The Doctor's Secret E-Book

Heidi Cullinan

• Herausgeber: Dreamspinner Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 452

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Cullinan weaves themes of racism and Asian culture, family pressures, and the value of friends, home, and love into a deeply satisfying romance.  — Publishers Weekly, Starred Review Copper Point Medical: Book One The brilliant but brooding new doctor encounters Copper Point's sunny nurse-next-door... and nothing can stand in the way of this romance. Dr. Hong-Wei Wu has come to Copper Point, Wisconsin, after the pressures of a high-powered residency burned him out of his career before he started. Ashamed of letting his family down after all they've done for him, he plans to live a quiet life as a simple surgeon in this tiny northern town. His plans, however, don't include his outgoing, kind, and attractive surgical nurse, Simon Lane. Simon wasn't ready for the new surgeon to be a handsome charmer who keeps asking him for help getting settled and who woos him with amazing Taiwanese dishes. There's no question—Dr. Wu is flirting with him, and Simon is flirting back. The problem is, St. Ann's has a strict no-dating policy between staff, which means their romance is off the table… unless they bend the rules.  But a romance that keeps them—literally—in the closet can't lead to happy ever after. Simon doesn't want to stay a secret, and Hong-Wei doesn't want to keep himself removed from life, not anymore. To secure their happiness, they'll have to change the administration's mind. But what other secrets will they uncover along the way, about Copper Point… and about each other?

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Blurb

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

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About the Author

By Heidi Cullinan

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Copyright

The Doctor’s Secret

By Heidi Cullinan

Copper Point Medical: Book One

The brilliant but brooding new doctor encounters Copper Point’s sunny nurse-next-door… and nothing can stand in the way of this romance.

Dr. Hong-Wei Wu has come to Copper Point, Wisconsin, after the pressures of a high-powered residency burned him out of his career before he started. Ashamed of letting his family down after all they’ve done for him, he plans to live a quiet life as a simple surgeon in this tiny northern town. His plans, however, don’t include his outgoing, kind, and attractive surgical nurse, Simon Lane.

Simon wasn’t ready for the new surgeon to be a handsome charmer who keeps asking him for help getting settled and who woos him with amazing Taiwanese dishes. There’s no question—Dr. Wu is flirting with him, and Simon is flirting back. The problem is, St. Ann’s has a strict no-dating policy between staff, which means their romance is off the table… unless they bend the rules.

But a romance that keeps them—literally—in the closet can’t lead to happy ever after. Simon doesn’t want to stay a secret, and Hong-Wei doesn’t want to keep himself removed from life, not anymore. To secure their happiness, they’ll have to change the administration’s mind. But what other secrets will they uncover along the way, about Copper Point… and about each other?

For Kwanna Jackson

Acknowledgments

THANKS FIRST and foremost to Dan Cullinan, who put up with ten million medical questions and was the only reason I was able to say, “Yes, I can do a medical trilogy.”

Thank you to Tracy Cheuk and to the commenters on the Formosa forums, who kindly helped me make Hong-Wei more accurate and gave me insight into his life.

Thank you to Anna Cullinan and her mad mapmaking skills, which not only made Copper Point feel more real, but kept me from sending people in ten different directions.

Thank you to Elizabeth North for helping me dream up Copper Point and giving it a home at Dreamspinner Press.

Thank you to my patrons who kept me company as I drafted this work, who peeked at early drafts, and as always gave me the life and love I needed to keep going. Thank you especially to Rosie M, Pamela Bartual, Marie, and Sarah Plunkett.

Thank you to my readers, whether you have just found me or have been along for the ride for all ten years. Let’s make stories for thirty more.

Chapter One

DR. HONG-WEI Wu cracked as he boarded the plane to Duluth.

He’d distracted himself on the first leg of the flight from Houston with a few drinks and the medical journal he’d brought in his bag. He nibbled at the in-flight meal, raising his eyebrow at their “Asian noodles” beneath a microwaved chicken breast.

He realized how long it would be until he ate his sister’s or his grandmother’s cooking again, and his chest tightened, but he pushed his feelings aside and focused on the article about the effects of perioperative gabapentin use on postsurgical pain in patients undergoing head and neck surgery.

