Free Fang Hospital (Dr. Gabriella Van Court, Book 1) by Tanya Goodwin Page A

waved to the man as the cardiology team rolled him away.
    The E.R. was finally quiet. He prayed it would stay that way. Max leaned against the counter. “I’ll be in the call room getting some R&R.”
    The nurses smiled. “So, where is Dr. Van Court?”
    Max smiled back and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
    “Uh-huh,” they teased.
    “Uh-huh,” he parried back. “We’ll both be around. Call us if you need us.” Max crossed his index fingers and held them up as a cross, as if to ward off evil spirits. “I emphasize ‘need’.”
    “We’ll make it a point not to disturb you...two,” a nurse said. “Unless it’s an emergency .”
    “Cute!” He gave them a finger pop. “We, uh, I will only be a call away.”
    The nurse wiggled her fingers. “Goodnight, Dr. Cade. Of course you’ll miss all the Halloween fun.”
    He nodded and grinned. “No, I won’t.”
    He’d treat himself to Gabriella. He’d leave the tricks up to her.
    Max headed down the corridor that led to the doctor’s on call room with renewed stride. He’d get himself and the room ready before Gabriella arrived. He entered the call room and fluffed the two pillows as much as one can fluff hospital brand vinyl and pulled down the white starched sheet, with the Fang Memorial Hospital logo stamped across it, over the cotton blanket, making a neat triangle. It wasn’t a five-star hotel, or maybe even a one-star, but it beat the picnic table. The muted ambiance didn’t matter. What did matter was that they were finally going to be together, alone. With the bed prepared as comfy as possible, he’d make sure he was groomed as well.
    Max ducked into the adjoining bathroom and looked into the mirror. He raked his hand through his tussled hair, sniffed his armpits, and massaged his stubbly chin. No, that wouldn’t do. He’d hurry to his locker and get his toiletries. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t care about his rumpled state. But Gabriella was worth it.
    He sprinted up the back stairwell leading to the men’s locker room and grabbed the exit door handle. An icy wind wafted down the back of his scrubs. He shivered. It wasn’t that cold when he and Gabriella had come on shift. He let go of the handle, but the mysterious gust had ceased. The bottom stairwell door slammed shut. Figuring he hadn’t shut that door tight enough, he convinced himself the opening must have created a back draft. Max grasped the handle again and opened the door. He whistled all the way to the locker room. The notes of his happy tune echoed off the walls. He stopped whistling and glanced back. Except for an abandoned wheelchair, the hallway was empty. He hadn’t noticed that the corridor had an echo, but then again, he hadn’t whistled en route to the locker room before. He hurried inside the men’s locker room and snatched his black bag containing the necessities of hospital life from his locker. His mission accomplished, he sped back to the call room. No frigid draft. No echo.
    Max turned the corner and froze in front of the call room. He dropped his bag.
    “Shit! Who the hell did this?”
    The pillows were strewn on the floor, and the sheets and blanket he had left in an orderly fashion were crumpled in a wad. He gritted his teeth and whipped his head toward the hallway, searching for the culprit.
    “Not cool,” he called out.
    No one answered.
    He kicked his bag into the call room. He’d have to straighten up this mess before Gabriella arrived. Max picked up the pillows and tossed them onto the bed. He’d have to get clean linen. Footsteps approached. Max stared at the open doorway. George Toth, the on call OB, skidded to a stop and peeked into the room.
    “Whoa, Max. You certainly did a rock star job here!”
    “I didn’t do this.” He arched his brows. “I’m expecting company.”
    “My sympathies. I hope she’s into Picasso.”
    Max quirked his lips. “Did you see anyone or hear anything?”
    “Nope. I was asleep down the hall. But hey, it’s Halloween. I