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Playing Doctor: A Standalone Office Romance

Page 22

by JD Hawkins


  “Well, I mean…”

  I take her hesitation as a minor victory and leap up from the couch to pace again.

  “It’s because she’s trying to get rid of me!” I say. “I know it sounds weird. But it would make perfect sense if she found out about me and Colin… But how would she have found out about me and Colin… He wouldn’t have told her…”

  “I need a drink,” Maeve says, leaning back on the couch and putting the back of her hand to her forehead like a silent movie actress.

  “Let me think…” I continue. “Maybe she has spies already… But nobody knows… Maybe Colin did tell her… In a fit of anger or something… No… Did I say anything? Did she see us at the beach that day?”

  “Don’t mind me,” Maeve says drolly as she gets up and moves to my kitchen. “I’m just going to commandeer the strongest alcohol you have.”

  I pace a little more, and just as she reappears with a bottle of amaretto in one hand and a glass in the other I point at her triumphantly.

  “The shirt! It was the shirt!”

  Maeve sips her drink slowly, only looking relieved to be drinking.

  “What shirt?”

  “The shirt. Colin’s shirt. I accidentally wore it this morning and she saw me in it. She even commented on it—in a kind of subtle, roundabout way—which wasn’t even that subtle or roundabout when I think about it. That’s how she knew about us.”

  “How would she even know it was Colin’s shirt?” Maeve scoffs.

  “It was an old one—he probably had it when they were together.”

  “Honey, if I can turn up to a party in the same dress as Rosie Watkins, you can believe there are people wearing the same shirt as some of my exes.”

  “It’s a men’s shirt though.”

  “Isn’t that on-trend anymore?”

  “Maeve…”

  “So let me get this straight—hold on a second,” she says, pouring another glass for herself, downing it, then pouring another. “You think that Colin’s ex-girlfriend—who is obsessed with him and wants to punish him for leaving her—took a job as the admin of your hospital just to fuck with him.”

  “Correct.”

  “And you also think that this woman saw you in Colin’s shirt this morning, recognized and remembered the shirt, immediately figured out that you had slept with him, then decided that the best way to get you out of the picture was to offer you a fantastic position at a prestigious hospital. Am I following?”

  Hearing it come from her in that sardonic tone does make me lose a little of my prior enthusiasm, but not enough to let go of my conviction.

  “She’s powerful,” I say, sounding a little more desperate now. “Connected. She can totally do that. And maybe it’s all a sham anyway. Maybe she wants me to resign to take the job and it turns out to be nothing more than an interview. I don’t know.”

  Maeve sighs. “I’ll be honest, babe. This sounds like something you should write in your journal and read back to yourself the next day.”

  “Is it really that impossible to imagine?”

  “Yes! You’re making Saskia sound like a Bond villain. Look, there’s an easy way to settle this. Just look their employment histories up online. See where they worked.”

  I look a little sheepish before saying, “I sort of already did that. Just with Colin. I couldn’t find much about him online. Just his graduation honors and some studies he’d consulted on for a hospital in Oregon. It’s like he doesn’t exist on the internet or something.”

  Maeve claps and points at me.

  “Well, there you go then.”

  “No, don’t you see,” I answer quickly. “It’s almost as if he deliberately scrubbed his online records so that he could really make a fresh start and break free of his prior hospital, his previous problems there—her.”

  “Right. Or maybe it’s to hide that he shot JFK?”

  I look at Maeve with serious impatience now. “I believe Colin about her.”

  “Did you believe him when he acted like he didn’t know you today?”

  It feels like a blow to the gut, and I can tell Maeve immediately regrets saying it.

  “Sorry…” she says, putting the drink down. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just think you need to calm down a little, that’s all. Look, I’ll stay over tonight.”

  I nod, immediately feeling a sense of relief at the idea.