When he disembarked at Minneapolis to transfer to his final destination, the reality of what Hong-Wei was about to do bloomed before him, but he faced it with a whiskey neat in an airport bar. Unquestionably he’d require some adjustments, but he’d make it work. If he could succeed at Baylor, he could succeed at a tiny hospital in a remote town in northern Wisconsin.

Except you didn’t succeed. You panicked, you let your family down, and you ran away.

The last of the whiskey chased that nagging bit of truth out of his thoughts, and when he stood in line for priority boarding for his last flight, he was sure he had himself properly fortified once again.

Then he stepped onto the plane.

It had fewer than twenty rows, and either he was imagining things, or those were propellers on the wings. Was that legal? It had to be a mistake. This couldn’t be a commercial plane. Yet no, there was a flight attendant with the airline’s logo on his lapel, and the people behind Hong-Wei held tickets, acting as if this was all entirely normal.

He peered around an elderly couple to speak to the flight attendant. “Sir? Excuse me? Where is first class?”

The attendant gave Hong-Wei an apologetic look that meant nothing but bad news. “They downgraded the plane at the last minute due to low passenger load, so there isn’t technically a first-class section. You should have received a refund on your ticket. If you didn’t, contact customer service right away when we land.”

Hong-Wei hadn’t received a refund, as he hadn’t been the one to buy the ticket. The hospital had. He fought to keep his jaw from tightening. “So these are the seats?” They were the most uncomfortable-looking things he’d ever seen, and he could tell already his knees were going to be squeezed against the back of the person ahead of him. “Can I at least upgrade to an exit row?”

The attendant gave him an even more apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, those seats are sold out. But I can offer you complimentary drinks and an extra bag of peanuts.”

An extra bag of peanuts.

As Hong-Wei stared at his narrow seat on the plane that would take him to the waiting arms of his escorts from St. Ann’s Medical Center, the walls of doubt and insecurity he’d held back crushed down upon him.

You shouldn’t have left Houston. What were you thinking? It’s bad enough you ran, throwing away everything your family sacrificed for. Why did you take this job? Why not any of the other prestigious institutions that offered for you? Why didn’t you at least remain close to home?

You’re a failure. You’re a disgrace to your family. How will you ever face them again?

“Excuse me, but do you mind if I slip past?”

Hong-Wei looked down. A tiny elderly white woman smiled up at him, her crinkled blue eyes clouded by cataracts. She wore a bright yellow pantsuit, clutching a handbag of the same color.

Breaking free of his terror-stricken reverie, Hong-Wei stepped aside. “Pardon me. I was startled, was all. I wasn’t expecting such a small plane.”

The woman waved a hand airily as she shuffled into her seat. “Oh, they always stuff us into one of these puddle jumpers on the way to Duluth. This is big compared to the last one I was on.”

They made commercial planes smaller than this? Hong-Wei suppressed a shudder.

With an exhale of release, the woman eased into the window seat in her row.

More people were piling into the plane now, and Hong-Wei had become an obstacle by standing in the aisle. Consigning himself to his fate, he stowed his carry-on and settled into the seat, wincing as he arranged his knees. When he finished, his seatmate was smiling expectantly at him, holding out her hand.

“Grace Albertson. Pleasure to meet you.”

The last thing he wanted was conversation, but he didn’t want to be rude, especially to someone her age. Forcing himself not to grimace, he accepted her hand. “Jack Wu. A pleasure to meet you as well.”

Ms. Albertson’s handshake was strong despite some obvious arthritis. “So where are you from, Jack?”

Hong-Wei matched Ms. Albertson’s smile. “Houston. And yourself?”

“Oh, I grew up outside of St. Peter, but now I live in Eden Prairie. I fly up to Duluth regular, though, to see my great-granddaughter.” She threaded her fingers over her midsection. “Houston, you say. So you were born here? In the United States, I mean.”

“I was born in Taiwan. My family moved here when I was ten.”

“Is that so? That would make you… well, do they call you first- or second-generation? Bah, I don’t know about that stuff.” She laughed and dusted wrinkled hands in the air. “My grandmother came here when she was eighteen, a new bride. Didn’t speak a word of English. She learned, but if she got cross with you, she started speaking Norwegian. We always wondered if she was swearing at us.” Ms. Albertson lifted her eyebrows at Hong-Wei. “You speak English quite nicely. But then I suppose you learned it growing up?”

