The Doctor Who Has No Ambition (Soulless Book 9)

by Victoria Quinn

  “Because it’s none of their business.”

  I kept my eyes down on my salad as I stabbed the lettuce leaves with the fork and placed a bite in my mouth. “But once we started talking about the different trials, my brain lit up in a way it hasn’t in a long time.”

  “I can imagine.” With her arms crossed on her thighs, she looked down at me, her long, curled hair stretching down her back, her appearance perfect for a photo shoot.

  “You know, you don’t have to dress like that all the time. I’m a pretty casual guy. I’m always in jeans and a tee.”

  “Dress like what?” she asked. “You don’t like the way I look?”

  My words shot out instantly like a projectile. “Definitely not what I said. I just meant it’s a demanding job, and you don’t have to rock it in heels all the time. You work for me, not my mom.”

  She turned away, a slight smile on her lips. “I don’t mind. With my first paycheck, I splurged on some clothes I’d always wanted but could never afford. And besides, I represent Dr. Dex Hamilton, world-renowned heart surgeon. I’ve got to bring my A game every day—and do it in heels.” She slid off my desk, straightened, and headed to the door.

  Don’t do it.

  Come on, don’t be that guy.

  Don’t be the asshole who gawks at your assistant’s ass.

  My eyes moved of their own accord.

  Sweet mother of Jesus…that was one hell of an ass.

  She turned around to face me again.

  I pulled my eyes away as quickly as I could to cover up my perverseness and looked at my salad like it was the best thing I’d ever eaten.

  She stared at me expectantly, like she’d said something and I missed it.

  I’d been too busy listening to her ass say nothing. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

  She spoke again, like she wasn’t suspicious of my wandering mind. “I’m going to set up an office next door so I can be here a couple hours every day and work on filing everything for you and staying organized.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can handle that myself.” I hadn’t had an assistant before, and I organized things as I went like my mother taught me. Dad and Derek were all over the place, but Mom made sure Daisy and I weren’t like that.

  “But why would you, when you have me?” She cocked her head slightly, wearing a nice smile. “I’m going to scan everything and upload it for you so you can access anything you need by date, subject, and through searching key terms. That way, we can easily pull it up here or at the practice if you need it there too. Besides, I’ll need something to do when I’m not booking appointments or answering your emails.”

  I was already digging this new assistant thing. If she did all the tedious stuff for me, I’d have more time to focus on other things. “And getting me lunch?” I asked hopefully.

  She chuckled. “Of course, that’s all you care about.”

  I continued to eat my salad. “We men are all the same.”

  Her eyes softened further before she turned around and prepared to leave my office. “Except you, Dex.”

  As part of my teaching position, they wanted me to take on surgical students in my OR, and while I agreed to that in theory, I wasn’t ready to do that just yet…or anytime soon. So, I worked with the students in the cardiology lab, where they worked on hearts donated by cadavers.

  Since everyone we worked on was already dead, I felt pretty comfortable.

  Most of the students were older than me, so sometimes it was a bit weird, but I didn’t struggle to take control of the class because I was the most knowledgeable person in that room, so I automatically had all the authority.

  Plus, they all kissed my ass because they wanted to be part of my surgeries.

  I used to take interns because my mentor took me under her wing and taught me so much, so I thought it was important to pay that forward and accept a student I really admired as my shadow, but I hadn’t found a student I connected with on that level.

  I was certain it would happen, but I was a hard man to impress.

  At the end of the lab, the students were dismissed, and I headed to my office down the hall. It was a small space, more like a broom closet, but I only intended to be there a couple hours a week, so it didn’t matter to me.

  The door was open, so Sicily walked inside. “How’d it go?”

  I turned to look at her, seeing her in a short skirt with black tights underneath, along with a skintight sweater. As always, she looked incredible…and distracting. I really needed to stop looking at her like that when she was my assistant, my colleague. If I couldn’t get my shit together, I might have to change the dress code. It would be baggy sweats and loose tops from now on. “Most of them are on top of their game, some are brilliant, and some are just so awkward that I can’t imagine they’ll have decent bedside manners.”

  “That’s where you come in, right?” She set the bag on the desk.

  “My job is to teach them to be good surgeons, not therapists.”

  “And isn’t a good surgeon someone who keeps the patient calm and hopeful because that directly impacts their recovery?”

  I sank into my chair and stared at her, seeing the victory in her eyes because she totally had me, and she knew it. “Yes…true.”

  “Then maybe include that in your lesson plan. Tell them about your humanitarian work. Tell them about Thamuku. Bring pictures.”

  It wasn’t a terrible idea.

  “They’re smart. You’re smart. They got through medical school, and so did you. What’s the difference between the two of you? What’s the difference between you and every other surgeon out there?”

  I stared at her.

  She pointed her finger into my chest, right at my heart. “That beautiful thing right there. Focus on that.”

  I gave a shrug in agreement. “I guess you have a point.”

  “I mean, I know you’re a genius and a prodigy and all that too.”

  I shifted my gaze and looked at the brown paper bag. “What’s this?” I pulled it close then peeked inside to see the sandwich and bag of chips.

