The bartender places the two flutes of golden liquid in front of us and Valerie grabs them, handing one over to me.
“To your new job!” She says, raising her glass. We clink glasses and I take a sip, enjoying the explosion of bubbles on my tongue.
“How are your coworkers?” Val asks, turning towards me. “You’re dying to tell me something, I can tell. What is it - a hot doctor?!”
Valerie’s laugh rings out in the bar. Her boyfriend - fiance - is a hot doctor, as she says. We’ve been joking about finding me one of them for months. For some reason I don’t want to tell her about Elliot Davis. What would I say? That I made a fool of myself trying to make coffee? That he just looked at me, probably judging me the whole time, saying nothing? That’s he’s unimaginably rude, but I couldn’t help feeling turned on just standing beside him?
“It’s nothing,” I smile. “Everyone was really friendly! Dave took me around and introduced me to everyone.” She’s watching me and finally I crack a smile. “There was this one moment…” I pause.
Val’s eyes widen and she leans forward. “Yes?? And??”
“Oh, nothing,” I laugh, suddenly embarrassed. Val’s eyebrow shoots up towards her hairline. “I just... Oh my God, Val. Typical me. I made a fool of myself, I didn’t know how to use the coffee machine. I sprayed steam over the whole kitchen. Seriously, Val, everywhere. It was whistling and spraying out over the counter and cupboards and all over me. There was this doctor in the kitchen. He just stared at me, turned it off and then walked away.”
I look over at Val and I can see the smile playing in her eyes. She’s trying not to laugh. The edges of my lips twitch upwards and for the first time today I crack. My laughter bubbles up from the pit of my stomach and erupts together with hers. The two of us lean on each other and I laugh until my sides hurt.
I wipe a tear away from my eye and look over at my best friend. I’ve been feeling so unsure of myself all day and it’s not like me. She’s always able to bring me back to centre. Suddenly things don’t seems so bad. I’ll be able to make some money, get out of this tight spot I’m in. No jerk doctor or embarrassing first day can overshadow that fact.
Plus, isn’t it better to make a splash of a first impression? I’ve never been a wallflower, so I should just own it.
We finish our drinks and head off in different directions. My steps are light, my heart is singing. Things are finally starting to look up. I’ll go in early to work tomorrow and start working on the filing system, see if I can actually make a difference in the office. Now I have a project, a direction, and a plan. Nothing can stop me.
Chapter 3 - Elliot
I wake up early, before my alarm. That’s good, I think to myself. That means I can get to work early and be in and out of the kitchen before anyone else gets there. Before she gets there.
My thoughts drift back to yesterday morning. I must have looked like an ass. Usually I don’t mind if people think I’m a jerk but I actually wanted her to like me. All I could do was stare at her. From the moment I turned the corner into the kitchen all I could see were those curves. Lucious, beautiful curves, perfectly moulded into her tight pencil skirt.
I lay back in bed, stretching my arms overhead as I wake up. The imagine of the new girl, spraying steam all over the kitchen. She’d screamed, her red painted lips forming a small ‘o’ on her face. My cock twitches at the thought, just like it did yesterday standing next to her in the kitchen. I had to turn around and leave when she looked at me with those deep brown eyes. The steam had splatterd onto her white blouse and it was too much. I haven’t felt my cock jump to attention like that since…. No. I can’t think of the past right now. I’m not going to go down that road.
I’m a professional. Not only that, I’m a father. I have responsibilities. Dating, relationships, all that stuff. It’s not for me. It can’t be for me. I have to take care of Gracie, I have to be there for her and be a strong role model.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and rub my eyes. I’ll have just enough time to drop Gracie off at school and then head over to the office, hopefully before anyone else is there.
By the time I’m out of the shower and dressed, Gracie is up and eating some cereal in the kitchen.
“Since when do you make your own breakfast?” I tease her, ruffling her fiery red hair. She rolls her eyes in an exaggerated motion.
“I’m almost eleven years old, Dad! I can make my own breakfast!”
“You’re growing up too fast.” I try to hide the tightening in my throat. She’s such a bright kid, she’s so smart. My heart fills with love when I look over the kitchen table at her. She munches on her cereal and then sticks out her tongue at me. I chuckle and turn around to fix my own breakfast.
“You look different this morning, Dad.”
“Since when do you call me Dad! What happened to Daddy?” I retort.
“Well, DAD,” Gracie throws back, emphasizing the offending word. “Like I said, I’m almost eleven years old! And don’t try to change the subject. You look different.”
She’s way too sharp. “I don’t think I look different! What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, like… brighter. Like there’s a spring in your step.” Gracie narrows her eyes at me.
“You have a girlfriend!” she exclaims excitedly.
“What! No! Where did you get that idea?! How do you even know about that stuff anyways.”
Gracie studies my face. She gets up off her chair and comes towards me, sticking her face inches from mine. She stitches her eyebrows together and stares at me, completely serious. I can see the speckles of brown in her blue eyes when they’re this close to me. I try to keep my face steady, but my lips start twitching upwards.
“I can just tell.” Gracie pronounces, lifting her chin and turning on her heels. I can’t help but laugh. “Something has changed.”