  “We’ll get a pizza,” she says. “Watch something stupid. I’ll probably have to borrow some of your clothes—don’t build any conspiracy theories around it, though.” I laugh gently at her and she continues before I can protest my idea again. “You should probably call off work tomorrow as well. And the next day—you need a vacation like I needed this booze. We can forget the pregnancy test. Take it when you feel ready, okay? No rush. And anyway, it’s probably smarter to…”

  Maeve stops herself, looking at me with a little trepidation.

  “To what?” I say, urging her on.

  Maeve gestures in the air as if to lessen the idea as she says it. “To speak to Colin and clear some other stuff up before you… Before you find out. Just in case.”

  I nod, filling in the rest for myself.

  Just in case everything is about to change.

  21

  Colin

  I’m a new guy.

  I should probably be nervous. I should probably be anxious about the fact that everything is about to change. I should probably be worried about passing the point of no return.

  But the truth is: I haven’t felt this good in a long time. I haven’t felt this right in a long time. Today’s the day I’m gonna leave it all behind. Well, not everything.

  I park my car, grab my things, and step out into the sun. There’s a mother shouting at her kids not to wander around the hospital parking lot. One guy pushing another guy who looks just like him in a wheelchair through the doors. It looks like just another beautiful day at Santa Teresa, and for now at least, I’m the only person who realizes it isn’t.

  There’s a swagger in me that I haven’t felt in ages. The air filling my lungs, straightening my posture, my body relaxed but my senses alert. I smile back at the attention I get from the women in the lobby, and when they look away shyly it only makes me smile wider.

  “Morning, Jess, Alison, Paula.”

  “Morning, Doctor Pierce,” they all echo.

  “Here are your messages, Doctor Pierce.”

  “Thanks, Alison.”

  Paula glances up from her computer and smiles at me. “No gifts today?” she teases.

  I laugh and shrug, then put on a show of looking confused as I forage in the inside pocket of my coat.

  “I did find these down the back of the couch if you want them…” I say casually as I toss six tickets for a light show concert at the Hollywood Bowl on the reception desk.

  “Oh my God!” Jess says, immediately grabbing them as the others crowd over her shoulder.

  “Six?” Paula says.

  “Triple date,” I say. “Or just a hell of a girls’ night out.”

  “Which one of us gets to mark you as our plus one?” Paula winks.

  “Unfortunately I’m more a singer-songwriter fan,” I joke, tapping the desk as I move away. “By the way, is Saskia in?”

  “She’s in her office—but she’s very busy and said not to bother her,” Alison says.

  “Very good. And Doctor Taylor? I need to get something signed by her.”

  “Not in today,” Jess says, still staring at the tickets as if mesmerized by them. “Called out sick last night.”

  I hide how surprised I am.

  “Thanks… Listen,” I respond, “I might have to run off myself today. Could you have Bob take my ten-thirty, and ask Jackie to just leave the ward report on my desk?”

  “Of course, Doctor Pierce,” Alison says.

  “I’ll do the ward report myself if I need to,” Paula quips.

  I nod gratefully and then set off, past the locker room and directly t
o Saskia’s office.

  This is it, Colin. Time to slay the dragon. Or get burned alive.

  I knock on her door and almost instantly hear the aggravated response.

  “Not now!”

  I grab the handle anyway and push inside.

  I catch just a glimpse of that fearsome scowl, red lips opening to emit something venomous, before it softens into a pleased pout. Saskia shuts her laptop and sits back in her seat.

  “Colin,” she says, in a happy, purring, near-whisper. “What a nice surprise.”

  “Morning, Saskia,” I say, as if she were just a hospital administrator, my boss, instead of demon spawn.

  Earrings dangle from her ears, red stones set in them, glinting like warning signs. She’s wearing a long-sleeved, dark-blue top so tight it’s like a bodysuit. Revealing as much as it covers, the tone in her arms and the firmness of her breasts. Most women would feel self-conscious wearing something so tight, but for Saskia nakedness is just another weapon.