  “Dinner. But I know you’ve been in the lab all day looking at dead people, so I understand if you aren’t hungry.”

  I chuckled as I unwrapped the sandwich. “Oh, I’m always hungry. I’ll be in a twelve-hour surgery, and my stomach will growl and the nurses will laugh.”

  “That’s amazing. I’m not a wuss, but I just couldn’t do that…all the blood and everything else.”

  I opened the bag and munched on a couple chips. “It’s not for everyone.”

  She moved to the armchair near my desk and took a seat, crossing her legs, her eyelashes thick and smoky. “I feel like you’re much happier than you used to be.”

  I leaned back in the desk chair and continued to eat my chips. “What are the instances you’re comparing?” This was my first week back into my old schedule, minus patient care, and prior to that, she saw me work on people’s computers and make jokes about porn.

  “Well, at the Trinity Building, you were friendly and outgoing, but it always kinda seemed like a façade.”

  She picked up on that? Only my family noticed.

  “And now you’re more serious, more thoughtful. There’s this excitement about you that seems genuine, like you’re excited to get to your class or your research lab. When you talked about your first day and all the data you read, it was like you could hardly wait to get to work. Your passion and drive are growing. And when you looked at that picture of Thamuku on your wall, you showed a deep level of humanity that just doesn’t exist in society anymore. I feel like this change is really good for you.”

  Sicily seemed to notice a lot of things about me that others didn’t. Catherine never said things like that, even when we were at our happiest. She asked me about my surgeries and how my day was, but she never recognized or praised me for my good qualities. She bragged that I was the best heart surgeon in the world, but she never talked about me as a person. “Yeah, I
think I am happier. More fulfilled. If I can never go back to surgery, I guess I could just do this.”

  She shook her head slightly. “You’ll get there, Dex.”

  I went back to eating my chips, unable to truly picture myself standing there in the OR with a patient on the table, sedated and ready to be cut right down the middle so I could get access to the heart.

  She watched me for a few more seconds, in case I had something to say.

  I didn’t.

  “I made an appointment with Mr. Torres for next week.”

  I stilled at her declaration, my hand inside the bag, my fingertips touching the salty chips.

  “It’s just a consultation. I thought you could go examine him—”

  “Did I ask you to do that?”

  Her arms slowly crossed over her chest, her guard rising in preparation for my hostility. “I just thought—”

  “Did I ask you to do that?” I didn’t get angry often, but when it happened, it was bad. It was like a spark on a hillside. If you didn’t put it out right away, it launched into a forest fire that destroyed acres and acres of land.

  She pressed her lips tightly together.

  “Cancel it.”

  “I’m not going to do that.”

  “Then I’ll fire you.” I pushed to my feet and tossed my chips aside, turning on the woman who was supposed to be my right-hand.

  She got to her feet too, and instead of folding like she should, she actually glared at me. “No.”

  My eyes narrowed on her face.

  “I believe in you. Firing me isn’t going to change that. If you really want Mr. Torres not to come into the office, you’ll have to do it yourself. Because I sure as hell am not going to cancel that appointment.” She turned away and walked out of my office, her head held high. At the door, she turned back, her eyes steely with resolve. “Sometimes we need someone to push us when we think we aren’t ready, to force us out of our comfort zone, someone to push us into progress. I’m not just your assistant who fetches you lunch and files your paperwork. I’m your friend—a friend who will never give up on you.”

  23

  Sicily

  I showed up to work the next day like nothing happened.

  He could fire me a million times, and I still wasn’t going anywhere.

  He was at his research position at the Kline Clinic, and now that I had the necessary clearance to go into the facility and his office, I scanned all the papers sitting on his desk and dropped off lunch, hoping he would finish his work at a reasonable time and see it.

  He didn’t text to apologize for his behavior.

  I’d expected him to—and was disappointed when he didn’t.

  I went to the Trinity Building afterward to see Cleo, and it was nice to catch up with Matt and Carrie. There was a lot of action at the coffee cart, people sitting at the tables and enjoying their coffees and whatever snack they’d picked up.

  I remembered when Dex got me something to eat on my first day, sweet and unexpected.

  Cleo looked up from her computer when she spotted me. “Hey, Sicily. How are you?”

  “Good, good. What about you?” I pulled up a chair and sat beside her.

  She closed out of the files on her screen and then locked her computer. “Great. You wanna get a coffee?”

  “Absolutely. I miss those lattes, especially because they’re free.”

  She chuckled, and we grabbed something from the barista before we took a seat at one of the round tables in the lobby. Her hair was pulled back in a slick ponytail, and her blue eyes were bright, especially since she’d left her glasses at her desk. “I’m so glad to hear that Dex had a good week.”

  “Yeah, I expected it to take a while, but the change was instant. He’s buried in his work like he can’t look away for a second because it’s too enthralling. I didn’t see him interact with his students, but he said good things about it. Everyone seems really happy to have him there.”

  “I bet. Dex is a unicorn.”

  “A unicorn?” I asked.

  “Yeah. One in a million, basically.”

