WHEN SPARKS FLY

WHEN SPARKS FLY

Na'chi Yoon

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Will the class divide between two brilliant surgeons, Peter O'Connor and Tasha Williams, prevent them from pursuing a forbidden romance? Peter has worked hard to overcome his humble beginnings, while Tasha has been showered with everything money can buy. As they work together, Peter can't deny the sparks that fly between them, but he knows they are too different to make it work. However, when Tasha's world is turned upside down and she's forced to fight for the first time in her life, will Peter be there to catch her fall? Or will their differences tear them apart?

Chapter 1 I

As the late afternoon light filtered into the doctor's room, Phil Davis strode in, his footsteps echoing against the sterile white walls. "Have you heard yet who will be your next registrar?" he inquired, his voice ringing out into the quiet room.

Peter O'Connor, who had been lost in thought while reading a newspaper, looked up from the pages and replied, "No, I have been preoccupied with seeing private patients all day. Do you happen to know someone?"

Phil couldn't help but notice the look of relief that flashed across Peter's face. It was the expression that said, "I'm glad it's you and not me." Despite this, Phil decided to share the news he had received. "Professor Williams's daughter," he said with a smile, "I thought that might make your day."

Peter's face fell, and he put the newspaper down on the desk beside him. With a hint of skepticism in his voice, he asked, "Is it true that Daddy's little girl is attempting neurosurgery?" The slight curl of his lip suggested he had his doubts about the young woman's qualifications.

Phil poured himself a cup of steaming hot coffee, his eyes darting across the room to catch Peter O'Connor engrossed in the day's newspaper. "Seems like it," he replied to Peter's inquiry about the new registrar. Phil's tone was calm and composed, in stark contrast to Peter's disdainful attitude towards the topic at hand. "Peter, you ought to behave yourself better. Regardless of your personal feelings towards Professor Williams, it is your obligation to instruct his daughter as you would any other registrar under our training program," Phil admonished his colleague.

Peter stood up and flashed a self-assured smile at Phil. "Phil, you know me. I'll always act professionally," he responded, pushing in his chair. "It shouldn't be difficult. Like her pompous, overbearing father, I bet she's short, dumpy, and wears thick glasses," he added with a smirk.

Phil chuckled at Peter's jibe, but countered with a positive remark about the new registrar's mother. "She must follow in her mother's footsteps. I've heard she's pretty amazing," he stated with a speculative smile.

Peter rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Please, God, spare me from another female registrar who is more concerned with a person's appearance than their ability to learn," he griped. "Before Yeji Kim, that girl had no hope. For goodness sake, I saw her checking her reflection in a bedpan," he added with a shudder.

Phil couldn't help but tease his friend. "Don't tell me the notoriously easygoing Peter O'Connor is starting to get a little tough on his registrars. Or do you only have a problem with female registrars?" he joked.

Peter's expression turned icy cold as he glared at Phil. "Look, Phoebe Tatterton may have developed a ridiculous crush on me, but I couldn't help it. I didn't encourage it in any way. She followed me around like a puppy who wanted to be loved. It was humiliating," he grumbled.

Phil burst out laughing at Peter's predicament. "Mate, you need another reliable girlfriend. What happened with what's-her-name?" he inquired, trying to lighten the mood.

Peter grinned as he recalled his previous girlfriend. "Lee Hannah. She decided it was time to find a nine-to-five playmate," he replied, raising his nearly empty coffee cup to his mouth. "I believe she is currently seeing a teacher," he added with a shrug.

Phil nodded understandingly. "Oh well, you know how it goes-one door closes and another opens," he replied, attempting to offer some solace to his friend.

Peter refocused his attention on the newspaper headlines, lost in thought. "Go easy on the registrars, Peter," Phil advised into the brief silence. "They are still developing. You were alike. I certainly was."

Peter's tone turned somber as he replied, "Yeah, well, my learning experience wasn't the same, actually. To get to where I am now, I had to work hard. I detest it when these young people come to this classroom expecting to be praised for everything they do, even their mistakes, and to be fed by hand all the time. We are dealing with actual people, not computer simulations that can be restarted after being knocked off. I can't figure out why I can't get a dedicated worker to work with me instead of someone trying to prove something to her father."

Phil was taken aback by Peter's sharp words. "You think that's the subject of this?" he inquired.

Peter's hand worked through his dark hair as he pondered Phil's remark. "I don't know...probably," he said thoughtfully. "Michael Williams was always in my corner, but it turns out he was just a fraud. He would berate me in front of patients and nurses, call me out in tutorials, and even reject my thesis proposal. I think he was just waiting for the country bumpkin to slip up."

Phil nodded in agreement. "We all know what he was like around here. Thank goodness he's retired. Despite his technical expertise as a neurosurgeon, I couldn't stand working with him. But Peter, you can't judge the daughter based on her father's actions. She might be completely different."

Peter gave a snort of derision as he picked up his phone. "Let's just wait and see," he said, attaching the phone to his belt. "Are we still on for our cycle in the morning?"

Phil shook his head regretfully. "Sorry, mate. I promised Kate I'd get the kids ready for school so she could attend her aqua-aerobics class. But you can do an extra twenty kilometers for me."

Peter grinned and held the door open. "That's what I'll do," he said before heading out.

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