DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction for which we will receive no compensation, especially since all characters belong to a different Stephenie. But this story helped save the babies, which we are all for.

Thanks to maplestyle who would have read this chapter had we given her enough time, lol

How are we doing out there, kids? Everyone staying as safe and sane as you can?

Just a note that this chapter goes back in time a few hours, picking up not too long after Crowley was paged to the basement to see the Chief.

Chapter 34

"Your EKG still looks the same, which is a good sign," Rose said, examining the senator's chart.

"Good!" Eric, Senator Murray's assistant, smiled warmly at her. "That's good."

Rose suppressed an eyeroll as she continued reviewing the latest lab results. Rose had given up trying to tell Eric to stop fawning over the senator in front of her parents. The senator's husband had yet to arrive, but it seemed Eric was too far gone to be reined in regardless.

Idiot.

"Lastly," Rose said, "Your CBC also came back okay, but there are levels of Troponin T, or TnT, present, which is no surprise based on your..."

"TnT?" Her mother's eyes widened. "Like the explosive?"

"No, TnT is a complex protein integral to the contraction of heart and skeletal muscles."

"But what does it all mean?"

"It means your daughter is stable for the moment and..."

"For the moment?" Her mother shrieked. "So she could die any minute?"

"No, that's..." Rose gripped her chart, her jaw so tense she feared it might snap. She felt the eyes of the senior doctors on her, so she put on her best smile. "Mrs. Reed, I know this is scary for you. We're using a lot of big words and unfamiliar terms that are probably confusing and..."

"Are you saying we're stupid?" The senator's father came to his feet. "Because we have thick country accents and didn't go to a fancy school, you think we don't know anything?"

"No, I just meant that..."

"I'll have you know that I took two college classes and never missed an episode of St. Elsewhere!"

"St. Elsewhere?" Rose blinked at him. "That show from the 80s?"

Mr. Reed nodded proudly. "That's right!"

"Well, that's just..." Rose's reply was interrupted by the buzz of her pager. She suppressed her relief, pulling out the device with a dramatic sigh.

"I am so sorry," she said, bowing her head slightly. "I've been paged for an emergency. I'm afraid I must go."

"That's fine, Dr. Hale," Dr. Thomas said with a knowing twinkle in her eye. "You take your time, and I'll handle things from here."

"Thank you for being so understanding." Rose handed Dr. Thomas the chart then turned to the senator's parents, her genuine smile a mile wide. "Mr. and Mrs. Reed, I will see you later."

They stared after her with some confusion while Dr. Thomas opened the chart. "Let's go through this step by step."

Rose all but skipped out of the room, thanking God for whoever had paged her. She realized she hadn't read the page yet and stopped by a rack of clean linens to do so.

"A 911 page? From extension 2673?" Her brow furrowed as she thought it over. "That's... Administrator Cope's office. But what could she want with me?"

Rose took the direct route to Cope's office, scanning her memory for possible errors she could have made in the last few weeks. The only thing that came to mind was when she bribed an orderly last Tuesday to page Jake to a phony extension so she could steal a diaphragmatic hernia, but harmless pranks weren't against hospital policy.

She knew because she'd checked.

Besides, Jake got her back by giving her the wrong chart and letting her make a fool of herself in front of the cardio attending. She'd been pissed and embarrassed but could only respect his retaliation because it's exactly what she would have done.

She fleetingly wondered if this had something to do with Sugar Ray Cullen punching that guy in the atrium this morning. It was all anyone could talk about, and Rose had tried to ignore the useless gossip. Until she heard the stranger had been talking to Bella at the time, and Edward may have known who he was.

But Rose was allergic to speculation, so she shrugged off those thoughts and entered Administrator Cope's office. Mrs. Cope was on the phone and waved Rose in eagerly.

"She's here," she said into the phone. "Yes... Okay... We'll be there soon." She hung up and stood. "Dr. Hale."

"Mrs. Cope. Is everything okay?"

"Yes. The Chief needs you to come with me."

"The Chief?" Rose cleared her throat of its sudden nerves. "He wants to see me?"

"He asked for you specifically." Mrs. Cope looked at her. "Is that a problem?"

Rose shook her head. "No, ma'am."

"Good." She grabbed a zippered pouch from her desk and headed toward the door. "Come with me."

Rose trailed obediently after her, having no idea where they were headed. Administrator Cope turned so many corners and passed through so many halls that Rose had no chance of finding her way back to civilization without an experienced guide.

She wondered if that was intentional.

At length, Mrs. Cope stopped outside a room in the basement, turning to Rose with a serious expression.

"Dr. Hale, The Chief requested you because of your unflappable professionalism and reputation for discretion." She eyed her evenly. "I assume both will be in effect from this moment forward?"