  I didn’t want to tell her about the fight I’d had with Dex yesterday because it either made him look bad or it made me look bad. She might be annoyed with me for crossing the line and taking matters into my own hands, or she might be annoyed that he ran away from his responsibilities like a child. “It seems like all your kids are unicorns. Dex was telling me that his older brother is a rocket scientist who works with NASA, and that his sister is a brilliant doctor. I mean, it’s pretty incredible that all your kids are these high-achieving, world-renowned professionals.”

  There was definitely pride in her eyes, like that compliment warmed her all the way down to her bones. “Yes, I’m very proud of all my children. Deacon and I weren’t married when we got pregnant with Dex, and I was so happy because I wanted to have Deacon’s kids the moment I met him. I hadn’t even been that enthused about having kids in the first place, but I fell in love with Deacon pretty much overnight, and this biological instinct kicked in where I wanted to have his babies. And here they are…absolutely unbelievable people.” Her eyes softened as she dropped her gaze. “But honestly, I’m more proud of who they are as people. Highly successful people are usually poisoned by their egos and arrogance, but not my kids. They’re just like their father, only focused on making the world a better place. They’re kind, generous, full of integrity, and just really good humans.”

  I nodded in agreement, knowing Dex fit that description perfectly.

  “Well, when I have kids, you’ll have to give me some pointers.”

  She smiled. “Marry a good man. That’s all you need to do.”

  It was simple and sound advice, but also unachievable. Because men like that didn’t exist, and if they did exist, they were already taken by some supermodel. Maybe I would just go to a sperm bank or something.

  “Any other updates?” she asked, redirecting the conversation back to work.

  “Well, I’m trying to get Dex to see Mr. Torres, but he’s uncooperative.”

  “Really?” she asked. “I thought after the good week he had, he would feel confident again.”

  I shrugged. “Guess not.” I dropped my gaze and looked into my coffee, which was full of cream, sugar, and spices…basically heaven in a cup.

  “Did you two butt heads over it?”

  “You could say that…”

  “Oh no. What happened?”

  I lifted my chin and looked at her again, knowing I should just tell her because she would hear about it from Dex at some point. “I made an appointment for Mr. Torres next week. When I told Dex about it, he got pretty pissed off. He told me to cancel the appointment or he’d fire me.”

  Her eyes widened. “Did you cancel it?”

  I shook my head. “And I showed up to work today like nothing happened.” I took a sip of the warm coffee. “I’m not gonna budge. Maybe I should be more sensitive and let him take his time, but I know Mr. Torres’s life is on the line, and I can’t let Dex avoid it forever. I’m afraid if I don’t push him, he’ll never be ready.” I expected to be berated for taking this serious situation into my own hands, to be warned about how reckless it was to force a doctor to provide care when he wasn’t ready. But I believed Dex was more than ready to do this operation, that his impeccable skills had never changed, that his knowledge and intellect were just as strong as always. It was just the fear—and that fear would never go away until he conquered it.

  After a long pause, Cleo gave a nod. “You did the right thing.”

  “Really?” I asked in surprise.

  “That’s exactly what he needs, Sicily. You’re the perfect person for this job. Because he needs someone who cares more about his success than pissing him off. I’m sure Dex will come around on his own and pull his head out of his ass, so just give him some time. I swear to you, my son is the best man in the world. He’s just not quite himself yet.”

  I worked at the clinic that day because I con
ducted interviews.

  We needed an extra person for the office, a nurse who had experience in cardiology to help Dex do the things I couldn’t. There was no point in hiring someone right this second when there were no patients to be seen, but I took a gamble and assumed Dex would be ready soon, soon enough to see Mr. Torres on Wednesday.

  I wasn’t just looking for someone who was qualified, but someone who was pleasant, someone who cared about the work we were doing. I hadn’t officially hired her yet, but I was certain I was going to choose Andrea, a nurse who had spent two years in the Doctors Without Borders program, traveling to underprivileged communities and providing health care and vaccines to people who didn’t have access to basic things we took for granted. I needed to talk to Dex before I officially hired her, but I didn’t go out of my way to see him.

  I sat behind the main desk, alone in the office, the solitude so loud it was easy to forget I was in a big city, sitting at nearly the top of a skyscraper. Once I was finished there, I’d have to head over to Dex’s new apartment and let the designer in so she could begin moving the furniture inside.

  When Dex found out about that, I wondered if he’d threaten to fire me again.

  Didn’t want to think about it.

  The elevator beeped before the doors opened.

  My eyes turned to see who’d mistakenly come to the wrong floor.

  But it was Dex.

  He walked inside, in black jeans that fit snugly on his toned thighs, black shoes, and a dark blue hoodie with the two drawstrings dangling down his chest. His hard body stretched the cotton over his large chest, over his muscular arms. Even in baggy clothes, he had definition in his body that couldn’t be denied. If I saw him on the street, I would never figure out he was some brilliant surgeon because he was so laid-back and down-to-earth.

  He took a look around as he came closer to the main desk, and once he was nearby, he turned his head and looked at me for the first time since his outburst yesterday. He must have seen the lunch I left for him while he was in the lab, along with his things neatly organized. He came closer then rested his arms on the high countertop, his hands coming together as he glanced at the space behind me, where the other computers and printers were.