“I studied in elementary school and with private tutors, but I struggled a bit when I first arrived.”

What an understatement that was. It was good Hong-Su wasn’t here. Even Ms. Albertson’s status as an elder wouldn’t have protected her from his sister’s lecture on why it wasn’t okay to ask Asian Americans where they were from. Though simply thinking of Hong-Su reminded him he wouldn’t be going home to her tonight to complain about another white person asking him where he was from.

Have I made a terrible mistake?

Ms. Albertson nodded sagely. “Well, it’s a credit to you. I never learned any language but English, though my mother told me I should learn Norwegian and talk to my grandmother properly. I took a year of it in high school, but I’m ashamed to tell you I barely passed the course and can’t remember but three or four words of the language now. You must have worked hard to speak as well as you do. I wouldn’t know but that you were born here, from the way you talk.”

Before Hong-Wei could come up with a polite reply, a bag hit him in the side of his head. A steadier stream of passengers had begun to board the plane, and a middle-aged, overweight businessman’s shoulder bag thudded against every seat as the man shuffled an awkward sideways dance down the narrow aisles. Either he didn’t realize he’d hit Hong-Wei or didn’t care, because he continued single-mindedly on… to the exit row.

Well, for that alone, Hong-Wei resented him.

His seatmate clucked her tongue. “Some people have no manners. Is your head all right? Poor dear. Let me have a look at it.”

Definitely a grandmother. Hong-Wei bit back a smile and held up his hands. “I’m fine, but thank you. It’s close quarters in here. I think a few bumps are bound to happen.” Hong-Wei was glad, however, he was in the aisle and not the frail Ms. Albertson.

“Well, scooch in closer, then, so you don’t get hit anymore.” She patted his leg. “I’ll show you pictures of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren I’m flying north to see.”

Not knowing what else to do, Hong-Wei leaned closer and made what he hoped were appropriate noises as Grace Albertson fumbled through her phone’s photo album.

He was rescued when the flight attendant announced they were closing the flight door, and a series of loudspeaker announcements meant for the next several minutes conversation was impossible, so outside of Hong-Wei’s polite decline of Ms. Albertson’s offer of a hard candy, he settled into silence.

The engines were loud as they taxied on the runway, so loud he couldn’t have listened to music even if he had headphones. He wished he’d bought some in the Minneapolis airport, or better yet had made sure to pack some in his carry-on. He supposed he could ask for a headset from the flight attendant, but they were always such poor quality, he’d rather do without.

Headphones were just one thing he should have prepared for. He’d rushed into this without thinking, full of the fury and headstrong nonsense Hong-Su always chided him for. It had felt so important to break away when he’d been in Houston, pressed down by everything. Here, now, with the roar of takeoff in his ears, with nothing but this last flight between him and his destiny, he didn’t feel that sense of rightness at all. He had none of the confidence that had burned so strongly in him, fueling his wild reach into the beyond.

I can be a doctor anywhere, he’d told himself defiantly as he made the decision to take this job. I can do surgery in Houston, Texas, Cleveland, Ohio, or Copper Point, Wisconsin. The farther away I am from the mess I made, the better.

Trapped, helpless in this plane, his defiance was gone, as was his confidence.

What have I done?

He was so consumed by dissolving into dread he forgot about his seatmate until they were in the air, the engines settling down, the plane leveling out slightly as Ms. Albertson pressed something that crinkled into his palm. He glanced down at the candy, then over at her.

She winked. “It’s peppermint. It’ll calm you. Or, it’ll at least give you something to suck on besides your tongue.”

Feeling sheepish, this time Hong-Wei accepted the candy. “Thank you.”

She patted his leg. “I don’t know what’s waiting for you in Duluth that has you in such knots, but take it from someone whose life has knotted and unknotted itself more than a few times: it won’t be as bad as you think it is, most likely. It’ll either be perfectly fine, or so much worse, and in any event, there’s not much you can do at this point, is there, except your best.”

