Heart Doctor

by Melissa Silvey

  We stare at each other quietly for several moments. I want to stay. God, how I want to stay. But I can’t. I know in my heart that going to California is the right thing to do. I know that we’ll never last. I know if I don’t go now, I’ll never finish medical school. I’ll never become a doctor. I’ll become the first Mrs. Alexander Astor, not Dr. Olivia Bell.

  “Lex,” I begin. I would give anything to be able to explain it all to him, so that he would understand.

  “Just go, Olivia.” I stand and stare at him, willing him to understand what I’m feeling. “Go!” he screams.

  This is why I have to leave. This. It will never work. I open the door, and run toward my future. The future that I control. The future where I become what I’ve wanted since I was a child. My future. Mine!

  May 19. 2016

  I can’t believe I allowed Ella to schedule appointments for today. I should have taken the day off. Hell, I should have taken the week off. I had one too many glasses of wine last night, but it didn’t help. I cried all night. There’s not enough make-up in the world to cover the bags under my eyes.

  Fifteen years ago today I walked out on the love of my life. Because his mom convinced me that he would never love me the way I love him. And guess who is the first appointment on my calendar. Good ol’ Mrs. Astor herself. I should give her a piece of my mind, finally. I should tell her to go fuck herself, her and her five million dollars.

  I order my coffee, and just as I think I’m about to avoid any messy scenes, I turn around to find Evander White behind me. I give him a wry smile, and murmur, “Excuse me.”

  “Dr. Bell, I am actually here to see you today. If you wouldn’t mind, I’ll follow you up to your office.” His smooth tone belies the severe look in his eyes, and the worried crease over the bridge of his nose.

  “You’re here in an official capacity, I take it.” As if this day wasn’t already shitty enough, now I have to worry about a visit from the legal team, who I’ve slept with and dumped. Fucking great.

  “You are correct, Dr. Bell.” He extends his hand, and I walk around him toward the elevators. Since we are not alone, he doesn’t continue.

  But as soon as we’re standing outside my office door, as I am unlocking it, I ask, “What is this about? A patient?”

  When I open the door, I find the lights are already on. Ella is already in the office. I look toward the glass divider, and find her actually at her desk. I guess Ryan is too busy to gossip this morning.

  “The family member of a patient has approached Mr. Walsh, the CEO of the hospital, with certain concerns. He believes you are running unnecessary tests, to charge a higher than necessary rate from the patient, who is very wealthy.” He isn’t nearly as good looking when he’s all serious.

  I open my mouth to make a smart assed comment about being the best cardiologist at the hospital, and how the patient will never find a better doctor in the city. Then, I quickly put two and two together. “Alexander Astor.”

  He nods his bald head slightly. “He would like you to step down, and inform Mrs. Astor that you will no longer be her doctor.”

  I think about it for several moments. This is exactly the out I need. I mean, if I explain to Mrs. Astor that her son has spoken to my boss, who has called the legal department, certainly that will be a good enough excuse to not have to ever see her again, patient or otherwise.

  “I will be more than happy to inform the patient when I see her later. Hopefully she’ll realize with her son pressuring my boss, I have no other choice but to send her back to her…”

  “I do so hope you aren’t talking about my son.” I would know that unhappy, cold, disapproving voice anywhere.

  I bite my lip, and glance up at Evander. Why didn’t he warn me Mrs. Astor was standing right behind me?

  “Mrs. Astor? I’m Evander White, with Masterson and…” He begins, in his smooth as silk deep voice.

  “I don’t particularly care which law offices you are with, young man.” Evander suddenly looks very sheepish. I know how it feels to be dressed down by Mrs. Astor. It’s not fun. “I will personally speak with my good friend Michael Walsh, and I will straighten this out myself. My son has gone a step too far this time.”

  She’s looking down her nose at him, even though he stands almost a foot taller than her. His response is a hurried, “Yes, ma’am,” before he walks quickly to the exit. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Astor,” he says, before he leaves the office.

  She turns to me with a conspiratorial smile on her face. She sighs contentedly, and exclaims, “Ah, nothing feels better than telling off a lawyer.”

