The ladies of MetroGen each have a Valentine’s Day story to tell, and they’re together for one insane drunk brunch.

You won’t be able to resist the hospital sex whammy . . . .

Kayla’s hospital sex whammy . . .

Resident and fellow mixers were the most boring experience on the planet. Kayla picked a stool at the open bar and ordered a tequila sunrise. Everyone got dressed up, drunk, and then made the worst possible romantic decisions.

Which is why she’d propped her evening gowned butt with her sparkly high heels on this bar stool to watch the show.

She sipped her drink and scanned the ongoing meat market for new residents on the prowl for a special someone.

No good would come out of these relationships ninety-eight percent of the time, especially for the interns. There were over a hundred internal medicine residents and forty fellows. Dr. Fisher, the IM chief, hopefully was up to refereeing when their little broken hearts spilled onto the hospital floor.

Best to avoid it completely. In an hour she’d head home and watch either Doctor Who or Star Trek TNG on DVD. She had enough episodes to keep her busy for the entire year it would take these newbies to learn to NOT date in the hospital.

She could be happy, single, and kid free—well, not exactly kid-free if she had Eliza’s kids to help with, but close enough. The youngest sadly had graduated out of the cute baby stage and was now a talkative preschooler.

Stella stopped by to order a glass of water, in full on wildlife safari mode, with her hair dyed a bright temporary red. “I bet the dark-haired pathology guy is an axe murderer. Is he going to eat the peds resident he’s hitting on?”

Kayla checked the indicated direction. “I’d consider hematology more of the soylent green type. Or surgery.”

“Soylent green?” Stella asked, confused by her seeming non sequitur. “Is that a movie or a band?”

“Spoilers for a fifty-year-old movie—Soylent Green is people.” Kayla finished her drink and debated the wisdom of another. She leaned toward being a lightweight, so holding off might be a good idea.

“Is it a type of people?” Stella asked.

“No, it’s short for soy-lentil food, but it’s actually made of people. Like in every sci-fi-fantasy horror movie. The secret ingredient is always people, never sustainable environmentally conscious organic farming. Unless they’re using people as fertilizer.”

“Definitely my next pickup line. Though I think pathology guy is trying it out right now.” Stella drank more water.

The peds resident, equally disgusted, escaped, and path guy joined his other morgue buddies again.

Eliza popped by and ordered wine for herself and Kayla. She’d been circulating with the hope of adding another woman to their social circle. “Once again, no cool new lady attendings or fellows to join our motley crew. While some of the residents have potential, it’s a little too conflict of interest for me, especially the surgery ones. Though some of the ladies are crazy horny. Already saw one make their first kill.”

“Which one?” Stella searched the crowd.

“One of my fourth-year ladies snagged one of the new endocrine guys. And I saw ortho’s Jon Navarro flirting with the only male OB intern. Celebrate these bad romantic decisions. Bottoms up.”

The three of them clinked their glasses and chugged the liquid. Kayla had never been one for bad romantic decisions. However, Eliza’s husband Scott had died last summer, so if Eliza decided it was drinking time, it was drinking time.

“Good job, residents. Or maybe it’s newbies who want to be caught. Another round please,” Eliza cheered.

“Salud.” Stella toasted and downed her glass of water. “Keep ’em coming barkeep.”