The peppermint oil burst against his tongue, seeping into his sinuses. He took deep breaths, rubbing the plastic of the wrapper between his fingers. Any other time he would say nothing. Here on the plane, though, he couldn’t walk away, and he had no other means to escape the pressure of the panic inside him.

Talking about it a little couldn’t hurt.

“I worry perhaps I didn’t make the right choice in coming here.”

He braced for her questions, for her to ask what he meant by that, to ask for more details about his situation or who the people saying such things were, but she said only, “When you made the choice, weren’t you sure you were right?”

Hong-Wei sucked on the peppermint as he considered how to reply. “I didn’t exactly make a reasoned choice about my place of employment. I all but threw a dart at a map.”

Ms. Albertson laughed. “Well, that explains why you’re so uneasy now. But you still had a reason for doing what you did. Why did you throw a dart at a map instead of making a reasoned decision?”

His panic crested, then to his surprise rolled away under the force of the question, and Hong-Wei chased the last vestiges to the corners of his mind as he rolled the candy around with his tongue. “Because it didn’t matter where I went. Everything was going to be the same. Except I thought… I hoped… if I went somewhere far enough away, somewhere as unlike the place where I’d been as I could possibly get, maybe it would be different.”

“Ah.” She smiled. “You’re one of those. An idealist. Just like my late husband. But you’re proud too, so you don’t want anyone to know.”

Hong-Wei rubbed at his cheek. “That’s what my sister says. That I’m too proud, and my idealism holds me down.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of. We need idealists in the world. No doubt wherever you’re going needs them too. Good for you for taking a leap. Don’t worry too much about it. Even if it’s a disaster, you’ll figure it out, and you’ll make it work.”

“Except I don’t want it to be a disaster. I want to make it right, somehow.” He thought of his family, who had regarded him with such concern when he’d said he was leaving. I want to become someone they can be proud of, instead of the failure I am now.

“Of course you don’t. No one wants trouble. Sometimes a little bit of it isn’t as bad as we think.” Covering her mouth to stifle a yawn, she settled into her seat. “You have to take risks. You’ll never win anything big if you don’t.”

As his seatmate began to doze, Hong-Wei stared at the seat ahead of him, her advice swimming in his head. Take a risk. Without meaning to, he’d subliminally internalized this philosophy by accepting this job and moving here. The trouble came with his logical brain trying to catch up.

His whole life, all Hong-Wei had done was study and work. He’d been at the top of his class in high school, as an undergraduate, and through medical school. He’d been praised throughout his residency and fellowship and courted for enviable positions by hospitals from well beyond Baylor’s scope before any of his peers had begun to apply. A clear, practical map for his future had presented itself to him.

He still couldn’t articulate, even to himself, why he’d leapt from that gilded path into this wild brush, navigable only by dubious commercial jet.

Coming to Copper Point—the town seeking a surgeon the farthest north on the map, a town nowhere near any other hospitals or cities of any kind—felt like an escape that settled his soul. He knew nothing about Wisconsin. Something about cheese, he thought he’d heard. What it felt like to Hong-Wei was a clean slate.

Would it truly be different, though? Certainly it wouldn’t be Baylor, but would it be different in the right way?

Grace Albertson had called him an idealist with a smile. Hong-Su had always chided him for it. What he needed from Copper Point was some kind of signal that they valued him, idealism and all. That they appreciated the fact that he could have gone anywhere in the country but he’d chosen them. An indication that here might be the place he could find himself, make something of himself. One small sign to show they understood him. It didn’t seem too much to ask.

Ms. Albertson woke as the plane landed, and Hong-Wei helped her gather her things, then escorted her down the long walkway to the terminal and out through security.

“You seem to have found some of your confidence while I napped,” she observed.

He wasn’t sure about that. “I’ve decided to accept my fate, let’s say.”

She nodded in approval. “Remember, mistakes are the spice of life. If you arrive and it’s a disaster, embrace it. I promise you, whatever you find when you land, if you’re lucky enough to get to my age, when you look back at it from your twilight years, you’ll think of it fondly, so long as you approach it with the right spirit.”

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 homogenous, 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.”

