Veiled Hearts

Three

Violet stood in front of Hamilton-Grant Teaching Hospital, clutching her mid sized brown tote bag and wearing a burgundy tailored dress suit with black pumps. The towering 65-floor building loomed above her, its sleek glass windows reflecting over the city. The entrance buzzed with activity as doctors, nurses, technicians, and teaching staff hurried to and fro, while patients and their families streamed in and out the revolving doors, their faces reading expressions of relief , sadness, or worry.

The cool air of the lobby greeted her, carrying the faint scent of antiseptic. The space was a hive of activity, with people crisscrossing in every direction. Violet's heels clicked sharply against the polished marble floor as she made her way to the reception desk, where a young woman with a bright smile was handling inquiries.

"Hi, I'm Violet Sinclair, the new hire in HR," Violet said, aiming for confidence in her voice.

The receptionist looked up, her smile widening. "Welcome, Ms. Sinclair! You're right on time. Head down that hallway, take a right to the elevators, and go up to the 44th floor. Mrs. Parker is expecting you."

Violet nodded in thanks, her nerves still humming as she followed the directions. The hospital's interior was a maze of corridors, each lined with medical posters, awards, and the occasional synthetic potted plant. As she ascended to the 44th floor, she tried to shake off the anxiety that threatened to creep in. This was what she'd worked for, and she needed to prove she belonged here.

Stepping out of the elevator, Violet paused to take in the picturesque view of Chicago spread out below her. She smoothed her skirt, checked her reflection in a nearby window, and took another deep breath. With a resolute nod to herself, she pushed open the glass door to the HR office.

The office was a small, bustling space filled with desks, filing cabinets, and bulletin boards cluttered with notices. A tall woman in her early fifties, with short graying hair and sharp, intelligent eyes, looked up from her computer. She stood and approached Violet with a warm, welcoming smile.

"You must be Violet," the woman said, extending her hand. "I'm Gloria Parker, your supervisor. It's nice to finally meet you."

Violet shook her hand, trying to mask her nerves. "Nice to meet you too, Ms. Parker."

"Please, call me Gloria," she replied, gesturing for Violet to follow. "Let me give you a quick tour and introduce you to the team."

As they walked through the office, Gloria pointed out the various sections—the payroll department, employee relations, benefits administration. The HR team was a mix of seasoned professionals and younger employees, many greeted Violet with warm smiles and welcoming nods.

"And here's your desk," Gloria said, stopping in front of a small, neatly, but bare workspace. "You'll have everything you need here. I'll be showing you the ropes over the next few days, but if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Gloria," Violet said as she placed her bag on the desk and took a seat. The reality of her new position started to sink in, and a wave of both excitement and anxiety washed over her.

Before she could dwell on it, Gloria continued, "I should also introduce you to Dr. Dominic Langston. He's the head of cardiothoracic surgery and one of the most important figures in the hospital. You'll be working closely with his department."

She had read about Dr. Langston in the hospital's newsletter—a brilliant surgeon known for his groundbreaking work and dedication to his patients. But nothing could have prepared her for the man who walked into the office at that moment.

Dominic Langston entered the room, his presence commanding attention. He was tall and dark-complexioned, with sharp features softened by a neat smile. His curly hair, peppered with gray, added to his distinguished appearance. He wore a crisp white lab coat over black scrubs, and as he extended his hand to Violet, she noticed the firm, confident grip.