Medical Center
George only realized later what Adam had been teasing him about.
Still, he decided to take Adam's advice and start putting more effort and time into medicine. It wasn't that Adam's words had suddenly ignited some grand ambition in him. No, it was more practical than that. He was already in this situation—if he didn't buckle down and ended up getting "struck out" by Adam, it'd be way too humiliating. Plus, he was genuinely worried about "losing his charm as he aged" and being dumped.
Sure, right now it was Callie chasing after him, acting like he was her "dream guy." In this relationship, she seemed way more invested than he was—almost like she was terrified he'd break up with her. But that was an illusion. It was all because Callie was the one taking the lead. If she ever stopped wanting to, she could walk away without a second thought.
And when that happened? He'd probably be the one clinging on, all heartbroken and pathetic, turning into the "abandoned wife" of the story. From start to finish, Callie held all the power. George wasn't exactly the type who could shamelessly live off someone else's dime like a pro.
Adam watched their retreating figures, shaking his head with a little smirk.
An outsider sees things clearly.
He'd long noticed George had the makings of a "kept man." Callie was a senior resident, now promoted to chief resident, came from a wealthy family, and, well, her looks and figure? Beauty's in the eye of the beholder, but in the world of American TV dramas, plenty of people were into her type.
This fierce, older-sister type was absolutely smitten with George. She'd tossed aside her pride and authority as a senior doctor to chase him, even going so far as to cover for her rival Meredith by publicly claiming those infamous panties—pinned to the bulletin board by Dr. Montgomery—as her own, all for George's sake.
And that wasn't a one-off. She'd done stuff like that more times than he could count. Now, she was basically living with George, shacking up in a five-star hotel suite.
According to George, Callie was related to the hotel owner, so she got a huge discount. He insisted on splitting the bill, chipping in $200 a week for food and lodging. Every time Adam heard this, he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.
He'd stayed at that five-star hotel before—it wasn't like he didn't know the rates. Plenty of hospital bigwigs, like the surgical chief kicked out by his wife or the new guy Mark Sloan, were regulars there. Even VIP patients often stayed there before checking into the hospital. Adam knew the costs inside out.
No way you're getting a room for less than $300 a night. Even with a long-term discount, it wouldn't dip below $250 a day. And ever since George started staying there, he'd fallen in love with their breakfasts, eating at the hotel almost every morning. The cheapest meal there was $50 per person.
Rough math? To live George's current fancy lifestyle, the weekly bill would be at least $2,500—and that's not even counting daily tips for room service. Breakfast alone wouldn't always stick to the bare minimum either. That $2,500 could easily climb to $3,000, or even $4,000 if you weren't careful.
George handing over $200 a week to "split" the cost? That's a discount so steep it might as well be a broken bone.
Hmm. Callie, the orthopedic resident, pulling off an imaginary "fracture discount" out of thin air? Pretty clever. Adam suspected she couldn't get past George's pride, so she let him toss in a token amount for the sake of "going halves." That money probably went straight to the cleaning staff as a tip.
So, when Adam called George a "beauty," was he really wrong?
---
Over here, Adam sent "Beauty" George and Lexie off to write up patient charts.
Over there, Carter rushed over in a panic to find the one they called "The Nurse Who Gets It."
"Violet!"
"Hey, if it isn't Dr. Carter!"
The Nurse Who Gets It spotted Carter and teased, "What's the big doctor got for me today?"
"Cut it out," Carter said, flustered. "Dr. Duncan just kicked me back to the ER out of nowhere. Do you know what's going on?"
"That's big-doctor stuff. How would us little nurses know?" she shot back with a mocking edge.
"…"
If Carter couldn't pick up on the sarcasm now, he'd have to be as clueless as Sheldon. He forced a grin. "Violet, why you gotta talk like that?"
"Like what?" she said, putting on an exaggerated act. "I'm just a lowly nurse. This is how I've always talked. What, now that Dr. Carter's a big-shot doctor, even my tone sounds foreign to you?"
"Okay, I messed up!" Carter caved, throwing his hands up. "Violet, just tell me what I did—I'll fix it!"
Kidding aside, was The Nurse Who Gets It just any nurse? She was his guiding light. Without her pointers, forget being a surgical intern under Dr. Duncan—he wouldn't even have landed a gig as an ER intern, the job he used to scoff at. Plus, she was clearly one of Dr. Duncan's favorites, practically his top supporter in the medical center.
Now that she was giving him the cold shoulder, what choice did he have but to own up fast?
"Hmph!" Violet huffed. "You figure out you're wrong now? What was with all that swagger before? You barely become a doctor and suddenly start looking down on us nurses?"
"I didn't!" Carter protested, practically shouting his innocence.
"Oh, really?" she sneered. "Then who was it that bossed Carol around, demanding she bring you barbecue—chicken, but no drumsticks, beans not too sweet, plus a cabbage salad and all that nonsense? She doesn't owe you anything. Bringing you food is a favor, not her job. What gives you the right to order her around like that with a laundry list of demands? Just because you're a doctor now, Dr. Carter?"
"That was me…" Carter mumbled, embarrassed. "I mean, I wasn't bossing her around, I was just asking—"
He trailed off under Violet's withering stare, unable to finish. Because it hit him—his tone had been bossy. And Carol had even sarcastically asked, "Anything else you need, Doctor?" He hadn't caught it at the time and rattled off more requests without so much as a "thank you."
Back in the day, he'd been all "Carol this, Carol that," flashing warm, humble smiles left and right. Violet didn't need to spell it out—he hadn't noticed it himself, but ever since he'd put on that official doctor's coat with "Dr. Carter" embroidered on it, he'd gotten cocky.
"And don't get me started on the OR earlier!" Violet added, her voice icy. "When someone helped you into your surgical gown, the old you would've said 'thank you' a million times. Now? You don't even bother with a name, just strut in, head high, acting like it's owed to you. You might as well have 'I'm different, hurry up and dress me' written on your face. You're so full of yourself everyone's noticed—you think Dr. Duncan didn't?"
"I'm sorry…" Carter muttered, shame washing over him.
Some things you don't realize until they're pointed out, and then you want to crawl into a hole. Carter's arrogance was exactly that.
(End of Chapter)