smiled. “Work with me.”

  “Three o’clock.” She pursed her lips as she looked at me.

  I glanced at my watch and saw it was one.

  “Perfect. The name is Jeffery Bind. I’ll go tell him. Thanks, Yvonne.” I winked. I walked into my office and took a seat behind my desk. “Your MRI is scheduled for three o’clock, so I would suggest going to the cafeteria and grabbing some lunch and we’ll see you back here at two thirty. Are you claustrophobic at all?” I asked.

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Good. I’ll see you in the MRI room.” I smiled as I stood up and shook his hand. “Excuse me, I’m needed down in the ER,” I spoke as I looked at my pager.

  “Someone paged me?” I asked Jackie, the ER charge nurse.

  “Dr. Harper did. She’s in room five.”

  “You paged me?” I asked as I walked into the room and saw a child approximately two years old lying in the bed.

  “Yes. I need to speak with you for a moment.” She gestured toward the hall.

  “What’s going on that you needed me down here?” I asked.

  “Two-year-old male named Charlie. His parents brought him for flu symptoms. They took him to their family doctor last week and he’s not getting any better. He sleeps all day, vomiting on and off, and he’s been complaining his head hurts.”

  “Sounds like the flu to me,” I spoke.

  “That’s what I thought too until I was talking to him and noticed his asymmetric eye movements and his parents said that when he goes to get up, he falls every time.”

  “You think it’s a brain tumor?” I asked.

  “AT/RT,” she spoke.

  “Come on, Grace. I would say that’s jumping the gun.”

  “I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. I’ve seen it before.”

  I narrowed my eye at her for a moment and then slowly shook my head.

  “Fine. I’ll schedule an MRI. Sedate him first and then bring him upstairs,” I spoke. “And I pray to God you’re wrong.”