  As if this fucking day couldn’t get any worse. She thinks we’re BFFs. She thinks we’re going to head back to my office and have a hearty laugh at Evander’s expense. She thinks today is the day to test me. She’s wrong.

  “Mrs. Astor, I happen to agree with Mr. White. He is correct. Seeing you as a…”

  “Are you still seeing Mr. White socially?” she asks, as she stares at me with her hard gray eyes.

  How does she even know I was seeing him? We slept together once, twice maybe. Did her son tell her? “Mrs. Astor, I don’t think my private life is any of your business…”

  She interrupts me. “Alexander has ended his engagement. When I heard, I thought that maybe the two of you…” She becomes quiet, and stares at me expectantly.

  I return her gaze, but I hope that mine is all business. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Mrs. Astor.”

  “He’s returned to New York.” She sounds upset, and just a little desperate.

  Oh, my God! She is trying to get us back together! “Mrs. Astor, I don’t think…”

  “I’ll double the money from the gala last week from my own personal account, if you will go to New York and speak with him. I feel certain that if the two of you talk, that you can work out the differences you’re currently having.” That is in fact desperation in her voice. I say nothing. I’m too stunned. “I heard from the manager of Alexander’s building that his fiancée caught him with a gorgeous blonde Saturday night. Now, if I’m correct, I believe that blonde was you. When I came here on Monday, I felt very hopeful that the two of you had finally made up. But then you said you were seeing Portland. I mean, he’s a very nice young man, Liv, but you can be honest with me. You are still in love with my son, aren’t you?”

  She’s standing there in her haute couture suit, in my office… In the office that she helped me achieve. I take a step back, and cover my mouth because my jaw is hanging wide open. She didn’t help me achieve anything. She manipulated me into accepting an offer that I thought I couldn’t refuse at the time. Now, she thinks she can manipulate me again, with the offer of a large donation for a charity I am fond of.

  I have had enough of her, her son, and her money. “What did it, Mrs. Astor? What made you decide that the poor orphan was finally good enough for the prince of Astor? Was it the latest gold digger, who is half his age? Was it the thought of a half-naked starlet raising your grandchildren? Or the thought that he wouldn’t have children at all, and your precious Astor lineage might end with him?”

  Her gray eyes grow wide when she hears my tone. I’ve dressed down Mrs. Astor, and it feels good. She takes a moment to find her tongue, and when she does, she sounds like a shocked southern lady, not the cold as ice bitch I know her to be. “I just want what’s best for my son, Liv.”

  “My name is not Liv. You can call me Dr. Olivia Bell,” I correct her. She is again stunned. “What caused you to lower your standards, and decide that the girl who wasn’t fit for your family is now somehow acceptable?”

  “I was wrong fifteen years ago, Dr. Bell. I was a fool. I realize that now. I had hoped to correct my mistake.” She really does sound sorry.

  Too bad. I’m not in the mood for apologies. “Maybe you weren’t wrong. Maybe what you did fifteen years ago was the best thing that could ever have happened to me. Because the thought of being trapped in a marriage to your son, having to be in your family,
makes my skin crawl. To think that you could have been my mother-in-law, that you might have been the grandmother to my children, is the worst hell imaginable. I would like to thank you, Mrs. Astor, for what you did for me fifteen years ago. You really helped me dodge a bullet. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go call Frederick, Duke of Portland, and tell him that I would love to see him for lunch. Maybe I’ll take him to my apartment afterward, and fuck his brains out to celebrate the fact that I am not married to your son!”

  The great Vivienne Astor has been silenced. Her face is pale, and her eyes are wide. She says nothing, for there is nothing to say after that embarrassing display, and leaves the office as quietly as she entered.

  After a moment of reflection, I turn toward my office to find Ella staring at me through the open divider. She’s almost as stunned as Mrs. Astor was. At least she’s not giving me some sarcastic comment.

  “You can cancel my appointment with Mrs. Astor. All of them,” I say, before I walk to my office. Fuck everyone today. And especially anyone named Astor. Fuck ‘em all!

  Chapter Twelve

  May 21, 2016

  “This is fucking ridiculous! This is the most sexist, degrading thing I have ever experienced!” I exclaim loudly, with Dr. Mariana so close I know she can hear me.

