by Wild, Cassie
That did it.
I stepped out from behind the wall.
The conversation stopped.
Wayne and Henderson weren’t the only people in the lounge. One of the others, a doctor I’d met during my residency here, saw me and looked away, his face flushing red.
I wanted to not be angry with him. He wasn’t the one talking about me like that. But he had stayed quiet too. Whenever people in his position stayed quiet, it let the others get off scot-free.
But that wasn’t happening this time.
“So, let me get this straight. When a fucking patient grabs his nurse’s ass, he’s just paying her a compliment,” I said in a neutral tone. “When I opt to not fetch and carry coffee for a fellow doctor, I’m the problem. When I expect to be treated the same as the male doctors on staff, I’m being a prissy bitch.”
Wayne’s face went an ugly shade of red. Henderson opened his mouth.
I cut him off. “And for the record, the words you really want are gender discrimination, not sexual harassment.” I gave him a cool smile. “Trust me. If I’m the victim of sexual harassment, I’ll make very certain that the person delivering the harassment understands the difference.”
“Briar—”
“It’s Dr. Downing,” I bit off. “Briar is what my friends and equals call me. You’re clearly not my friend and you sure as hell don’t treat me as an equal. So do not use my first name.”
As I watched, Henderson’s face was turning the ugly color of a ripe plum. “Now, you listen here—”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t.” I made a big show of checking my watch. “I have to get on the floor. I’m working a double, you know. As insisted by the medical director.”
I turned on my heel and stormed out of the lounge. I was all but shaking with anger, so I made a sharp turn and headed into the nearest restroom. Dumping my coffee down the sink, I tried not to look at my reflection in the mirror.
In the end, though, I did.
I saw a young woman with shortish brown hair, the soft curls framing her face. That face was red with a mix of indignation and humiliation, and as I watched, her light blue eyes glimmered with a sheen of angry tears.
I threw the cup away and pressed the tips of my fingers to my eyes. In the quiet of the restroom, I whispered to myself, “Damn it.”
* * *
I’d made friends with one of the surgical residents who was on her rotation through the emergency department. Anneke Tate was my age, although I’d already finished my residency.
Sometimes it was easy to forget that not everybody graduated high school at the age of fourteen and started in on medical school after finishing college at sixteen. By the time I was through with medical school, I’d been just nineteen.
I was used to being the odd one out, but it was still a little lonely to have so many of my peers keep a distance from me.
Anneke and I had clicked right away. She didn’t have any issue with my ‘big brain’ as she called it, and we’d spent more than a few nights giggling to each other on the phone.
The two of us sat outside eating our lunch. I’d spent the morning trying not to think about the incident with Wayne and Henderson, although I hadn’t entirely succeeded. Henderson had shot me more than a few dirty looks as we passed each other in the ED, but I’d pretended not to see him.
I wasn’t doing as good a job pretending everything was okay, though.
Anneke had noticed.
“You going to tell me what’s wrong?” she asked softly.
I made a face at her. “Henderson. Apparently, when I told that patient he wasn’t entitled to grab his nurse’s ass, he saw it as me attacking the patient.” I huffed out a breath as I reached for my drink.
“He told you that?” she asked, aghast.
“Not me. He told another doctor that.” I rolled my eyes and told her the whole, frustrating story. “I’m thinking about filing a complaint.”
She gave me a suddenly guarded look. “I don’t know if it will do any good.”
I frowned at her.
“It should,” she said, her voice tight. “But…well, I know Wayne is friends with the CEO of the hospital. It’s how he got this job.”
Cocking my head, I learned forward. “How do you know that?”
“People talk,” she mumbled with a lopsided shrug. “And the hospital CEO is a bit of…” She hesitated and looked around. “He’s something of a jerk himself.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s entitled to ignore a discrimination claim that’s been filed with human resources,” I argued.
“No, he’s not. But it doesn’t mean you’ll get anywhere with trying to file that complaint, either.” Anneke looked at me with tired eyes. “Sometimes, shit happens, and we’re just stuck with no other choice but to deal with it.”
Two
Cormac
The phone rang.
The early morning Miami sunshine cut through the windows and hit my tired eyes as I rolled onto my stomach and shoved my head under the pillow.
