The hospital corridors felt quieter after I left Ella’s room, but inside my head, there was nothing but noise.
Flashbacks to the island mixed with Ella on my operating table. Her moans of pleasure blended into the moans of pain she made before anesthesiology arrived.
The trust in her eyes as I thrust into her melded with the look on her face when she realized I was with her in the ED.
She had been on the verge of death, but the moment she knew I was with her, she had calmed down.
The ultimate trust.
Seeing her again had shaken me. There was no other word for it. I had always thought if I ran into her in the city, we’d have a laugh, a drink, and tumble into my bed. Never thought she’d be on my operating table.
I should have been able to walk away, leave her to recover, focus on my next case, and do anything I was supposed to be doing—but I couldn’t. The need to stay, to know more, to be near her, to breathe her in, gnawed at me.
I had spent months telling myself she was a memory, a perfect mirage that had existed only on that island. For a while, I had told myself she wasn’t real. Anything to take the edge off.
Briefly, I even considered hiring a private investigator to track her down somehow. How many assistant chefs named Ella were in a city as big as New York?
Probably a lot. But it was all I had to go on.
The idea of tracking her down, as appealing as it was, was too close to stalker territory, and that would only have expanded the distance between us if she had ever found out what I’d done. I had no intention of letting that happen. After I gave up on that dream, I knew I’d never see her again.
And yet, there she was, very real, in my hospital, with two newborns.
I was too distracted, too tangled in my own thoughts, and I nearly ran straight into the last person I wanted to see.
‘Watch where you’re walking, Mortoli,’ a smug voice said, dripping with fake civility.
I gritted my teeth and looked up to find Seth Bowan standing in front of me, arms crossed, a smirk plastered across his annoyingly punchable face.
Seth was one of those guys who had a way of getting under your skin. He wasn’t a bad doctor—not by a long shot. That was the problem. He was competent, sharp, and ambitious as hell. We were in the same field, similar ages, similar credentials. The only difference was, he was an ass about it.
‘Didn’t take you for the type to avoid pages,’ Seth said, tilting his head in mock curiosity.
“I was busy.”
Seth let out a slow, exaggerated sigh. ‘Sure, whatever you say. I wanted an update on one of your patients—Ella Green.’
How the hell does he know her name? Something inside me prepared for a fight. I didn’t want to hear her name out of his mouth ever again. I kept my face impassive. “You’re not on her case. What do you need an update for?”
“Sounded like an interesting patient. Status?”
‘I’m pretty sure you know sharing patient information is a HIPAA violation.’
“Fine.” Seth scoffed, rolling his eyes. ‘The truth is, she works for my wife.’
That caught my attention.
‘Carrie sent her here,’ he continued. ‘She wanted to make sure Ella got the best care. Since I wasn’t in the ED when she came, I didn’t have the case. So, I told her I’d check in, but you’re making that unnecessarily difficult. Anything notable?’
My lips curled into a slow, amused smile. ‘As I said, that would be a HIPAA violation.” I clapped him on the shoulder as I stepped past him and pasted a grim smirk on my face. ‘And I know you wouldn’t want me to get in trouble, just as much as I wouldn’t want to have to report you for asking that kind of thing.’
Seth let out a sharp exhale through his nose, clearly irritated. ‘Fine. Be difficult.’
But I barely heard him. My mind was turning over a new detail.
Ella works for Carrie Bowan at Suivante.
I’d heard of it, of course—everyone in the city had. It was one of the most sought-after reservations in the tristate area, on the way to a Michelin star. A restaurant that thrived on experimentation, known for its risk-taking menu, where dining was more than eating—it was an experience.
And Ella worked there. That wasn’t just impressive—it was her. It made sense. She had that same daring energy, that same ability to turn the ordinary into something extraordinary. She wasn’t just some girl who was game for anything—being game for anything was how she lived. She was a risk taker, a woman who liked adventure.
Someone who could keep up with me.
The realization sat with me as I made my way toward the hospital’s koi pond. I needed air, needed to clear my head before I lost control entirely. The garden was quiet this time of day, the gentle trickle of water from the fountain cutting through the din of the city beyond. I sat on the bench near the pond, watching the koi swirl beneath the surface in the evening light. They came, looking for a donation.
“Sorry, kids, I’m all out. No free dinner today.”
After a minute, they gave up begging from me to do whatever it was koi did when people weren’t around. That was good. I needed to focus. Ella was a distraction, and I couldn’t afford more distractions. I had too much on my plate. My kids, my company and my career at the hospital.
Even with my ambition burning in my chest, my mind still drifted to her.
To the way she had looked at me, scared, but not backing down. Not scared of me—but of what there could be. To the way my name had slipped from her lips when she saw me, full of exhaustion and something close to relief.
I told myself I wasn’t that guy. Before I had met her, I wasn’t the type to get fixated, to let something—or someone—distract me from my goals. The only person who had ever distracted me was Jodie Thompson. My late wife.
