by Ryan, Syd
The suite has a large rectanglar table surrounded by nice comfy office chairs. I thought they would have the furniture nailed to the floor for people who get pissed off. OK, good luck with that, I think. If the hospital isn’t worried about it, I guess I shouldn’t be concerned with it.
Gavin is putting a packet of information in front of each chair. “Hey, Jamie. Happy to see you, even under these circumstances.” He is wearing scrubs. Usually he wears plain clothing. The scrubs give him a McDreamy look, and my sex drive quickly goes into action. I have no doubt before this group is done my cheeky underwear will be wet. “Speaking of circumstances, can I even be in this group with you running it?”
Gavin chuckles. He chuckles? I don’t see the humor in this at all. “Jamie, I spoke with my supervisor. For one, we are not in a relationship, so this is not a boundary issue. Also, this group is educational, not therapeutic. Six educational sessions. It will be over before you know it.”
“I brought you a coffee. I hope that is alright, not a conflict of interest.”
“I love coffee. Thanks, Jamie I appreciate it.”
A few more people straggle into the room, and Gavin directs them to their seats. I think some of these people are from the community; they’re not all from the hospital.
“What’s up with the scrubs?” I ask Gavin. “Usually that is not your work attire.”
“I had a new admission to the psych unit, and they were in opiate withdrawal. Apparently, her nausea medication didn’t kick in soon enough. She puked violently on my shirt. I jumped away from her, so I was able to spare my Italian dress shoes at least.” Gavin and I both appreciate fine clothing, and he is always dressed well.
“I have been there and done that with people getting sick on me.” Vomit and poop I can do without. My stomach is weak for an emergency room nurse; I own it.
“Is there anything you need help with before group starts?”
Gavin leans into me. “Trying to be teacher’s pet?” I felt like I had everything under control until this moment. I wasn’t thinking about the one-night stand and the unusual circumstances that night. It was nice just being Gavin and Jamie, coworkers in the emergency room. But I think Gavin wanted to remind me of our time together. He seems awfully confident, I wonder if he’s even aware of what happened that night. My guess is no. I don’t think he would have that playboy air of self-assurance toward me. I can’t come up with a comeback; that is how you know I’m off my game. I roll my eyes in annoyance, and he winks at me.
“I will find a seat.” I turn away from him. The room is filled to capacity, leaving one chair open, and that chair is right next to Gavin. Damn it, I can’t sit next to this hot, wonderful smelling man. I will be unable to keep my focus. I make a conscious decision that next time I’ll take my seat early and away from Gavin Rodgers, anger management therapist and psych admission therapist coordinator.
I sit down in my chair, and Gavin starts the group. He tells us if we complete the six weekly sessions we will get a certificate of completion. I roll my eyes. It takes everything in me to keep my smart-ass comments to myself. Gavin explains the rules of the group and the attendance policy. Of course if we miss a session, we are done until the next group starts. I make a mental note to tell Erin, the director of the emergency room, to make sure my schedule is adjusted. No way in hell I’m going to keep taking this course over and over. I also make a mental note to come up with a method of torture for Madison and McKenzie.
The first session is basically introductions and expectations for the group. Everyone has a story and, being a nosy person, I’m very intrigued. We have ten participants including me. The first person is Dan, a thirty-six-year-old man mandated by the court. He can’t stand his neighbor, and the police were called out six times in two weeks. I can tell he is angry by the look on his face. Abby is a twenty-two-year-old who got an assault charge fighting a girl at a bar. She is too busy looking at a cell phone and is redirected by Gavin for it. Kristina is a twenty-six-year-old college student who is taking this course to add to her resume for a psych position. Adam is a thirty-four-year-old male who got a domestic violence charge for beating up his baby mama. I can tell by looking at him that he thinks this is total bullshit and will be assaulting her ass again before we know it.
