The Blackwood Affair

The Stage For Max

River glanced at his watch and swore under his breath.

The consult.

He reached for his pager and pressed the callback

number.

“Hey, Ben. Can you cover Cardiology for twenty minutes?”

A pause. “I owe you.”

“I know.” River laughed. “I’ll take your Saturday call next week.”

He hung up and looked at Olivia. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“Lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “I wasn’t asking.”

“I’ve just been publicly dismantled. And your solution is food?”

“My solution,” he corrected, “is lemonade. Food just happens to come with it.”

Olivia smiled. “Fine. But if anyone mentions Conference Room Three…”

“I’ll accidentally spill juice on them.” River said, pulling her hand.

“You’d never.”

“No.” He sighed dramatically. “But I’d think about it very hard.”

Then they headed towards the cafeteria.

Olivia should have known better. At Montclair, news travelled faster than the speed of light.

They had barely stepped inside the cafeteria before she caught the first whisper.

“…I heard Blackwood made her rewrite the whole chart.”

“No, that’s not what happened.”

“My registrar said he threw the file back at her and sent her out of the room.”

“Seriously? Didn’t someone say she argued with him and he made her recite hospital protocols?”

River reached for two trays and glanced sideways at Olivia. “It’s fine. They’d forget all about it tomorrow.”

She groaned. “It’s been less than two hours.”

“That’s Montclair’s speed.”

They carried their trays to an empty table near the windows.

Nadia arrived moments later, dropping into the chair opposite them with the weariness of someone who had forgotten what sleep looked like.

“I don’t even want to know,” she said

Her hand immediately reached across the table and stole one of Olivia’s fries.

“You never ask.”

“Because I’d rather not waste time.”

“You’ve already heard, haven’t you?”

Nadia chewed thoughtfully. “Give it until tomorrow, you’d have resigned, sued Montclair and secretly married Blackwood.”

River choked on his sandwich.

Olivia pointed a fry at her. “If that rumor starts, I’m blaming you.”

“You should.” Nadia reached for another fry. “I’d make it much more interesting.”

….

By the time Olivia was done for the day, the sun had disappeared behind a wall of grey clouds.

She checked her phone as she stepped onto the pavement.

Three missed calls from Max.

“Oh, shit.” Olivia mumbled to herself as she stopped in her tracks.

Then she checked the messages.

MAX: Where are you?

MAX: Please tell me you didn’t forget.

She hurried toward the parking garage already typing.

OLIVIA: I’m coming, I got stuck in surgery. With an upside down smile emoji.

She shoved her phone into her bag and headed for her car.

Olivia knew she was in trouble before she even opened the apartment door.

Music was already playing. It sounded like Max’s moody playlist. It was loud enough to hear through the door.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open.

“Max?”

No answer.

She stepped inside and found her roommate sprawled across the couch in a tiny red strapless dress that stopped right above her knees, a makeup brush in one hand and her phone in the other.

Olivia dropped her bag beside the door. “I swear, I didn’t forget.”

Max slowly lowered the makeup brush. “You promised you would be there.

“You’re supposed to be my emotional support, I’ve never done this before.”

She had been singing for years. In the shower. In the kitchen. While doing dishes. Late in the night when she thought Olivia was asleep.

But tonight was different.

An old college friend had recently opened a small restaurant and, out of nowhere, reached out to ask if she’d come perform for the opening weekend.

Max had said yes before she could talk herself out of it.

She wasn’t getting a proper fee, just whatever people left in tips, but she didn’t care. She was going to stand on a stage and sing.

And now that the stage was actually happening in less than an hour, she was beginning to wonder if she’d lost her mind.

“Max, I’ve heard you sing.” Olivia walked over and squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

Max gave her a doubtful look.

“And I’ll be right there,” Olivia continued. “Front row. Cheering so loudly you’ll probably regret inviting me.”

She glanced down at the dress and grinned. “Besides, you’re not backing out now. Not after putting on that dress.”

A smile tugged at Max’s mouth. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know.”

Max pointed toward the hallway. “Go change.”

“I have absolutely no idea what to wear.” Olivia groaned.

“Anything that doesn’t scream I’ve been working at the hospital for over fourteen hours and could fall asleep while standing would do.”

“Well, that was very helpful.” Olivia laughed, retreating to grab her bag. “And for goodness sake, please change that song!”

“Four minutes doctor.”

Their apartment was small enough that Max could hear her opening drawers from the living room.

It wasn’t much.

Two bedrooms. One bathroom. A tiny kitchen that could barely accommodate two people at once. A narrow living room with a second-hand sofa Max had insisted looked “vintage” and Olivia had agreed because it was cheap.

But it was clean, comfortable and, most importantly, theirs.

Montclair had arranged it for Olivia when she joined the hospital. It was one of the perks of working there.

Not exactly luxury. Not yet.

Probationary doctors didn’t get luxury.

They got apartments close enough to the hospital that they could be called in without warning and small enough to remind them they hadn’t earned permanence yet.

Olivia had rented the spare room to Max a few months ago, mostly because the extra money helped. Somewhere along the way, the arrangement had turned into friendship and late-night conversations.

“Olivia, we’re going to be late!” Max yelled out from the living room.

Olivia came out of the room a few minutes later wearing a green, fitted sundress that skimmed her curves before falling loosely around her knees.

Max looked up from her phone and whistled. “Pheww, I hope you’re not trying to steal my show tonight.”

Olivia looked down at herself. “Please. You’re the one wearing the red dress.”

“Exactly. Which means I need to be the prettiest person in the room.”

Olivia grabbed her keys from the counter and rushed to open the door with a bow. “Your fans are waiting ma’am.”