Chapter 7 — Jo Wilson
The first time I met Jo Wilson was chaos.
Marcus had burned his arm in a garage accident.
We rushed him to Grey Sloan.
Jo stitched the burn carefully.
Then she looked up at me.
"You're hovering."
"I'm concerned."
"You're in my personal space."
"I'm protective."
She sighed.
"Are you always like this?"
"Calm under pressure?"
"No," she said dryly.
"Annoyingly charming."
I smiled.
"Only when necessary."
She rolled her eyes.
But I caught the hint of a smile.