“Not if it’s in the spinal cord,” Atlas said. “Blood-brain barrier.”
“Hmm…” I shifted my chair left and right. “That is a possibility. Consider a spinal tap.”
“It’s so risky on a young person that I’d rather not,” Anthony said.
Atlas dropped his arms and slid his hands into his pockets. “It’s essential to rule it out at the least.”
“But you know how ER doctors are,” Anthony said. “They’re always in a hurry, so those spinal taps are dangerous. They aren’t even guided by imaging.”
“Then I can do it,” Atlas said. “I’ve done a million of those.”
Anthony turned in his chair toward me. “Daisy is actually the best.”
Atlas shifted his gaze to me, but instead of giving me his usual annoyance and hostility, it was just calm consideration. “Alright. Let’s schedule the patient. Shelly, give us the rundown of your patients.”
With my bag over my shoulder, I left my office and walked through the lobby until I made it to the sidewalk.
At that moment, Atlas stepped out of the back seat of his town car and focused his dark eyes on me. He approached me, his bag over his shoulder. “Time for a burrito?”
“Psh, I wish. No, I’m headed out of town.”
“You’re usually the last person here. Strange to see you leaving—” he lifted his wrist and tapped the screen on his watch “—on time.”
“Yes, I have a life. Believe it or not.”
He dropped his arm and continued to stare at me, like he wanted to know what my plans were but knew it was inappropriate to ask.
I was laid-back, so I didn’t care. “I’m headed to Atlantic City.”
A slow grin came over his face. “Was not expecting you to say that.”
“Well, I’ve got to work.”
Now, a consternated expression came over his face, his eyes darkening in further intensity. “Are you a stripper?”
“What?” I asked incredulously. “No. If I were going to be in the entertainment industry, I wouldn’t be a pole dancer, first of all. I’ve got mad respect for bitches who do the pole. The physical athleticism required for that…insane.”
“Then I’m confused. Are you an ER doctor down there?”
“How about this? Instead of guessing, I just tell you.”
“Alright.”
“I play poker. I have a match tonight.”
That consternated expression came back, deeper than it was before. “Like, a high-stakes game?”
“Yep. The clinic doesn’t pay the most competitive salary in the world, and Manhattan is expensive, so…girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. I grew up with a distinct lifestyle since my parents are billionaires, so there are things I just like to have, like designer clothes, a penthouse, stuff like that. No, I’m not materialistic. I just like nice things. Don’t judge me.”
“No judgments.”
“Anyway, I’ve got a game tonight and tomorrow, so I’m headed out. Shelly is covering my patients while I’m away.”
He nodded. “Good luck.”
“Thanks. But I don’t need it. I don’t need chance either.”
He grinned. “You count cards?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.”
“That’s pretty impressive. People can’t just do that in their head.”
“Well, I can. And I’m pretty good at it. They totally know I do it, but since there’s no definitive way to prove it without reading my mind, there’s nothing they can do. You would think that opponents wouldn’t join the game, but since they’re all men, they’ve got their fat egos on the table and they’re determined to beat me. Yeah…good luck. This bitch is here to stay.”
“Is this televised?”
“Why? You gonna watch me?”
He gave a slight smile. “I might.”
“You aren’t going out on the town this weekend? Breaking beds and breaking hearts?”
The smile faded, and he looked caught in a compromising position. “I’ll probably be working.”
“God, you’re worse than me. I usually hit the town with my girls on the weekend.”
He shrugged and stepped toward the entrance to the clinic. “See you on Monday.”
“Byyyyyeeee.”
“You’re in Atlantic City this weekend?” Derek asked over the phone.
“Yep.” I held the phone to my ear, watching us approach the terminal. “Just landed.”
“You know Sunday is Father’s Day.”
“Uh, yes. Like I’d forget. I’ll be back.”
“What did you get him?”
“I’m not telling you. You’ll copy me.”
Derek sighed. “Get over yourself. I already have something for him.”
“What?”
“What if you copy me?” he said with a mocking voice.
“I just said I already have a gift.” I looked out the window and felt the plane vibrate when the stairs were secured to the exit of the plane. “Come on, what is it?”
“Alright. You can’t tell him.”
“Like I ever would.”
“Well, I recently finished the new Rover that’s going to Mars…and I named it after him.”
“Aw!” My voice rose above the rest of the sounds on the plane. “That is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my goddamn life.”
“Shh, aren’t you on the plane?”
“Whatever. I don’t care. I’m in first class, and there’re no kids around. Derek, that is so sweet. He’ll love it.”
“Yeah, I think so. So now are you going to tell me what you got?”
“Well, it’s not as good as yours.”
“Obviously.”
I gave a sarcastic laugh. “Wow…jerk.”
“Come on, I’m kidding. He’ll love it.”
“Well, he loves Bear so much that I got him some toys and a special collar.” God, it was lame compared to Derek’s.