Avery and Aidan are two males who were ordered to attend after going off in traffic court, last week, over parking tickets. I can empathize with those guys; the ticketing is off the hook in Tampa. Jason is a security guard at the hospital. I almost didn’t recognize him in regular street clothes. My guess is he got a little too handsy with some people. Jose is a food worker in the hospital cafeteria. He probably heard one too many people complain about the crap they serve here. Bradley is a guy who plays field hockey. He had to attend this group to avoid getting kicked out of the league,. He has received six suspensions in two years, so he had no other choice. The last person is me. I was ordered to participate because I couldn’t stand for my best friend getting bullied after her boyfriend’s death. I shouldn’t have done it at the nurse's station. Lesson learned, my friend. I found areas that are off camera and unregistered cell phone numbers to use in the future.
After introductions are completed, we have about twenty minutes left. I am curious what Gavin will do with the rest of the session. Since most of us are here as a consequence of our anger, he wants us to give five examples of losing our temper that resulted in consequences of our actions. Grateful that I will be the last one to go, I have a hard time thinking of anything. Finally, one comes to mind. I got suspended from nursing school for arguing with an instructor. I was correct about the procedure in question, and that is the only reason I wasn’t terminated from the program. I also got kicked out of school for three days for arguing with a boy bigger than me in middle school. Two years ago, I got a disorderly conduct charge for being verbally aggressive with a girl at a bar. I cannot stand two-faced people, so I called her out on her shit, and she didn’t like it. Of course, I’m going to include my reason for being mandated to this group.
One thing burns the most in my mind. Regan and I were on a shopping trip at the mall. We had finished our first year in nursing school and, to celebrate, we decided a shopping trip was needed. I saw this forty-year-old woman with a child in a wheelchair. The child was about twelve years old; my guess is that she had cerebral palsy. Her eyes were gold, and they shone so brightly when everything around her was so dark. Her mother complained the entire time. She bitched about the weather, her clothes, and house cleaning, and then she started in on her daughter. Her daughter sat there and took it. I thought she wasn’t able to talk.
Regan repeatedly tried to pull me away, but I couldn’t let this go. Finally, it got to be too much, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I told her mother what I thought of her in not so pleasant terms. The little girl put her hand on my arm and quietly asked me to stop. Her mom went to talk to the manager, and the girl had tears in her eyes. She told me she appreciated my saying something, but she could handle it. My intervening would only make things worse. I offered to call the police, and she explained her grandparents were coming tomorrow to pick her up. This was the last day she would ever see her mom, and she would take time with her any way she could get it. It took everything at that moment for me not to cry. I understood, at that moment, we were one and the same, both grasping for moments with parents who didn’t want us or deserve us.
“Jamie, it’s your turn,” Gavin says in a matter-of-fact voice. It takes me a moment to register everything going on around me. “Sorry about that, guys, it’s been a long day.” I explain the consequences of my anger, keeping it short and to the point. Gavin closes the meeting by discussing the schedule and giving his contact information to everyone.
I want to make a quick exit, not knowing what to say to Gavin. I stand up, take my empty coffee cup, and head toward the door. Then I am stopped in my tracks. “Jamie, I need a minute of your time before you head out.” Gavin says.
I turn around and
plaster a fake smile on my face. “Sure, no problem.” I wait as everyone else leaves except for Kristina, the college student. She is chatty, and her hopeful tone suggests she is a people pleaser. I don’t want to be in this place, and she isn’t making it any easier. Gavin answers her questions politely and efficiently. I, on the other hand, am ready to choke her. Kristina leaves the room. I think she is happier than she was when she came in.
“I can help you clean this up, Gavin.” My nerves are all over the place, and my hands need to keep busy. I turn my back to him.
Just as I pick up the first water bottle, I feel Gavin behind me. He puts his hand on my elbow. “Jamie, I didn’t ask you to stay to clean up trash. The hospital will have the Environmental Services Department clean this room later this evening.” Environmental Services is a big name for housekeeping. I can smell Gavin, and that instantly throws me off my game. Damn you, Gavin. His cologne reeks of money and manliness.
“I don’t mind helping out, it will save them time later.”
“Stop, Jamie,” Gavin says.
