“Come on, Harper, let’s get out of here.” Dan laced his hand through hers and tugged her toward the door.
“Oh, how hilarious, she didn’t know. Guess I gave the whiny bitch something else to complain about.” Jeff’s voice was lowered and directed to Travis, but it caught right in that rare pause between songs and conversation, where a single noise becomes a room’s focus.
Harper’s body tensed as Jeff’s words slapped her skin.
Bitch.
It ricocheted across the room, splattering against the walls and dripping into puddles on the floor. It made her feel so small, like her body was folding in on itself.
A tense silence descended, fracturing through the party like a spider web of cracked glass.
And that silence, that pretense of surprise, hurt Harper even further. It wasn’t like the sentiment behind Jeff’s comment was shocking or new, it was just more direct than the constant stream of sexism that flowed through medicine.
It was present in the way advisors looked surprised when she said she wanted to do surgery, asked her when she’d find time to have a family. Evident in the way men spoke over her, ignored her. Grossly obvious in the way older attendings told her being cute helped with interviews, winking like it was some sort of inside joke, eclipsing her hard work with the fact that she was a woman. All of it thrown around so casually and subtly, it left her wondering if she even had a right to be offended, or if she was just being “too sensitive,” as women were also frequently accused of. She turned slowly, hating how her stomach swooped and skin prickled with embarrassment—silent, evil questions of her worth trying to snake into her brain—hating the tears pricking at her eyes as she forced hers to meet Jeff’s.
“I imagine it must be difficult to have masculinity so fragile you feel the need to take cheap shots at me whenever you can. Does it keep you up at night?”
Jeff let out a nervous laugh, looking around at the room. “Oh, come on, it was a joke! Obviously, it was a joke. Everyone’s so sensitive anymore.”
“I don’t hear anyone laughing,” Harper said, locking eyes with Jeff’s, refusing to let him look away.
Harper stared at the human trash can for a moment longer, watching him squirm, before she turned back to Dan. Tension radiated from his body, his narrowed, violent gaze focused on Jeff. Harper tugged at Dan’s hand, taking a step toward the door. He slipped his hand from her grasp.
With sharp strides, he moved to stand in front of Jeff, looking down on the smaller man. The room was frozen, all eyes locked on the confrontation. Jeff shrank under Dan’s gaze, beads of sweat forming on his upper lip. A muscle ticked in Dan’s jaw, but he was otherwise still. Harper realized she was holding her breath, once again unable to get air into her lungs.
Jeff swallowed audibly. “Listen, I didn’t mean any—”
Dan’s hands shot out, fisting in Jeff’s suit jacket and smashing his back against the wall.
“No, you listen, you piece of rat shit. If it makes you and your brother’s dick hard to make fun of me, be my guest. I don’t give a shit.” Dan’s voice was filled with controlled hate, and Travis slinked a few steps back, disappearing into the crowd.
“But you better keep Harper’s name out of your filthy fucking mouth or I will personally come to your house and feed your blond head up your asshole and make you tell me how it tastes. Does that sound fun to you?”
Jeff stared at him in trembling silence. Dan gave him a rough shake and Jeff’s head bounced against the wall.
“I asked you a question. Or are you too stupid to answer me?”
“N-no,” Jeff stuttered out.
“No, what?” Dan moved his face a centimeter from Jeff’s.
“No, that doesn’t sound fun.” Jeff’s voice cracked.
Dan stared at Jeff a moment longer, the chords of his neck taut and thick. Harper couldn’t think, couldn’t act. All she could do was watch.
“Leave. Her. Alone. Clear?”
Jeff nodded and Dan dropped him. Jeff crumpled, but Dan caught him by the neck of his coat and pulled him to standing, brushing at Jeff’s shoulders and straightening his wrinkled jacket.
Jeff relaxed a fraction as hushed murmurs filled the room. Harper sucked in a breath and looked down at her shaking hands. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding them in tight fists, red crescents marking her palms where her nails had dug into her flesh.
“Now, I would suggest that you flex your stomach,” Dan said calmly. Harper’s gaze shot back to them.