None of this had come up when the administration had interviewed him, Hong-Wei thought as he sipped his beer, but he wasn’t surprised. He wondered how much else he could get Lane to confess. “What’s the work environment like? Do people get along? Are they competitive with one another?”

Lane seemed confused. “Competitive? I’m not sure what you mean. As far as getting along… well, it depends on who it is. Owen—he’s Dr. Gagnon—is known for being difficult, but I think that’s overblown, personally. The nurses gossip a lot, which I don’t care for, but it’s not like anybody can stop that either.” He sighed. “The hospital board is a little… scary. They’re all old, which would be fine, but they’re a total good-old-boys club. The hospital CEO is a solid guy, I always thought. He was friends with one of my friends in high school. The HR director, though, is the son of the hospital board president, and he makes me nervous. You know Roz, that woman from 9 to 5?”

9 to 5 was one of the movies he and Hong-Su had used to improve their English. “I’m familiar with her, yes.”

“He reminds me of her, sometimes. I feel like everything I say goes directly to the board.”

Lane toyed with his straw, first with his fingers, then with his lips as he stared off to the side, ostensibly considering something deeply. Hong-Wei paused with an onion ring halfway off his plate, arrested by the sight of Lane’s full lips teasing the straw.

Stop it, he chided himself. He’s a nurse. Your nurse.

The spell was broken when Lane sat back, a determined look on his face. “I’m going to tell you this because you’re going to hear about it eventually anyway. We’ve had our share of scandals recently at St. Ann’s. The CEO before Nick Beckert was fired due to embezzlement, and before the air was clear, a married clinic doctor was caught sleeping with his nurse. It was like watching a soap opera live at work, except it got ugly and made the papers and the TV news. I don’t think the board was paying as close attention then as they are now, though they’ve been worried about money since forever. Anyway, we got a new CEO, and the new HR person. The latter is really bringing down the hammer.” Lane aimed his fork at Hong-Wei. “Don’t be fooled by how Erin Andreas appears either. He seems small and sweet, but he smiles while he bites you. He’s already fired four people since he arrived last month.”

Interesting information. Hong-Wei digested it as he drank more beer. “Has he fired any doctors?”

Lane laughed, the sound startling for its bitterness. “Are you kidding? Not a chance. The doctors are never wrong.” Apparently remembering he was in the presence of a doctor, Lane averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “I mean, the hospital gives doctors the benefit of the doubt, always.”

“That will be an interesting change, then.” Hong-Wei picked up his burger and took a bite, thinking as he chewed. “I’ve been a surgical resident up until now. Things were my fault even if I was at home sleeping when they happened.”

“Nothing will be your fault. I thought things would get better once we switched to the electronic record-keeping system, because finally the doctors couldn’t blame us when we couldn’t figure out what their insane handwriting meant or when they wrote the order wrong and the pharmacist yelled at us. Now they still ask for the wrong dose of medicine, and when the pharmacist says an order would kill the patient and calls to tell them so, we get yelled at for letting them interrupt the doctor.”

The beer was unloosening things in Hong-Wei, making it easier to laugh. It also silenced the voice warning him not to notice how the lighting in the restaurant was making soft halos dance on top of Lane’s light brown hair, casting pleasant shadows across his broad shoulders. “This sort of thing happened to me in my residency as well. I hadn’t planned on passing on the experience to my nurses, though. I thought I’d prefer to be a competent surgeon instead.”

Oh, but Lane had a nice smile. “About that. I don’t know the full story, but I heard the other doctors and some administrators talking. I hear you’re an exceptionally good surgeon, or that you have some kind of special skill? I didn’t understand all of what they were talking about, but what I gathered is we’re very fortunate to have you at St. Ann’s.”

Hong-Wei held his glass to his lips longer than necessary as he tried to decide how to reply. He hadn’t given the full truth to St. Ann’s in his interview. Had they uncovered it on their own? It didn’t matter, he supposed, but it made him uneasy. The whole point in coming here had been to step back and be a simple general surgeon.

He cleared his throat and set down his glass. “I had many places to choose from for my postresidency employment, yes. I decided to come to St. Ann’s, however, because I wanted a more intimate, uncomplicated hospital experience.”