I watch her get back in her seat and continue eating her cereal. A spring in my step!
“Dad, it’s not a bad thing, you know. You should get a girlfriend. One day I’ll have a boyfriend too.”
“One day, hey? Anything you want to tell me?” I raise my eyebrows expectantly, lips curled up into a smile. She scrunches her nose at me.
“Anything YOU want to tell ME?!” she retorts.
“Ok, ok, Gracie. Put your dishes away, let’s go now. It’s time to leave for school.” I say to change the subject. I’m not enjoying this inquisition.
We head out the door and Gracie’s words ring in my ears. Something’s changed in me? I shake my head. She’s always had an overactive imagination.
Chapter 4 - Emma
I get to work a bit early, determined to make sense of this filing system. When I went through it yesterday, I noticed there were files from ten years ago right beside files from this year! Nothing is organised alphabetically. The clinic doesn’t seem to have any sort of organisation. My accountant brain is in overdrive. I wonder how they’ve managed to do their tax returns at all.
The receptionist before me had worked at the clinic since it opened. She was about eighty years old when she retired, and it looked like she still didn’t believe in the advent of technology. It’ll be a big job to digitise everything, but I think if I can come up with a better system, I can make myself indispensable to the clinic and make sure they see my value. Job security would be exactly what I need right now.
I practically run up the subway steps towards the clinic. My brain is buzzing, ready to throw myself into a project. When I get to the door, everything is dark. I pull out the set of keys that were issued to me yesterday, and punch in the key code that I wrote down.
I flick on the lights and drop my purse on my desk. I’ve brought my own coffee today, not wanting to repeat the embarrassment from yesterday. I sit down and crack my knuckles together. I look at the wall of files behind me and take a deep breath. Which way should I attack this? I pull down one of the stacks of files from the corner of the top shelf. I guess that’s as good a plac
e as any.
The files are soon scattered on my desk, sorted into chronological piles. Each year is then arranged alphabetically by patient. It’ll look worse before it gets better, I remind myself. I can’t figure out what kind of system they had before at all. It’s an absolute mess.
This is what I’m good at. I’m detail-oriented, project based, driven. I like accomplishing things. I’m enjoying this quiet time this morning, sipping my hot coffee as I sort through piles of paperwork. My red lipstick is leaving a faint impression of my lips on my paper cup. I don’t worry about it, keeping my focus on the stacks of paper in front of me. Before I know it, the early morning hour has slipped by and I hear the bell on the front door jingle as it swings open.
“Oh, hi Elliot. I mean, Doctor Davis! Good morning!” I try to sound casual and friendly but it sounds almost forced. I cringe internally. I’m never like this!
He looks at me with fire burning in his eyes. He looks mad. Furious, even. Why would he be mad?! All I did was say hello! A hot tendril of anger and outrage starts snaking up my spine.
“Morning.”
He’s gruff, barely grunting the word out. His dark eyes glance down at the tiled floor and he rushes past me, towards his office. I stare after him, incredulous.
“Well that was rude,” I say under my breath. I hear his office door click shut and I feel like the room has gotten colder. My buzz, my energy, has been sapped. The breath has been taken out of my lungs. He’s so cold! And so rude! There’s no need to be that way at all. I wonder how he even manages to get patients to trust him with that bedside manner.
The excitement I felt when I saw him walk in has turned to bitterness. My palms are suddenly sweaty, and I tell myself it’s because I’m outraged at his rudeness. It’s definitely not the way his eyes burned when he looked me up and down.
I look at the piles of paper on my desk and start stacking them together. I was able to get through about five percent of the wall of files behind me. At least it’ll give me something to do, and keep me from dwelling on things like Dr. Davis, or on worse things, like the reason I need to make a good impression in the first place.
Chapter 5 - Elliot
She’s here. I sit down in my chair and let out a sigh. The entire reason I came in early was to avoid her. I feel the frustration building inside me. Why would she be here! There’s no need for her to be here this early, especially not on her second day! I walked in and she looked up at me, up from the piles of paper on her desk. I wanted to ask her what she was doing but then my eyes drifted down to that fitted blue dress she’s wearing and I had to look away.
Why does she have to be so friendly! Her voice is as smooth as honey, and the sound of it sent a shock straight down to my cock. They way her eyes flicked over me, questioning me, waiting. I sigh. I need to get a grip.
Can’t she just ignore me like I’m trying to ignore her?! Doesn’t she see that no one else talks to me? It’s a carefully cultivated distance that took years of practice.
I still have a bulge in my pants and I saw her for all of ten seconds. When I walked by I caught a scent of her perfume, it was sweet but not sickly. More of a fresh sweetness. Womanly. I’d love to bury my head in her curls and just drink her smell, breathe into her skin and taste her.
Stop.
This is ridiculous. This isn’t me.
Maybe Gracie was right, something has changed. I haven’t felt this kind of electric energy inside me since…
But I’m at work, and she’s a co-worker. It’s completely, entirely inappropriate. Off-limits. It’s wrong.