"Of course, Mrs. Cope." She straightened. "Absolutely."

She nodded. "Good."

Mrs. Cope knocked twice and turned the knob, pushing the door inward as she entered. Rose hesitated before following her inside, her face frowned in confusion at what she saw.

It was a small and basic office space with a desk, a folding table, a few bookcases and filing cabinets, and a handful of mismatched office chairs. There were no windows in this room, but it smelled heavily of pine.

The Chief stood off to one side with Dr. Crowley, the two of them speaking in urgent but hushed tones. That in itself wasn't unusual, but the presence of a third party in the room brought Rose up short.

Brawny and blond, he was exactly the type of man Rose would dream about if she were the romantic sort. His lab coat indicated he was here on business, but he was sexy enough to warrant a possible violation of her strict no-fraternization policy.

The hot doc was reading a medical journal, so Rose couldn't see his eyes. But she'd bet cash money they were blue or hazel and twinkled with mischief. With his large hands and thick legs, she also knew he could handle anything she threw at him, and she wanted to give it all. Yes, this man was just the dose of delicious masculinity Rose needed right now, so she did the only logical thing.

She ignored him completely.

"Hello, Dr. Hale," The Chief said. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course, Dr. Carlisle. Is everything okay?"

"It will be, now that you're here." The Chief smiled, indicating the stranger. "I don't believe you've met Dr. McCarty."

"Haven't had the pleasure, no," she said briskly.

"Dr. McCarty, this is Dr. Rose Hale," Dr. Crowley said. "She's one of our most promising first-year's and has an interest in cardiothoracics."

The stranger stood, revealing himself to be taller than she'd thought. Rose expected his eyes - a stunning baby blue - to sparkle with lusty fascination as he looked at her, but they only stared back blithely. "Dr. Hale."

Rose swallowed her shock and gave him a terse nod. "Dr. McCarty."

The Chief continued, "Dr. Hale, this is Dr. Emmett McCarty, a visitor—"

"Emmett?" Rose asked, her gaze landing sharply on him. "From New York?"

"Yes," The Chief said. "Do you know him?"

"Let's just say his reputation precedes him," Rose said, her gaze flattening. Whatever interest she may have had in this spectacular specimen shriveled up the moment she realized who... or rather, what he was.

A homewrecker.

"Well, then," Dr. Crowley said. He'd caught the flash of recognition Dr. Hale had failed to hide and needed to step in before things got more awkward. "Let's get to why we called you here."

"Yes," The Chief said, urging Emmett to come forward. "Dr. McCarty, could you turn to the side, please?"

Emmett came forward and showed Rose the other side of his face.

"Wow," Rose said without realizing it. "Jake really does have a way with sutures."

"How did you know this was Dr. Black's work?" The Chief asked.

"I recognize his style. He's quick but thorough, and his patients never scar."

Crowley and The Chief shared a look, and Crowley nudged him. "Told you she knew her stuff."

"While Dr. Black's work is impeccable," The Chief said, "we're concerned that Dr. McCarty meeting Senator Murray and her family with a fresh face wound might not inspire confidence in his competence."

"I agree," Rose said. "But I..."

"Fail to see what that has to do with you?" The Chief chuckled. "That makes sense. Why don't you turn around and see?"

Rose looked and found the side table covered in small jars, tubs, and tubes with an assortment of brushes and sponges on the side. Mrs. Cope zipped up the now empty pouch and tucked it under her arm.

"Is that makeup?" Rose asked, incredulity lacing her tone.

"It is, yes." The Chief said. "I would like you to use it on Dr. McCarty and make his scar disappear."

"What?" She remembered who she was speaking to and lowered her voice. "Forgive my tone, Chief, but I'm... I'm not sure if... that is, I'm not really a..."

"I told him you don't wear much makeup," Crowley said. "Why would you with a face like yours? Honestly, I'm gonna need a rundown of your skincare routine because your pores are nonexistent and..."

The Chief cleared his throat. "Dr. Crowley."

"Sorry. Dr. Hale, we know you're not the contouring, 40-minute-daily-routine type. But there is no one I trust more with an assignment as confidential and sensitive as this."

"Plus," The Chief said. "As you are on the senator's case, you could apprise Dr. McCarty of her situation while you work on his face."

Rose made a point of not looking at that face, fearing his dimples might kill her. "I see."

"I know this is not a medical situation, and you could refuse," The Chief said. "But given the circumstances..."

"No need to explain further," Rose said. "I am at your service."

"Thank you, Dr. Hale." The Chief seemed genuinely relieved. "This is a great help."

Rose nodded, focusing on the assortment of products while Crowley and The Chief spoke to Dr. McCarty. Though her morning routine took all of five minutes – brows, sunscreen, lips, done – Rose had realized in undergrad that makeup artistry was a lucrative side hustle. She took a class at a local cosmetology school, got her certificate, and happily beat the faces of eager sorority hopefuls during Rush Season. Senior year, she'd made enough for a down payment on her first car.