It might be daylight out, but it was too fucking early for me.
If I had to surface before noon, I wasn’t happy.
The moment the phone stopped ringing, I slid back into sleep.
It seemed I’d no sooner closed my eyes than the damn phone started ringing again.
“What the fuck!”
My shout echoed around the spartan apartment in which I crawled into bed each night. I’d been living here for over a year, but I couldn’t exactly call it home.
It was entirely possible I could have had a home slap me in the face before I recognized it, though. Even when I’d lived with my parents, I’d never really felt all that welcome, and that’s what a home was, right? Someplace you belonged.
This was just a place to crash and eat. It was empty, although not exactly quiet, thanks to the sounds of the city that came through the windows. It was just how I liked it.
At least, it was just how I liked it when the damn cell phone wasn’t ringing.
The bloody thing went quiet just as I sat up to glare at it.
I’d no sooner than put my feet on the floor when it started ringing again. Whoever was calling wasn’t going to stop until I answered. That narrowed the list of possible callers down quite a bit.
Those few who’d be that persistent were more than likely calling about something important. Either a job or a problem.
With a sigh, I grabbed the phone and stabbed my finger at the screen.
“Yeah,” I said in lieu of a greeting.
“You sure as hell took long enough.”
I rolled my eyes at the irritated—and irritating—voice. “I was sleeping,” I said. “Late night.”
“When somebody calls to offer you the kind of money I’m calling to offer, you should try to be a little more on the ball.”
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling, resisting the urge to tell the asshole on the other end of the line to shove off. “As I said, late night. It happens in my line of work. Oh, well. What’s the job?”
He went on to recount the details, ending with a number. That number was how much I’d be paid on completion of the job. “Any operating capital?” I asked. I never took jobs where they expected me to do all the work on my own dime. Wasn’t worth it.
“Yes.” He offered another figure.
If he wasn’t such a dick, I might have whistled in sheer surprise. “How much of a cut are you taking?”
“My cut has already been taken into account.” He sounded smug. “All that green will be yours when you finish the job.”
I scraped my nails over my stubbled cheek, pondering. It didn’t take long to make up my mind. “I’ll do it.”
“Good.” There was a brief pause, then he added, “I’ll start making the arrangements.”
I grunted my understanding and disconnected the line. I climbed from the bed, muscles protesting the movement. My first few steps were awkward, my legs feeling oddly heavy, although I knew the problem. I’d been up wa
y too late, I’d drank way too much, and I’d ended the night with a brawl.
I rubbed my jaw in memory of the punch the other bastard had thrown. It had been his only decent shot, but it had felt like he might have just knocked my head off my shoulders if he’d just hit a little harder.
I took some comfort in knowing that my opponent was feeling a lot worse than I was. The thought made me smile in amusement, and that was the look I saw on my face when I looked in the mirror.
My brown eyes were bloodshot with shadows beneath them. I was in bad need of a haircut, my shaggy, reddish-brown hair falling over my brow, long enough to completely cover my eyebrows.
Turning my face, I studied my jaw, and sure enough, my skin had gone the familiar, purply-blue of a bruise under the stubble.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered.
Without giving it another thought, I turned and shuffled into the shower. I’d fallen asleep naked, so I didn’t have to worry about stripping out of my clothes, which was a good thing. The various aches and bruises would have made that task torture.
Turning up the water as hot as I could stand it, I lifted my face to the spray, determined to wash away the cobwebs in my brain.
I had a job, and I needed to be ready to handle it.
I didn’t have time for a hangover, bruises, or aches.
Continues in The Setup (Downing Family Book 4), coming October 12. CLICK HERE to get an email notification on release day.
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About the Author
Cassie Wild loves romance. Ever since she was eight years old, she’s been reading every romance novel she could get her hands on, always dreaming of writing her own romance novels. In her spare time, she enjoys watching superhero movies, playing video games, reading tons of books all while cooking her favorite Italian meals.
First, I would like to thank all my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. A big Thank You goes out to all the Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of the series.
Also, a big Thank You goes out to my editors Helen and Lynette. You make my ideas and words look so good.