by K. C. Crowne
“That can happen with cataracts, but there is some good news.”
“Oh? What’s that?” His excitement was measured, reserved.
“We can perform surgery, remove the cataracts.”
The expression on his face that followed was hopelessness. I hadn’t a single doubt he had the cost on his mind.
“I was afraid you’d say something like that. There’s no other option, is there?” He sighed, clasping his hands together and rubbing his thumb over the papery, wrinkled skin of his palm. “I just don’t know how I’d be able to afford something like that.”
I reached over and took his hand. “Well, I’ve got some more good news – I think you’ve forgotten where you are.”
“How do you mean?”
“We’re a free clinic, Don. That means we’ll cover the costs of the surgery.”
He said nothing, his face an expression of disbelief. “Free? How is it free? I’ve been around for long enough to know that everything has a cost, Dr. Bridges.”
“Lola, please. And yes, you’re right – it does have a cost. The thing about this cost, however, is that you’re not the one paying it. This clinic—” I swept my hand toward the office around me “—it’s all funded by donations. And doctors like me volunteer their time to be here. We take care of everything – all you have to do is show up for the appointment.”
He still appeared skeptical, but I could see relief taking hold. “Is that right? I don’t have to pay anything?”
“Not a dime. However, there is something about the surgery that we can’t help you with.”
“And what’s that?”
“For two weeks after, your eyes will be healing. And that means you’re not going be very independent.”
He frowned. “I need someone to take care of me?”
“Exactly. Is there a family member or anyone who can look after you while you heal?”
He smiled and nodded, as if the matter had long been settled. “My granddaughter, Donna,” he said, beaming with more pride. “She’s the one you saw in the picture – she’d be happy to stay over. In fact, she’s in the waiting room now.”
The news warmed my heart. “Then let’s discuss this with her. We can talk about the surgery and what to expect after.”
He shook his head, looking in turns relieved and overwhelmed. “I don’t know what to say, Dr. Bridges. Here I was, thinking I wouldn’t be able to see my great grandson take his first steps. And then…” A single tear formed in his eye, one he quickly wiped away. He cleared his throat, stood up straight, and offered me his hand.
I stood up and gladly took it. “It’s my pleasure. Now, let’s get the details sorted out.”
Don and I went out to the waiting room to meet his granddaughter. I escorted them into my office and discussed the possibilities for surgery, figuring out times and dates. After some discussion, we penciled in a time in a month.
And when they were gone, profuse thank yous mixed in with their goodbyes, I returned to my office with a welling of pride in my heart.
This was why I volunteered. I enjoyed making a good living at Pitt Medical, but there was nothing like being able to help those in need, those who might not normally be able to afford medical care that, in a just world, would be free.
But my happiness was tempered by the reality. Resources at the clinic were limited, and it wasn’t easy finding doctors willing to give their free time to work here. Not to mention the fact that treatment costs money. And we were on short supply of funds.
I sighed, seated in the chair in my office, my mind racing with all that needed to be done. So much was on the line with the meeting on Friday. If we could sell some investors on the idea of funding the clinic, paying for the place to run full-time, then that meant we wouldn’t have to worry about money at all. We’d be able to pay an actual staff, not have to rely on volunteers. And we’d be able to offer as much care as we possibly could. Just the idea was enough to excite me.
I scrolled through my phone, confirming the time in my calendar – tomorrow at two-thirty. I’d be ready.
As I flipped through my phone, I couldn’t help but scroll to messages and see if a certain Irishman had been in touch. Of course, there was nothing – I would’ve gotten a notification if he’d messaged me. I set my phone on my desk, closing my eyes, and just like had happened so many times since that night, images of Patrick and me appeared in my mind.
I imagined him on top of me, my leg pressed against his chest as he drove his cock inside over and over. I pictured us in the parking garage, his hand down my pants as he brought me to orgasm with just his touch. And I thought how damn good it had felt to come that third and final time, his body shuddering as he drained himself.
It was more than enough to make me soaking wet in the office.
Get a grip, Lola. I did my best to focus my thoughts on the work ahead. You’re here to help people, not fantasize about one-night stands. Do that when you’re not on the clock.