I turn to face him, leaving no distance between us. He moves a few strands of hair, which fell out of my ponytail, behind my ears. “I wanted to make sure everything was OK, you spaced out for a minute.”
“I was just thinking about a patient in the E.R.”
Gavin speaks quietly in my ear. “I don’t believe that for one minute, Jamie. I will let this go...for now.” He has my body off kilter. My nipples ache under my bra, and my panties are beginning to dampen. I want to cross the line with him in so many ways. I’m a rule breaker, not a follower. Rules weren’t designed for people like me. Gavin and all his hotness call to me on so many different levels.
I think back to the night we hooked up at the bar, and I need to end this before it becomes a bigger hot mess. “I’m going to head home, it has been a long day. Need anything else before I leave?”
“Jamie, go ahead and go home. Be careful.”
I shake my head and walk toward the door. “Jamie, by the way, the running away from me you have been doing—it ends now. I look forward to seeing you, you have my contact information. I added my cell number for your personal use.”
I am utterly speechless. “Goodnight, Gavin.”
Chapter 6
One anger management session down and five more to go. I should be feeling relief, but it just isn’t there. Gavin is an enchanting distraction, a gorgeous male specimen. A few words and touches from him, and my nipples are hard and my underwear is soaked. I can’t get home to my vibrator fast enough, and one use will not be sufficient tonight. It took all my self-control not to order him into a closet and have him fuck me. I would have him take me any way he wanted to give it to me.
I find a shitty parking spot at my apartment building. Why not? It goes with the rest of my day. I guess I am grateful I’m not carrying a bunch of groceries to my apartment. I need to go to the mailbox and get my mail; it has been a few days since I received any bills. My frustration continues to pick up; it seems like this day is never going to end.
My hands are full with my work bag and wallet, making it harder to get my mailbox open. The guy next to me is in a pair of scrubs as well. “Do you need some help?” He startles me; I was not expecting him to speak to me.
“No, I got it. Thanks.”
He turns toward me, and now my day is complete shit. “Jamie, I didn’t know you lived here.” It’s Dickhead Doug from Anesthesia.
“Oh, believe me, if I knew you were living here...”
“What about me living here, Jamie?” Doug seems disconcerted. “Never mind, it doesn't matter. How long have you been living here? Where is your apartment at?” Doug smiles, looking as smug as always.
“I live in the townhouses across the way, not an apartment. I have been living here for over a year.” This is a complete mind fuck. I know when my lease is up, I will be out of here. I can’t stand the thought of running into Doug all the time.
“I’m glad we are neighbors, maybe we should spend time at the pool together. It would only be neighborly for me to invite you to cool off from the hot Tampa sun.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Doug, I want to make this entirely clear. I will never ever go on any type of date with you. Even if you're the last person with a penis left on this earth. We are coworkers, nothing more, and the sooner you accept it the better. Have a good day, Doug. Thanks for offering to help me.”
“Jamie, beware of the strangers lurking in the dark. Don’t forget stranger danger.” Doug laughs as he walks to his townhouse. I get an eerie feeling as he leaves, and a slight chill leaves goosebumps on my arms.
I hurry back to my apartment, still feeling uneasy. When I get inside, I lock the door and make sure my windows are secured. I have always thought Doug was an ass, nothing more, but tonight he instilled fear in me.
My parents kept shady people around us, so I’m able to identify one quickly. But I need to keep myself in the present and not allow myself to go there. Maybe I just had a crap day and need a bath or hot shower to unwind. I decide to take a scalding shower to clear my body and mind of Doug. I turn the temperature up as much as my body will tolerate. A few touches from him were too many.
I get out of the shower and get into a tank top and bed shorts. My curls are all over the place, but I decide to leave my hair as it is. I look into my mirror and see the real Jamie. No makeup and no perfection for the world to see. I pour a glass of wine to calm my nerves and climb into bed. My bed feels like heaven after the day I had. I feel like I’m on a cloud. I get myself organized. My wine, my cell phone, and my remote are within reach. I begin to feel content. I promised Regan I would call her after I got out of anger management today.