She didn't remember telling anyone that, but Crowley seemed to have a sixth sense about all his interns, so she shouldn't have been surprised that he knew about her secret skill.

"I assembled this kit a few years ago," Mrs. Cope said as she came up beside Rose. "We'd frequently have guests who didn't expect to be in a hospital and needed a touch up or a whole new look. I purge old products every three months and clean the brushes after each use. I now have four different kits for fair, light, medium, and dark tones."

Rose inspected a bottle of foundation. "And this stuff isn't cheap."

"The Chief insisted on the best." Mrs. Cope lowered her voice and pointed at a tube of concealer. "He has two of these in his desk."

"No shit!"

"Under-eye circles like you wouldn't believe." The Chief was wrapping up his conversation, so Mrs. Cope added at normal volume, "When you're done, pack and leave the case at any Nurses Station. They'll be sure I get it back."

"Okay."

"I'd like to introduce Dr. McCarty to Senator Murray within two hours," The Chief said to Rose.

"That won't be a problem," she replied. "I'll likely be done in one."

"Excellent." The Chief extended his hand. "Thank you, Dr. Hale. Your cooperation will not go unnoted."

"It's truly my pleasure, sir." Rose shook his hand firmly. "Anything for the good of the hospital."

Crowley nodded his approval, and everyone left the room except Rose and Emmett.

And suddenly the space seemed way too small. Too small, too quiet, and too much like a place where two individuals might sneak in a little afternoon delight were they so inclined.

Rose slapped herself internally, willing her libido to get itself together. She was too professional to forget what was at stake here and too proud to betray her attraction to someone who hadn't given her a second look.

Someone, she reminded herself, who had slept with another man's wife, a man who was supposedly his best friend. That man may have been Asshole Almighty, but some laws were sacred, and McCarty had violated one of the big ones.

Dammit.

Rose turned her attention to the array of cosmetics, reading the labels to stall for time. All the while, Dr. McCarty stood silently behind her, and she realized that for the sake of them getting on with it, she would have to speak first.

"Have a seat," she said, pleased with her clipped but polite tone.

"Where?"

She looked around, wishing for better light. If she used the desk lamp and angled it just right...

"Bring that chair over here," she said. "The one with the high back. And grab the lamp from the desk."

McCarty lifted the chair and placed it beside the table. He set the lamp on the corner of the table, holding the cord. "Outlet?"

"There should be one under this table."

McCarty dropped to his knees beside her, and Rose's skin flushed as her mind nose-dove into the gutter. Thankfully McCarty couldn't see her once he crawled under the table to plug in the lamp, and by the time he sat in the chair, her face was a mask of polished indifference.

She clicked on the lamp and frowned, realizing the light was too low. McCarty must have noticed too, for he jumped up and plucked two hardback journals from a nearby shelf. He held out the books, but Rose just stared at him. After an awkward beat of silence, he set them on the table.

"Thanks," she said after a moment.

"You're welcome."

He sat in the chair while Rose adjusted the lamp, the tension in the room thick but bearable. Now that he was seated and the light was right, she would have to start on his face. Which means she would have to touch him.

She rubbed her hands together to warm them and selected a tube of primer. "I'm ready to begin."

"Okay."

Rose squirted some primer onto a beauty sponge and bent to his face, tipping up his chin with gentle fingers. McCarty went still as she touched him, and she carefully dabbed the liquid around his scar, hesitating to touch it.

"It doesn't hurt," he said.

"What?"

"You don't have to avoid the scar. It doesn't hurt."

She raised a skeptical brow. "That's a lot of stitches for something that doesn't hurt."

He clenched his jaw, looking away. "It doesn't hurt."

"If you say so."

Rose applied the primer to his scar with focused but light pressure. She stepped back to inspect her work, and once satisfied, she grabbed three tubes of concealer to color match them to his skin. Once she chose the right shade, she compared it to the available foundation, wanting the blend to be perfect.

McCarty sat stock still as she worked, and she was impressed that he didn't fidget, hum, or do anything else to suggest he was uncomfortable. Maybe he found her presence soothing. Maybe he was trying to make a good second impression to make up for his earlier rudeness. Or maybe he wasn't thinking about her at all and she needed not to be so vain.

Nah, that couldn't be it.

"How was her third EKG?"

Rose started, nearly dropping the concealer. "What?"

"Senator Murray," he said. "The Chief said you were assigned to her case."

"I am."

"I'm asking about her third EKG. And her blood tests."

"Her..." Rose blinked back her surprise. "Uh... I..."

"If you don't remember, then don't..."