  I pull the letter from my pocket and place it on her desk like a revealed hand, then sit back down in the chair opposite. She looks at it with her cat eyes for a moment, then raises them to me.

  “Let me guess,” she says with a mild sneer. “You’re handing in your notice.”

  “That’s right,” I reply, unfazed. “Two weeks. I could have made it effective immediately, but I’d like to tie up any loose ends for the next pediatrician.”

  Saskia stares at me with nothing but mild amusement.

  “Oh Colin,” she says, as if to a child. “Colin. Colin…” She says my name as if relishing it sadly. “I thought it would be at least a month until you did the whole ‘else I quit’ ultimatum thing. It’s not like you don’t enjoy playing the brooding, tortured, isolated man. You like suffering, Colin. That’s why we’re such a good match.”

  “It’s not an ultimatum. I’m leaving in two weeks.”

  “Fine, fine,” she says with a smile. “You win. I’ll move you back into the nice office, let you choose your shifts, and ease up on the paperwork. You win, Colin. Is that what you want? I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll always give you whatever you want.”

  I let a moment pass and then repeat myself.

  “It’s not an ultimatum. I’m leaving.”

  “Colin,” she says again, rolling my name around her tongue. She stands up and steps around to the front of her desk, leaning her long legs in their tight black pants back against it. “Why don’t we just stop playing games? Just give me what I want.”

  “You already got what you want: revenge.”

  Saskia looks at me with horror. “You think that’s what I want?”

  I sigh, realizing this could go on all day, and push myself up out of the seat so she’s not towering over me.

  “You have my notice. I suppose that’s everything,” I say.

  “I want you, Colin. You…” She grunts incredulously as I turn and step for the door. “Where are you going? There are guys out there who would kill for a woman like me.”

  I turn back to face her.

  “So be with one of them.”

  “A woman who’s loyal, dedicated—”

  I cut her off impatiently. “Obsessive. Stubborn.”

  “—powerful, devoted—”

  “Cruel. Fanatical.”

  “—loving and caring.”

  “Clueless. Arrogant.”

  Her voice has been getting more tense and irritated with me talking over her until she explodes now in a growl of anger.

  “Aaaggh!”

  She stamps her booted heel onto the floor petulantly, hands turning into clenched fists at her side, her face tightened into a laser of anger directed at me.

  Through gritted teeth she says, “You make me so… Why can’t you just give me a chance?”

  I look at her like what she is—a sulking, spoiled child—and I’m barely able to muster up anger, irritation, or even disgust anymore. This woman, who’s built her life around punishing me, who has sacrificed everything for some petty sense of revenge, might as well be a stranger.

  “The funniest thing, Saskia…is that I gave you plenty,” I say calmly. “When things ended between us…or in the months afterwards…even after I left Dunhill…there were moments when I wondered. ‘Maybe she’s just hurt.’ ‘Maybe we could still work through this, try again under different rules’… And then…always…you’d do something else. Something mean. Something cruel. Something insane. And I’d realize once again, that at the end of the day, you are nothing more than an absolute, miserable bitch.”

  She steps forward, arm swinging to slap me in the face, but I see it coming a mile away—I expected nothing less. I raise my arm and her hand flails limply against my forearm, furthering her sense of impotence so that she just stands there with her angry face as I turn back to the door.

  “Where are you even going to go, Colin? What are you going to do? Just give up work and retire in your thirties? You think that’s some kind of victory? You’ll know every day that I’m the one who forced you to.”

  “Actually,” I say breezily, as if it were just an idle question across a bar, “I was thinking I might go private. Be my own boss, in charge of my own practice. Give myself a chance to do a little more community outreach.”

  Saskia laughs darkly through her frustration.

  “What? And you think I can’t touch you if you go private? That I can’t ruin you even more?”