“He’ll love that.”
“You have to let me go first.”
He chuckled. “Okay, I will.”
“Well, we’re getting off, so I’ll talk to you when I get back.”
“Okay. Be careful, alright?”
“Psh, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are, big brother.”
8
Atlas
My couch was covered with folders and papers, and my laptop was in my lap. My third beer was on the end table beside me, and in the silence, I caught up on all my paperwork.
This was the least enjoyable part of my job, but it had to be done.
When the beer started to kick in and my mind began to wander, I went to the pay-per-view channel and found the poker tournament Daisy had mentioned. My curiosity couldn’t be sheathed, so I paid the fee and watched the poker match appear on the screen.
Five men.
And Daisy.
The sound of chips was audible in the casino behind them, and each player quickly took their turn, throwing chips into the pile, drawing more cards, taking a drink from their glass, all moving rapidly as if they knew their move far before they made it.
Daisy had a cigar in her mouth, and like she was one of the boys, she pushed her chips into the pile.
She smoked cigars?
She was the most laid-back player in the group, relaxed in her chair, sealing her lips around the butt of the cigar and puffing before she released the smoke in clouds from her mouth. Then she reached for her glass and took a drink, waiting for her opponents to make their moves.
Who the hell was this chick?
The game continued before Daisy paused. She interrupted the flow, puffing on her cigar as she looked at her hand.
My work was ignored now because this was the most interesting thing I’d ever seen.
She pushed all her chips into the center.
The commentary continued, but I ignored it.
The energy at the table changed, the men trying to figure out if this was a bluff—or
if this was legit.
I didn’t have a clue.
Two of the men folded, but the other three pushed their chips forward.
She took it a step further and added even more chips.
Damn. The pot just went to three million.
The men studied her before they met her pot.
“Fuck… Hope that’s not a bluff.” My arm draped over the back of the couch as I gazed at the screen, my hand moving to my beer on the end table.
It was time to drop their cards, and the men displayed them on the table.
Full house.
Two pairs of sixes.
A straight flush.
So, if she didn’t have a royal flush…she would lose millions.
I set down my beer and leaned forward, my arms moving to my knees.
She took her time dropping her cards, the cigar still sitting in her mouth. Then she splayed them on the table—a royal flush.
I grinned. “Damn…”
I didn’t take rest days, so I worked out Saturday morning then went to the clinic afterward. It was empty because no one was there on the weekends—except me. I took on the overflow patients, and since I had other obligations during the week, the weekend was the best time for me to focus.
The folders were on my desk, and I sketched out my notes, a visual person the way Daisy was. I didn’t have my papers pinned to a bulletin board, but it was something I might consider to stay organized.
My phone rang on the desk.
It was Dr. Hamilton.
He was probably at the office today and wanted to discuss something related to our research project.
I answered. “Hello, Dr. Hamilton. Need me to come in? I have time in the late afternoon.”
“No, that’s not necessary, Dr. Beaumont. I’m working at home today. We start our trials next week, and I wanted to discuss a couple things with you. Do you have some time?”
“Yes.”
We talked for a while about our work and the next steps we needed to take to prepare for our human trials. Despite repeating the experiment three times, he decided he wanted to do it again.
“That’s fine with me, Dr. Hamilton. You can never be too certain.”
“I need to give patients hope when I administer treatment, not uncertainty.”
“Absolutely.” And that was why I wanted to work for him. It was never about money, time, or goals. It was about doing the best job possible—day in and day out. “I’ll get started first thing Monday morning.”
“What are you doing today?”
“I’m at the clinic. We had more patients than we could handle, so I took the overflow.”
“Admirable.”
“I enjoy patient care. Nice break from all the paperwork.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“I watched Daisy’s poker game last night.”
“You did?” Instantly, a smile was in his voice. “Did she win?”
“Took the pot.”
“That’s my girl.” His pride was even bigger now, audible in his tone. “I’m glad the two of you worked out your problems. When you’ve got two rams in one place…they tend to lock horns.”
“That’s a good description.” I’d never met anyone like her, someone so brilliant but so combative. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, speak her mind, go head-to-head with anyone who wronged her. Most people were passive and went quiet. She yelled louder so people in the back could hear. I hadn’t liked her before we even met, but I’d quickly started to see why she was universally adored. She wasn’t just smart but had the kind of passion and dedication I hardly ever saw in anyone.
“I’ve got some time. Want to grab something to eat?”
I heard the question but blinked a couple times because I didn’t understand it. Did he just ask me to lunch?
“If you have other priorities, don’t worry about it.”
“No, I can meet you in twenty minutes. Just let me know where.”
He looked the same as he did at the lab, dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt, having lines in the corners of his eyes and a bit around his lips, but still looking like a man in his late thirties. His arms were muscular and tight, cords visible under the skin. He definitely lifted—and I’d imagine on a daily basis.