"I remember," she said sharply, then cleared her throat. "Both were normal. The amiodarone and sotalol seem to be working with no significant changes overnight. Her initial syncope has resolved for the moment. Hold still, please."

She angled his head to one side to get a better look under the lamplight, frustrated by her inability to answer him. Rose knew her shit and needed to get it together.

She chose two shades of foundation to achieve a more natural look and set the others aside. McCarty sighed as she dabbed on the first shade, a faint trace of cinnamon wafting toward her. She would have pegged him as a spearmint man, and this minor deviation from her expectations intrigued her.

Focus, Hale! He is off-limits for at least three good reasons. Go back to the senator's case – that's a safe topic and the real reason you're here.

"Her blood workup saw traces of Troponin, indicating a heart attack," Rose said, moving to lightly cover the rest of his face with the first shade. "Senator Murray has no history of heart problems, but her father, Mr. Reed, had a small MI over a decade ago. He's currently under the care of a cardiologist and the delusion that he's an honorary doctor having seen every episode of St. Elsewhere."

"What?"

"Mr. Reed informed me that his extensive medical knowledge comes courtesy of the 80s medical drama that launched Denzel's career. So he - Mr. Reed not Mr. Washington - is perfectly capable of understanding everything I say." She tilted her head to study her work, nodding with satisfaction. "I had no comment."

"Sometimes that's for the best," McCarty said, his dimples briefly coming out to play.

Rose cleared her throat. "Yes, it is."

Rose got started with the second shade, dabbing it on with a damp sponge then blending in light strokes with a brush. McCarty said nothing, and once again, she was affronted. Surely, she deserved some praise for her soft hands, obvious expertise with makeup, or her ability to remember the details of Senator Murray's case.

Never mind her obvious beauty and banging body. Was this guy blind or something?

"CBC?" he asked.

"What?"

"Do you know the results of her CBC?"

"No," she said. "And not because I can't remember. I was pulled from the patient's room to play Beauty Shop before Dr. Thomas covered it."

She tossed the used the beauty blender into the trash can and grabbed the matte finishing spray. "Close your eyes," she said.

He did so, and as she sprayed his face, she pretended not to notice how his lashes lay against his skin. Or how lovely his countenance was. Her traitorous brain imagined waking up beside him, that same peaceful expression greeting her in the morning before his eyes fluttered open and...

Fuck, I need to get laid. Or cut someone open.

"All done," Rose said brusquely, turning toward the table.

McCarty rose from the chair and stretched, bending to inspect his face in the mirror.

"Wow," he said, turning this way and that. "I can barely see the scar."

"I'm good at what I do," she said, cringing at her tone. Did she have to sound like she was flirting?

"So Dr. Crowley said," he said. "It sounds as if your medical prowess exceeds your considerable cosmetic skills."

She averted her face to hide her blush. "That's not for me to say."

"No, but such praise from your chief resident must have been earned. You should take pride in it."

She nodded, still unable to look at him. "Thank you, doctor."

"Now." He checked his watch. "I'd like a moment to get myself acclimated before meeting the senator. I'll page Dr. Thomas in ten minutes then we can all meet to discuss things in person."

It'll take me twice that long to find my way out of here! she thought crossly.

"Of course," she said, smiling politely.

"Great," he said. "I'll see you upstairs."

McCarty left without closing the door, so Rose had to keep her mouth shut lest her voice echo down the hall. She cleaned up the makeup, wrapping the used brushes in some paper towels. She wiped the table and put the chairs, books, and lamp back where they belonged.

All the while, her thoughts strayed to the sexy but silent surgeon who'd all but ignored her for the last 45 minutes. Yes, he'd been polite and even complimentary toward the end, but he'd regarded her as a doctor only, not as the alluring, irresistibly gorgeous woman she knew herself to be.

And... yes, that's the way he should have behaved. Had he objectified her or made an advance, she would have stabbed him in the eye with the business end of the blending brush.

But still! He couldn't have smiled or winked or laughed or something? Given her some indication that he was as attracted to her as she was to him?

Not that it mattered, of course. Because Rose didn't date homewreckers, even if that home belonged to Fucktard Cullen, and she definitely didn't date colleagues.

Even ones with beautiful blue eyes.

Rose grabbed Mrs. Cope's makeup bag with a huff, fussing at herself as she surveyed the room one last time. She cut out the light and shut the door with authority. She didn't know who Emmett McCarty thought he was, but she would not let him get under her skin.

No matter how cute those damn dimples were.

ladylibre was reeeally nervous about this chapter for some reason, so we'd love to know your thoughts.

Story rec: The endlessly talented pattyrose just started a fresh and fun fic, "Two Holidays and a Funeral."

Thank you all for taking this ride with us. We'll see you soon! XOXO