“Well, I don’t know about uncomplicated, but you’ll probably get more up close and personal with people than you care to.” Lane’s smile was crooked, apologetic, and impossibly endearing. “That includes me, I’m afraid. We have a few other backup nurses trained, but in the same way you’re the only surgeon at St. Ann’s, I’m the only surgical nurse. So we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, Dr. Wu.”

“Call me Jack.”

Lane’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, that’s your first name? Huh, not what I expected. Do most people in Taiwan have Western names these days?”

The beer had relaxed Hong-Wei’s tongue to the point of no return. Or perhaps it was Lane’s smile and gentle eyes. “No. Jack is the name I use with people outside my family, since Americans don’t have an easy time with Asian names.”

“Would you mind telling me your given name? I’ll use Jack if you prefer, but I’m curious about who you really are.”

Who you really are. He was both Jack and Hong-Wei equally at this point, but Lane was so clumsily charming, Hong-Wei couldn’t resist him. He shifted on his chair. “Wu Hong-Wei.” Why did he give it in Taiwanese order instead of Western order, with his surname first? Now he was just being silly.

You’re an idealist. Grace Albertson’s voice came back to him. Hong-Wei had to agree. Though now he wondered if he didn’t have to admit to being a romantic as well.

“Wu Hong-Wei.”

Hong-Wei shivered and went still.

Lane’s pronunciation came out as clumsy as any American’s attempt, maybe worse because he was clearly trying to mimic Hong-Wei.

Ever since the airport, the yearning to connect had been apparent in Simon Lane’s gaze, but now Hong-Wei saw the truth behind the nurse’s longing for what it was, a truth his escort probably didn’t want him to see. He’d come all this way to pick up the new surgeon because he’d been asked, because he was a nice guy… and because he was lonely.

Without a moment to prepare for the attack, Hong-Wei’s walls crumbled into dust.

He finished off the first beer and picked up the second, indulging in a long draught. “You may call me Hong-Wei if you like, Simon.”

Simon smiled so wide it lifted his ears and made his hazel eyes twinkle.

Losing himself in that smile, Hong-Wei couldn’t remember why, exactly, he shouldn’t pursue a flirtation with his nurse. Something told him the harder he tried to resist Simon Lane, the more he’d be sucked in.

A relationship wasn’t the adventure he’d come to Copper Point to pursue, and yet every instinct Hong-Wei had told him Simon would be the adventure he ended up taking.

Chapter Two

WU HONG-WEI.

The surgeon’s name rang in Simon’s head as he drove home after dropping Hong-Wei off at his condo. Wu Hong-Wei. All night Hong-Wei had spoken perfect English, but when he said his Taiwanese name in Mandarin, Simon felt a ridiculous thrill.

Which Simon reminded himself he shouldn’t have. Setting aside the fact that Dr. Wu—Hong-Wei—the new surgeon—was practically his boss, there was the new policy to bear in mind. Even so, Simon still floated as he parked the car and drifted up the path into the house. He shouldn’t think about the man that way, but for tonight at least, he would allow himself to dream.

Of course, he needed to be careful how he fantasized. Simon had two roommates, Owen Gagnon and Jared Kumpel, his friends from childhood who were doctors at the hospital. They were also two of the biggest gossips in Copper Point.

Owen and Jared were home, Jared in the kitchen washing dishes, Owen sprawled in the overstuffed chair with one foot on the ottoman and one on the floor as he surfed his laptop. Owen glanced up over the top of his glasses as Simon came in.

“The prodigal returns.” Owen removed his glasses and shut his computer. “So, what’s the verdict on the new surgeon?”

Jared wiped his hands on a towel and waved Simon over. “Come get your dinner first. I held it in the oven for you.”

“Oh, sorry, I already ate.” Simon toed off his shoes and hung up his jacket, determined not to show any signs of embarrassment. If they saw weakness, they would have no mercy. “I took Dr. Wu somewhere because he was hungry.”

Owen rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. This means you got more dish on him. Come on. Spill. Is he an arrogant asshole? I mean, to a degree it’s a given. He’s a surgeon.”

Jared pulled Simon’s plate out of the oven and put the food into a storage container. “I’ve met decent surgeons.”