Jodie had been a detour from my path to med school. My parents hated her at first because they knew she would be enough to tear me away from what I had to do. For a time, she was.
Eventually, though, I got back on my path and did more with my time in medical school than my parents ever thought I could. All of that was thanks to Jodie. She was my rock. After she left us, there were others I dated to kill time, to help me network, or merely to have a nice weekend with.
But this wasn’t some passing interest. This was different. I hadn’t felt anything like this in years.
‘Dr. Mortoli!’
I turned to see Roxanne Weiss, one of the hospital’s lead administrators, walking toward me. With her tailored suit, pristine posture, and clipped tone, Roxanne was every bit the hospital executive—sharp, calculating, and always five steps ahead.
I greeted her, shifting into my more professional persona. ‘Something I can do for you?’
She smiled, but it was the type of smile that meant business. It never reached her eyes. ‘Actually, yes. I just had an interesting conversation about a certain administrator role opening up. I understand you’ve been interested?’
I kept my expression even. ‘I have.’
The administrator role had been on my radar for over a year. I had worked my ass off for it, made the right connections, played the long game. Moving into administration wasn’t just about power—it was about control.
In my current position, I couldn’t stop the bullet from being shot at someone—I could only patch them up and hope for the best. Administrators had influence, though, and influence was the biggest asset in policy changes. In the ED, chaos was part of the job. You reacted, you adjusted, you fought to save the patients in front of you. A noble cause. But administration? That was where decisions were made. That was where the hospital and the community’s futures were shaped.
In the ED, you saved a life. In the administration, you saved lives.
I wanted that.
I had spent too much of my life feeling like I was catching up, like I was a step behind, trying to balance everything at once. The competitive edge had always been there, the hunger for something more. It wasn’t about beating Seth—it was about proving that I was the best. That I was the one who should be establishing protocol, not just following it.
Roxanne had noticed which meant my hard work was paying off. I had been taking on more leadership responsibilities, handling the more difficult cases, and proving I was a surgeon with administrative potential. They already knew about my company, which was a significant feather in my cap, but they had to see me put in the work for the hospital.
But if Seth got the position, I’d put sugar in his gas tank.
‘Interesting,” she continued. ‘Seth Bowan has his eye on it as well. Do you know much about his family situation?’
I had options. I could paint Seth as a man distracted and make him sound like an unfit candidate, or I could shoot myself in the foot and be honest. For a moment, I seriously considered lying.
But if I was going to get the job, I wanted to earn it, not get the position through trickery. I wanted to beat Seth fair and square so there was no doubt about who was the better doctor. ‘As far as I know, it’s just him and his wife. They both work long hours, no time for a family.’
“What does she do?”
“She owns Suivante.”
Roxanne arched a brow. “Well, if he really wants the position, he should get me reservations.” It took a moment for a smile to break over her face. “A joke.”
I smiled. “Ah.”
“His home life is stable? No divorce on the horizon?”
“I’ve heard him complain about not seeing her as much as he’d like to, but that’s all he ever says on the matter.”
Roxanne nodded approvingly. ‘That’s good to know. When it comes to our workload, a tumultuous home life is less than ideal.”
“Certainly. Administrators are too busy to deal with distractions.” Like I was at the moment.
“That and, well, we try to avoid bringing in administrators on the brink of divorce or parents with young children. It’s not a good fit for either party. The hours are brutal, and it’s impossible to be a fully present parent or running off to the divorce lawyer every five seconds and a fully committed administrator. The job requires one’s full attention.’
“It’s not an easy job, and that’s why it’s so appealing.”
“You like a challenge?”
I nodded once. “An easy life is for other people. I want to work.”
‘That’s good. This job requires eighty to a hundred hours a week, which is why we weed out people with too much going on at home,’ she said bluntly. ‘It’s too much unless you want to be an absentee parent or a bad spouse. And frankly, we try not to put people in that position.’ She paused. That’s why it’s good that your kids are grown.’
‘Leonardo and Gina are great and, thankfully, well beyond needing their father to care for them.’ Mostly.
She studied me for a moment, her gaze sharp. ‘It’s a tough job, Dominic. Are you sure you can handle it?’
‘I’m more than qualified. And I’m more than ready.’
Roxanne gave a small, satisfied nod. ‘Good to hear. I’ll be in touch.’
I watched her walk away, feeling a familiar rush of competitiveness stir inside me. The position was mine.
I had spent my whole career preparing for it without even realizing it. My inner competitiveness meant I was never satisfied with being good enough. I had to be the best. I had sacrificed weekends, holidays, time with my family. I had spent years proving I was the best in the ED. I was the surgeon people called when things got bad. This was the next step, the only step that made sense.
But now, there was another hunger gnawing at me.
Ella. I knew where she worked now. And I wasn’t done with her yet.