Plus, I promised myself I wouldn’t see anyone until Gracie was older. It’s not fair to her to have a string of women in her life. She has been, and always will be my top priority. Not that I’ve wanted to see anyone. The only reason I haven’t felt dead inside is seeing that little red head every morning and every night, and hearing her beautiful little laugh pulling me out of the darkness.
The years after her mother died were the worst times of my life, but Gracie’s laugh and her heart and her mind pulled me back to reality. I can’t let her down, not after everything she’s been through. I haven’t even told anyone at work about her. Well, no one except Stuart Yates. It was my way of protecting her, of keeping this part of my life separate from that one. She’s too precious, too important to me.
I lean back in my chair and turn on my computer to check today’s schedule. I need to focus, to stop thinking like this. I run my hand over my crotch and feel my cock twitch towards the movement. Emma’s blue dress was fitted and tight but not revealing. Her breasts stretched the fabric at the front and all I wanted to do was feel the curve of her waist to her hip. I shiver, thinking of what she must taste like. Not once in the past seven years have I felt like this, have I had this sort of reaction to another woman.
Another woman.
It’s wrong. I feel a deep sense of betrayal and shame bubbling up in my stomach. I closed the door on these feelings and on my own happiness a long time ago. Gracie is the priority. She’s the only one that matters. My own carnal urges should not, and will not, dictate my actions.
My computer screen lights up and I type in my employee login. I check my calendar. Full day of appointments and a staff meeting first thing this morning. I sigh. At least I’ll be busy. Anything to keep my head from drifting back to that curly mess of brown hair or those full curves, or those lips. Red lips that I can’t stop looking at every time she’s near me. I wonder what they would look like wrapped around my -
I catch myself, and take a deep breath.
I put my head down and wait for the staff meeting. After that I can lock myself in my office and try to forget she exists.
Chapter 6 - Emma
“Good morning Doctor Yates! How are you this morning?” I call out to the practice’s owner as he walks in. He glances up at me from underneath his full head of grey hair.
“Morning Emma,” he croons. His eyes flick over my desk, over the piles of paperwork I’m in the midst of organising. “What have you got there?”
“I noticed the files were all out of order, so I’m just trying to organise them. I’m doing it alphabetically and chronologically,” I say to him, pointing at my piles of papers. “It’ll make it a lot easier for recordkeeping.”
Is it just me or did his eyes just narrow a little bit? They look colder, harder than they did a second ago. Then just as quickly the moment passes and the darkness dissipates from his eyes. His face relaxes ever so slightly and he speaks to me in a smooth, deep voice.
“That’s great, Emma. I always like to see a bit of initiative.”
He shuffles past me and down the hallway, the same hallway Doctor Davis walked down an hour ago. I glance down and see his door is still closed. Maybe I should bring him a coffee as a peace offering?
The thought of walking up to his door makes my heart beat a little bit faster. I look at the stacks of files in front of me, knowing I’ll be doing this for days. Screw it, I think. I might as well try to get along with him. All going well I’ll be in this job for a long time.
I spin around and head towards the kitchen. I walk through the doorway and there it is: my nemesis. The coffee machine.
Well, Emma Thompson doesn’t get beat down easily, especially not by something like a tricky little coffee maker. In two steps I’m standing in front of it. I grab a mug from the cupboard and throw my shoulders back. I feel my lips set themselves in a thin, hard line. I will make a coffee without spraying steam or coffee grounds or milk all over the kitchen, and that’s a fact. Just watch me.
The mug goes under the spout. I take my hand and bring it up over the machine, bringing it down with a hard smack.
Like magic, the little door at the front pops open.
“Ha! Yes,” I exclaim to myself, triumphant. In goes the pod, and I close up the door. One more button and the black liquid is pouring into the mug underneath. I put my hands on my hips and look at my handiwork feeling a dee
p sense of satisfaction. Redemption always feels good.
The coffee cup is just about full, and the machine is sputtering the last few drops when I hear him behind me.
“You’re a quick learner.”
I spin around and it feels like the whole room turns sideways. There he is, standing in the doorway again. His eyes are burning a hole into me, raking over my body as I stand there. I throw my shoulders back and raise an eyebrow.
“This is just the start of it,” I say, letting my lips curl up into a grin. “First step: the coffee machine, second step: the printer, then I’m going straight to the top. Nothing can stop me now. I’m telling you now, you’d better watch your job.”
I turn around and grab the mug, holding it up victoriously. Is that a smile in his eyes? Dr. Davis’ face is still as stone but I swear I can see a hint of amusement.
“Well, colour me impressed,” he growls.
I extend the mug to him. “I actually made it for you. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot and this is my way of extending an olive branch, so to speak. This time without steam spraying all over you.”
The mug hangs in the air between us, and Dr. Davis looks at it quizzically. Two, three, four, five seconds go by without either of us moving. I’m starting to wonder if this was a good idea. His eyes glance up from the mug and search my face. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and then spreading through my entire body. Why does he have to look at me like that! Finally I crack and speak first.
“How do you take it? Milk? Sugar?”
The spell is broken and he moves towards me. His hand reaches up and grabs the mug.
“Black.”
“Me too!” Why did I sound so excited?!
He nods clears his throat. “Thanks.”
Doctor D Page 2