  “I’m sure you’ll try, Saskia. I’m sure… But you know what else? I’ve been thinking also that it’s time for me to get out of the game. To find someone and settle down. Someone I can build something with.” I pause just to relish the boiling fury in her eyes a moment. “And maybe the weirdest thing is that… You know what I always used to say about kids: why would I have any when I get all the big moments as a pediatrician without any of the messy, difficult times in between? Well I’ve been thinking… Maybe those messy, difficult moments in between are what really matter.”

  Saskia’s still holding her fists at her side, still looking at me like she’s trying to burn me with her mind. I let her stew a moment, and then she turns back to the desk, grabs my letter of notice, and brings it back to me, holding it out as if it’s a gift.

  “Fine,” she announces firmly through tight lips. “You win. Take this back. I won’t do anything to you anymore. It’s over.”

  The words I’m about to say swell big and heavy inside of me. Big and heavy but still easy to lift. Weights that have burdened me for too long.

  “That’s right, Saskia—it is over. And you’re right about me winning, too. I finally get it. I could never run from you, because you love the chase. So instead I’m gonna invite you close. You can watch me build a whole new life. You can watch me get happy. In fact, I’m gonna make you the first person I invite to my wedding.”

  Saskia tilts her head back at this as if it were a blow.

  “Wedding?” she says, the word twisting with pain in her lips.

  “That’s right.”

  “To whom?”

  I relax and breathe for the first time in a long time, putting one of my hands on the door handle, ready to leave once I’ve said it.

  “To the only woman I’ve ever really loved. Who else?”

  I’ve got the phone already to my ear as I blast past the reception desk, giving a little wave to the girls to show I’m leaving. Paula gives me a thumbs-up and I continue on outside. It feels like there’s a bigger force carrying me now, muscles pumped with purpose, the universe compelling me toward something inevitable, something destined.

  But in the pit of my stomach there’s still something uneasy, something reminding me that this could all go wrong, that what feels like fate might just be my own hubris leading me to my downfall.

  The phone rings for a long time, but I expected that. It rings all the way to my car, and I stop there, leaning on the roof as I pray for her to pick up.

  “Hello.”

  The voice isn’t hers, and f
or a moment I feel that pit in my stomach flare up a little.

  “Hello? Is this—”

  “This is Mia’s number. Colin, right?”

  “Yeah…” I say, sounding confused.

  The voice on the other end sounds naturally confident, a little sassy. The huskiness of a woman who rarely raises her voice, a sexual deepness in it. She sounds a little stressed—and it’s obvious she’s not used to sounding like that. I hear her sigh on the end of the line, and turn up the volume when it seems like there’s a sound in the background.

  “I’m Maeve, Mia’s friend.”

  “I need to speak with her. It’s important,” I plead.

  “Colin, listen, she needs a little time—”

  “I’ve really got to speak with her,” I repeat.

  Maeve doesn’t speak, and I hear the rustling of her hand going over the phone.

  “She says that she needs to speak with you too… But she just wants to pull herself together a bit first,” Maeve says when she comes back. “She can call you back later—”

  She sounds nice. Nothing less than a friend looking out for Mia. But that pit in my stomach won’t let this slip away, and I’ve waited a lifetime already.

  “No. Not over the phone,” I say assertively. “We need to talk in person. Me and Mia. Alone.”

  “Colin—”

  “Tell her I’ll be at the shack by the beach. I’ll wait there all day if I have to, but I’ll be there in twenty minutes. And I need to talk to her. To tell her that… Just tell her I’ll be waiting.”

  Maeve sighs once more into the receiver, and I can tell she feels like she’s being pulled between protecting Mia and giving in to the sincerity in my request.

  “You know,” she says, “when I first saw you, I thought you were a simple pump and dumper. I had no idea things would end up this crazy.” Suddenly I recognize her as the blonde bombshell Mia was with when she wore the red dress. Before I can say anything, she continues, “I’ll tell her you’ll be there. Okay? Don’t worry. But as for whether she decides to show… I don’t know.”

 

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