It was strange to be in this intimate setting with him. He wasn’t a friend or acquaintance.
This was Deacon fucking Hamilton.
I didn’t think we were at the same level. Couldn’t believe he’d taken me on as a research partner. I was smart, having one of the highest IQs on record, but I still felt inferior to him. I didn’t have a Nobel Prize. I didn’t have a company that took on the complicated practices of medicine and cancer treatment. My accomplishments were insignificant compared to his.
He took a drink of his beer before he dragged his fork through his salad.
I’d ordered a salad too because I wasn’t very hungry. “How long has Daisy been a professional poker player?” Sometimes I didn’t know how to talk to people unless it was work-related. It was easier having a shared passion to discuss. But just two people in a bar, it was rough. I had some friends I’d met living in Manhattan, but I still struggled with that sometimes. I never went on dates because that was just torture, no matter how hot the woman was. We had nothing in common, and trying to be relatable to someone with no shared interests was like pulling teeth. One-night stands, that was it for me.
“It started when she was in residency. Needed money for living expenses and wouldn’t accept help from me. It was easy money for her, so she continued to do it. She also enjoys the rush and the intensity of the situation, so it’s addictive for her.”
“Like an adrenaline junkie?”
“A bit. But I know she also enjoys the thrill of handing those men their asses too.”
“I can see that.” I’d experienced it firsthand. “Pretty amazing, the way she can sit there with a cigar in her mouth, a drink in her hand, count cards, and act like she’s barely paying attention.”
His eyes narrowed. “Cigar in her mouth?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. “Sorry, I meant toothpick.”
He stirred his fork around his salad with his eyes down. “So, tell me about yourself. Are you married? Have children?”
It was a weird question, but I just went with it. “Divorced. No kids.”
He nodded. “I was married once before. Have a son from that marriage. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
He took a few bites before he drank his beer.
“Why?”
He shook his head. “Just want to get to know you better.”
No one had ever tried to get to know me better—at least not professionally. Unless it was a woman making a move, but that didn’t happen often because it was inappropriate to be involved with a colleague or mentor. A part of me wondered if he just pitied me because of what I’d told him. Now I wished I hadn’t said anything.
“I have two boys. The younger one is about your age. He’s a heart surgeon.”
“Yeah, I know who Dex is,” I said with a chuckle. “And Derek is a rocket scientist. Really impressive.”
“You and Dex have a lot in common. How about you come over on Sunday, and I’ll introduce you? I think you guys would hit it off pretty well.”
Pain the size of a boulder dropped into my gut. “I appreciate the offer, but I have plans.”
Dr. Hamilton looked at me as if he didn’t believe me.
And he was right—because it was a lie.
“Well, if you change your mind, we’d love to have you.”
I should keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t. “Look, I know what you’re doing, and you don’t need to.”
Dr. Hamilton stilled.
“I wish I hadn’t told you what happened. I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m fine, alright? Yes, it fucking sucks that my entire family was murdered on the goddamn L train because they were visiting me, but don’t do that. Don’t spend time with me because you
think I have no one else.”
Dr. Hamilton maintained his position, one hand on his fork, his dark eyes glued to me.
The voices in the restaurant changed, like they’d all heard my outburst.
I instantly felt like an asshole, yelling at my boss when he was just trying to be nice to me. “I apologize, Dr. Hamilton. I shouldn’t have said that.”
His voice was gentle when it should be angry. “It’s okay. Really.”
I looked away, ashamed of my response.
“But to clarify, that isn’t the reason I invited you.”
I continued to keep my gaze elsewhere because that was bullshit.
“Atlas.”
My eyes shifted back to his, forced by his confidence.
“I’ve taken you under my wing since you started at my company. I wrote that letter of recommendation even though I didn’t want to. Not because I didn’t have a million testaments to your work and your character, but because I didn’t want to lose you as a full-time researcher. This was long before you told me what happened to your family.”
I gave a slight nod in agreement because he was right.
“The reason why I’ve taken you under my wing is because…you remind me of myself at your age. It’s not just your brilliance, which is greater than mine, but what you want to do with it. You want to help people—and most people don’t. For them, it’s about the zeroes on their paycheck. With you, it’s about the patients, about making this world a better place than when you got here.”
I didn’t know what to say, how to respond to all the nice things he’d just said about me.
“I admit…I invited you over because of what you shared with me. But I know what it’s like to lose a parent at a young age, and I thought we could spend the day together—since we both don’t have fathers to honor.”
I was silent, still speechless.
When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “The invitation is always open…if you ever change your mind.”
“I appreciate that. But since I’m Daisy’s boss, I don’t think it’d be a good idea. And I’d rather her not know personal stuff about me. Don’t want her to start being nice to me just because she feels bad for me.”
The Girl Who Doesn't Quit (Soulless Book 12) Page 6