“Brutal,” David said, downing his third shot of tequila. “I had a fifty-six-year-old with epigastric spasms and Chen looking over my shoulder the entire time. I nearly broke out in a sweat. I had the diagnosis and treatment plan right. I mean, I’m a third-year resident, not a goddamn intern. I don’t need him to hold my hand.”

David was a brilliant resident who knew what he was doing. He was the golden god of the emergency room—graduated at the top of his class and would no doubt go on to do great things. Hearing him bitch about Chen gave Aubry some comfort. At least she knew Chen wasn’t singling her out.

Katie scooped up spinach dip with her chip, slid it into her mouth and swallowed, then nodded. “He did the same thing to me. I had a myocardial infarction with COPD complications and Chen stood in the room staring me down as I called for the treatment plan like it was my first day. I’m telling you, the man is downright unnerving.”

“He does it on purpose, you know,” Rick said.

Rick was another one of the residents. Aubry looked over at him. “Do you think so?”

“Sure. He figures if he can’t rattle you during a crisis, then you can handle your shit. If he flusters you, then you need work.”

Katie waved a chip at Rick. “You might be right about that. So we should just start ignoring him.”

Aubry laughed and took a sip of her cocktail. “Ignore him. Right. Good luck with that.”

“Does he quiz you when you’re working with a patient?” David asked them.

“Oh, my God,” Katie said. “All the time.” She settled into her best impression of Dr. Chen, because Katie did him best. She sat up straight in her chair and put on a sour face. “ ‘Dr. Murphy, what is the proper treatment plan for a patient presenting with acute diverticulitis?’ Keep in mind, all the while I’ve got the patient screaming in pain in the bed and I’m supposed to answer questions?”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Like I didn’t learn that during medical school? I mean come on. Ask me some hard questions.”

“He just wants us to be the best, you know.”

Katie pinned Aubry with a look. “Oh, come on. He’s a pain in the ass and I don’t think he’s busy enough. We were swamped in the ER tonight. Two car accidents with multiple injuries, two heart attacks, three fractures, multiple sutures and several gastric cases.”

“And a partridge in a pear tree,” David added.

“Exactly,” Katie said. “One would have thought he might have directed his attention to patient care instead of poking first-year questions at us like his residents were a bunch of imbeciles.”

Rick took a sip of his beer and nodded. “I’m with Katie on this. We could have used a hand, not a pop quiz.”

Aubry sighed. “Maybe you’re all right about that.” She rolled her head, trying to ease the tension in her neck. “Either way, we got through another night.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Katie said, and signaled their waitress for another round. As she did, she looked up at the bar and turned to Aubry. “Hey, Aubry, your hot baseball guy is on TV tonight.”

Aubry twisted in her chair to check out the television. “He’s not pitching. The camera just panned to him watching the game. Walter Segundo is up tonight.”

“What hot guy is that?” David asked.

“Aubry’s dating one of the players on the Rivers,” Katie said.

Aubry pinned Katie with a look before redirecting. “I’m not exactly dating him.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Katie scooped up the last of the spinach dip. “Aubry’s having sex with one of the Rivers’ players.”

“That clarifies things so nicely. Thank you so much, Katie.” Aubry shot her friend a scathing look.

Katie just grinned. “You’re welcome.”

“Which player?” Rick asked.

She hadn’t wanted anyone to know. But now they did, so she supposed there was no point in trying to hide anything. “Tucker Cassidy.”

Rick nodded. “Good pitcher. He was a great acquisition for the Rivers.”

She knew all about his acquisition, but she never told people about her father, and very few people made the connection. Katie knew, but that was about it. “Was he?”

“Yeah.” Rick went into a deep explanation of Tucker’s earned run average and his curveball while they watched the game.

“So,” David said. “Tucker Cassidy, huh? Never figured you were the type to date a baseball player.”