After two rings she picks up. A definite sign she has been waiting for my phone call. “How is my favorite bitch?” Her voice is happy and filled with love.
“Waiting for my call? Where is Grayson?”
“He went to the sports bar with some of his college friends,” she whispers. The same people who were friends with Jake, her cheating boyfriend who died in a car accident.
“Regan, let it go. I know what you are thinking. No one, I mean absolutely no one, is judging you for being with one of Jake’s best friends. Jake destroyed your relationship when he knocked up his assistant human resources director. Otherwise, is everything OK?”
“Everything is perfect, I’m waiting for the other shoe to fall.”
“Regan, you’re perfect. No one deserves this more than you.”
“Jamie, you are right as always. I commend you for your distraction technique, I’m impressed. I have been waiting all day for you to tell me how your first anger management session went.”
“Today was more of a meet and greet for the group. Two other hospital employees were mandated as well. I can see why—because they have to deal with the public. I was just dealing with two catty two-faced...people.”
“Jamie, this will be good for you. I feel like you are always one step away from going off on people.”
“Girl, I can’t argue with you on that one.”
“Tell me about Gavin, I want to hear every little dirty detail.”
“What did you expect to happen, Reg? Did you think he was going to throw me on the table and fuck my brains out?” I have no problem admitting that was exactly what I wanted to happen, minus a happily ever after included. I don’t give Regan a chance to answer. “Unfortunately, that did not occur. Everyone introduced themselves, and we talked about why we were mandated to the group. After the introductions, we were to give five consequences of our anger. Basically, that sums up our session. Gavin asked to speak to me afterwards. We exchanged a few words, and now I’m here at home.”
“Oh, Jamie...I know there is way more information than that. This conversation is far from over, so let’s start from the beginning. I want to hear every sordid detail.
The silence is deafening on the phone, and I hope she can feel me rolling my eyes at her. “I really don’t think
there is much to tell.”
“Jamie,” Regan sounds angry—she means business. I don’t want to talk about this. Apparently, she gets it, but I know this is not enough to stop her. “OK, Regan, I know you will not leave me alone until you get something out of me.
“Gavin made it clear that my running away from him ends now and made sure I had his personal cell phone number.”
“I’m so excited. I knew he was still interested in you. Jamie, you have to give him another chance.”
I feel the frustration sitting in my bones. “Please explain to me how I’m supposed to let this happen? He is the therapist for my anger management group. He holds my job in his hands. He is part of my one-and-done rule. Jamie, I don’t go back. I like it this way.”
“OK, I get it about the job. He could lose his job as well, so I wouldn’t worry about your job. I don’t see Gavin holding it over your head. As far as your one-and-done rule, what about Chris?”
“Chris and I agreed to a friends-with-benefits relationship. Under no circumstances will I have feelings for him. Therefore, it works beneficially for both of us.”
I hear Regan’s sighs of frustration. “You are my best friend, and I’m tired of you settling for quick fucks. You deserve more than this, Jamie. I know you make shit choices because you think you don't deserve better. I’m telling you that you do, and you are worthy. A beautiful, resilient, caring, great woman who deserves the moon and the stars. I just want you to give Gavin the chance to see if he is worthy of you.”
“I can’t take it when you say really nice things to me, Regan.”
“Bitch, believe it. I’m your bestie, and you better get used to it.”
The long day comes to an end, and I have never been so grateful. I got through my first session, five more to go. Hopefully, it goes faster so I can get done with this craziness. I grab my wallet off the bedside table. I take Gavin’s business card out of it and, turning it over, I see his handwritten cell number on it. Naturally, by adding it to my phone, I would be admitting to wanting more. Or I can continue my bullshit and act like I need his number for work purposes. I add his cell number to my phone. I want to add it under the contact name “Whiskey Dick.” if I weren't mandated to his group, I would. I make a silent agreement that after the therapy group is concluded I will do it. After all, it is my phone. I have no doubt my contact info is listed under “Bitch” in plenty of guys’ phones.