“Your definition of decent doesn’t count. You are an arrogant asshole.” Owen gestured impatiently at Simon. “Out with it. What’s he like?”

Simon sat in the corner of the couch and drew his favorite afghan over his legs. How could he describe Hong-Wei without sounding ridiculous? “He’s a little reserved, though he warmed up after I talked to him for a bit.” He was also slightly aloof in a way Simon hadn’t expected to be so tantalizing. “He didn’t want to go to a fancy restaurant. He wanted to go to a pub-style place.” Simon searched his brain for more information. “He has a sister. He just finished his residency.”

He told me his real name.

Jared glanced at Simon, glass and towel in his hand. “I still don’t know why someone would come to Copper Point from Baylor St. Luke’s. Either he’s terrible, or he’s crazy.”

“Not a chance he’s terrible.” Owen rested his elbow on the armrest and leaned on his hand. “Beckert has been running around bragging about his catch ever since the hire was official.”

Jared snorted. “He might have seen Baylor on the app and lost his common sense.”

Simon thought of Hong-Wei, of the cool, confident way he’d handled himself at the airport, how graceful his hands were when doing something as simple as navigating a fork. “I don’t think Dr. Wu is incompetent.”

“He’s crazy, then.” Jared turned back to the sink. “I guess I don’t care, as long as he gets his work done.”

“You haven’t told us much about what you thought of him, Simon.” Owen pushed his glasses higher and raised his eyebrows at Simon. “You’re being quite cagey, in fact.”

Simon deliberately didn’t meet Owen’s gaze. “I think he’s nice. I mean, obviously I don’t know him well. All I did was have dinner with him and drive him home. He was quiet in the car. He was on his phone for a while, and he slept a little.”

He’d seemed to flirt a few times, but Simon had probably imagined things. At any rate, he wasn’t sharing that.

Owen looked ready to press for more, so Simon told him the rest. “There’s nothing at his place but the gift baskets everyone dropped off, mostly food and towels and toiletries. I tried to take him to Walmart to get some pillows and a blanket at least, but he didn’t want to go out again, so the building supervisor lent him some.”

Simon had given Hong-Wei his phone number in case he wanted to go shopping, and Hong-Wei had said he’d definitely be texting him. Simon didn’t share this detail either.

“The guy does his residency at one of the most prestigious med schools in the country, takes a job at a tiny hospital in a tiny city as far north as you can go without hitting Canada, and shows up without so much as a pillow. Jared’s right. Guy’s nuts.” Sighing in satisfaction, Owen threaded his fingers over his chest, shifting his body so his laptop nearly tipped into the recesses of the chair. “So, that’s settled. Next question. Did we get new hospital eye candy or not?” When Simon hid his face inside the blanket, Owen laughed. “And the answer is yes. Delicious. Are you calling dibs, Si?”

Popping out of the blanket again, Simon glared at Owen. “Of course I’m not. Andreas is running around waving the no-dating-between-staff-members policy in everyone’s face and making threats.”

Owen rolled his eyes. “Andreas is full of shit. Nobody’s going to obey his damn edict. It’s an idiotic order, especially in a town this size. The hospital is the number two employer. The odds alone mean people are going to meet their significant others there.”

“That’s fine for you to say, Owen. There’s no way they’ll fire their only anesthesiologist.”

Owen opened his laptop. “All I’m saying is you’re a fool if you turn down action with a hot surgeon because Andreas has a bee up his pert little butt.”

“Maybe you should put something else up Andreas’s butt,” Jared called from the kitchen.

Owen chucked a throw pillow at Jared, who dodged it neatly.

Simon’s daydreams about Hong-Wei began as soon as he went to bed. He wondered if Hong-Wei would call him. He imagined a shopping date where Simon helped Hong-Wei pick out furniture, decorations, and other apartment necessities. He got a thrill thinking maybe Hong-Wei would rely on him for all his errand needs, and he pressed his hands to his cheeks, visualizing himself rushing off to help. Hong-Wei would be waiting on the steps of his condo, looking off into the distance with his aloof expression, wind in his hair, wearing highly fashionable clothes. Then he’d see Simon, and his expression would ease.

Simon Lane, you’re completely, utterly ridiculous.