  “It can’t be considered sexist if the male doctors are doing it too,” she retorts.

  I glance over her shoulder, and see Dr. Montgomery lingering nervously. He looks like he might bolt. I can’t say I blame him. I think I might even join him.

  I did not call Freddie after the tantrum I threw on Thursday. I left the hospital in my blue Corvette with the top down, certain that I would open two bottles of wine and get drunk enough to sleep, then head back to work on Friday. But that’s not what happened. Instead, I headed out to a bar for happy hour, and just about picked up a hot Italian guy who claimed he was in town for a conference. At the last moment I changed my mind. I ended up driving to the hotel where I had sex with Alexander, and sitting in the parking lot for nearly an hour.

  I received a call from Freddie, at about seven o’clock. I sent it to voicemail. When I listened to the message, I felt terrible. He was charming, and sweet, and wanted to ask me to dinner before he returned to England. I didn’t call him back. It’s probably best if we don’t see each other again. I’m a shitty person, and Freddie deserves so much better than me.

  Last night, I did indeed have enough wine to knock out a normal female. But it did nothing for me. It didn’t wipe out the memories of Alexander. It just made them worse. I ended up calling Mira and crying for two hours. By the time the call ended, she was crying too, about her fertility issues. I don’t know if either of us made the other feel better, or worse.

  Freddie called again, to tell me that his plane was scheduled to depart DC at ten o’clock this morning. He wanted to see me before he left. I didn’t call. Again. I try really hard not to regret it.

  The bad thing about that is Freddie won’t be around to bid on me. I authorized Ryan to bid three thousand dollars for me, in case no one else does. Hopefully I won’t be embarrassed. Alexander was right, I have a reputation. Why would anyone pay for something they could probably get for free, with dinner and a few drinks? Hell, who am I trying to kid? I don’t need either of those things.

  “You’re next, Dr. Bell,” Dr. Marianna calls out.

  “I hate you,” I reply, as I smooth down the front of my baby blue silk dress, then pat my hair to make sure the ton of hairspray I used is keeping it in its up do.

  The curtain opens, and I hear Mr. Walsh over the PA system. “This beautiful woman, ladies and gentleman, is Dr. Olivia Bell. She graduated first in her class at the University of Virginia, and the top of her class at Stanford School of Medicine. She’s a cardiologist, but whatever you do, don’t trust her with your heart!” He chuckles loudly after he says it, and a few people in the audience laugh too.

  Ouch! That stung. I already had on my widest fake smile when I walked out onto the stage, but the CEO’s words almost make me lose it. I walk closer to him, and I hope he can see the daggers flying at him from my eyes.

  He clears his throat, and says cheerfully, “Dr. Bell has planned a dinner at one of the most exclusive Italian restaurants in the city for the winner. Who would like to start the bidding?”

  I hear a female voice in the back call out, “One thousand dollars!” That’s a bit of an ego boost, and surprising. So I smile, and wave.

  “Two thousand dollars,” a male voice calls out. I think it might be Ryan. I sigh loudly. This is going to be as bad as I expected.

  “One hundred thousand dollars!” The lights are bright on the stage, so I can’t really see who is bidding. But I think I know the voice. I believe that’s Freddie. And he said he was leaving this morning. I smile toward the audience.

  “Well, that is an impressive bid, and our highest of the evening so far. That had better be one delicious dinner,” Mr. Walsh states. Is he trying to be funny, or creepy? I can’t tell. “One hundred thousand, going once…”

  “Two hundred thousand dollars!” That voice is unmistakable. I would know that voice anywhere. I close my eyes, and pray that he doesn’t win.

  “Wow! Now that’s a bid! Two hundred…”

  “Five hundred thousand dollars!” That’s Freddie again. I’d love to be able to watch the two of them, to see their faces. I squint my eyes, and I can barely make out his red hair.

  “Five hundred thousand dollars! That’s one heck of a tax write off, and a lot of equipment for the clinic.”

  “Do you convert from pounds?” Freddie answers Mr. Walsh’s jib. I do really enjoy Freddie’s wit.

