"El jefe?" I ask the doctor. I've heard the term but have no idea what it means.
"Forgive me twice. El jefe means 'the boss or chief.' He takes care of his people and from what I've seen, you are now one of his people. Value his loyalty; he is a man with many faces." His hands move to my shoulder and he begins rotating the joint. Another slight wince escapes me.
"No change?"
"It only hurts when I move it or someone tries to twist it off," I reply deadpan.
A twinkle replaces the solemn look in his dark eyes. "Then I would say don't move it and don't allow anyone to twist it off."
"Your bedside manner is flawless, Dr. Santos."
He grins and then looks away. When he turns back, his cheeks are tinged red. "I do not have these conversations, because my patients are children." He clears his