  “We’ll take any denomination,” Mr. Walsh quips. The crowd laughs heartily. I’m glad someone is enjoying this.

  “One million dollars!” That’s the voice I hear in my dreams. The voice I dread. Alexander Astor. He doesn’t seem to be having as much fun as Freddie is. I sigh, and close my eyes. Maybe I’m glad I can’t see this.

  “The free clinic and its patients thank you for your generosity, Mr. Astor. One million…”

  “Two million!” Freddie counters. My heart is starting to pound. This isn’t happening. I’m more embarrassed than if no one had bid. I wish they would stop.

  “Three!” Alexander calls out. The crowd begins to oohh and aahh.

  “Five million!” Freddie yells.

  “Seven million dollars,” Alexander Astor exclaims. He’s near the stage now. I can see him, in his hand tailored tuxedo. He looks spectacular. He looks better than men half his age. But I really, really hope he doesn’t win.

  “Nine million dollars,” Freddie counters. He’s also approached the stage. He’s wearing a snowy white tux jacket, black shirt and no tie, with black pants. He looks great too.

  Lex steps closer, and I can see him plainly. He’s determined to win this outdated auction. I’m shaking now. The look on his face is almost scary, he’s so focused. He also looks very, very unhappy. He can’t even wink or smile. “Ten million dollars.”

  I look at Freddie, and he frowns and shakes his head. “Looks like the lovely lady is yours for the night, Astor,” he says, and turns to walk away. I should have called him. I don’t want him to leave. I want him to stay and bid. I don’t want him to hand me over to Alexander Astor, who looks wickedly pleased with himself now that he’s won.

  Alexander walks toward the steps, and holds his hand out for me. I don’t want to take it. But the crowd is cheering loudly. One pair of leaf green eyes are laser focused on me.

  “That’s Alexander Astor everyone. I bet his tax bill this year will be much lower than normal! Everyone give Mr. Astor a big round of applause.”

  I extend my hand when I’m half way down the steps, and he takes it. He holds it tighter than I expected. When I’m standing on the floor, he takes my hand and wraps it in the crook of his elbow. I look up at him, with more than a little anxiety.

  “The dress you wore to the picnic at UVA w
as almost that exact same color,” he says, as he takes in the bias-cut dress, with thin spaghetti straps and a bell skirt. I wonder if I wore this color, this dress, to remind him of that. Maybe I wanted him to bid subconsciously, and to remind him of the good times we had.

  I gasp at the memory. That was the day he told me he wanted a baby. It was also the day that changed my thoughts on marriage. His eyes squint up. Can he see what I’m thinking? Does he remember it too?

  He’s leading me outside, and the valet immediately runs to retrieve my car. Apparently it’s memorable. I’m still in shock, unsure of what to say or do. He takes the keys from the valet, and they help me into the passenger side of my Corvette.

  “I think we won’t put the top down,” Alexander says, as he takes in my thin dress.

  I shiver when his eyes stop at my cleavage, too much of which is exposed by the low V neckline.

  “Are you afraid of me?” he asks, as he revs the motor in the muscle car.

  I nod my head slightly.

  “I would have bid twice that much, or three times. You have no idea what I’m willing to do, Liv,” he states in a deep, gravelly tone. Then he puts the car in gear.

  Too many thoughts are running through my head. I wonder if his mother told him what I said to her. I wonder if he’s angry at me for that. Or for leaving him last Saturday. Or for leaving him fifteen years ago. I’m sure there are at least dozen reasons he might have to be angry at me.

  “I assume we aren’t going to the Italian restaurant.” I don’t even know where that came from. Probably my need to say something, anything, that will get him to share his reason behind that disturbing display of his wealth. I mean, I knew he was rich, but who has ten million dollars lying around to spend on a date?

  “No,” he practically snarls.

  This isn’t just any date, though. This is the date. And he remembers. He glances over at me when he stops at a red light, and I see it. That’s why he’s so angry. Fifteen years ago today we were supposed to get married. He had his life, and mine, planned out perfectly. He would have had a pretty but poor and submissive wife at home raising his children, while he took control of the business world. My plans were insignificant compared to his.