I sighed, clicking off my phone and turning my attention back to my schedule. It wasn’t long before my thoughts drifted back to him. I found myself going over all the reasons why he wasn’t worth my time, first of which was that just because he was a good lay didn’t mean I needed to get fixated on him.
Then there was the matter of his job, which I had to admit was an awesome job. Who didn’t have some deep-down fantasy of traveling the world working some amazing creative job? When I was in high school, I’d had this dream of traveling around as a food writer, zipping all over the world and eating the most amazing cuisines the world had to offer. I’d put that dream aside when medicine had captured my attention and interest.
There was also the matter of the lifestyle that Patrick’s career afforded. He’d told me that he didn’t even have a place to call his own. I didn’t care about dating some wealthy guy since I made my own money, but I wasn’t exactly in the market for a man who lived out of hotels, either. I liked having a home. I liked having roots.
A man like him most certainly wasn’t into that. He’d said so himself that night.
Still, maybe I’d been too harsh in shutting him down the other night. One-night stands weren’t a regular part of my routine, of course, but when they did happen, I wasn’t all that into the guy sleeping over. It was too intimate.
So, no sleepovers. And, judging by the looks of things, no more Patrick.
I hated to admit to myself that it bothered me more than it should.
That Friday, I was ready.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my apartment, a small smile of pride on my face at the professional air I had obtained. I wore a black pantsuit with white piping on the jacket, a powder blue button-up underneath. My hair was in a sleek bun, tendrils on both sides dangling next to my ears to make the style a touch less severe. My makeup was minimal, with a bit of light red lipstick and black eyeliner. A pair of black pumps completed the look.
I didn’t care much for dressing up, but it was fun every now and then. And most importantly, I looked like a woman who knew what she wanted. And that afternoon, what I wanted were some damn investors.
And I was going to get them.
My phone lit up with a text from Duncan letting me know that the investors would be arriving at his office within the hour. I replied, informing him that I was just about to leave. It was time to secure some money.
Duncan’s offices – the headquarters for Pitt Medical – were in downtown Denver, about twenty minutes from my condo. The day was clear and sunny, the snow from the last few nights not yet gray and slushy from traffic. It was a bright day full of promise. I was ready to put the silly little fixation on Patrick and the night we’d spent together out of my mind, never to give it a second thought.
Pitt Medical had spent the last few years expanding like crazy, and its new offices reflected what a massive medical empire the organization had become. What had started in small office in the Denver suburbs had become huge – a healthcare company that emp
loyed thousands and whose headquarters were in the one the tallest skyscrapers downtown. I was so happy to be a part of it all.
I strode through the lobby, taking the elevator up to the executive suites on the thirtieth floor. The doors opened to reveal a huge office complex with sun pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Men and women in sharp suits zipped here and there with purposeful strides.
I spotted Duncan standing near the conference rooms. The man was dressed in a sharp, navy suit with his hair slicked back. He might’ve been one of the best doctors in the country, but at that moment he looked like a total executive professional. He was in the middle of a conversation with another tall, handsome doctor, a man in a grey suit, his hair short and sandy colored. I approached, and Duncan broke his eyes from the man. He placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, made a one second gesture, then headed my way.
“Lola,” he said, extending his hand for a shake. “So glad to see you.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, Dr. Pitt.”
He swept his hand through the air. “Please – Duncan.”
I smiled. “It’s good to see you, Duncan.”
“Much better.” Hs smile was as warm as they came. He pointed his hand, palm-upturned, toward the man with whom he’d been speaking. “Lola, I’d like you to meet Dr. Ryan Anderson. He’s one of the best OB/GYNs in the state, and one of the newest members of the team. Dr. Anderson, this is Dr. Lola Bridges, the ace ophthalmologist I’ve been telling you about.”
We shook hands, and Dr. Anderson flashed me a charming smile. “Your reputation precedes you, Dr. Bridges.” His accent was distinctly New Zealand and his handshake was firm and friendly.
“Is that right?” I asked. “Pleasure to meet you. And welcome to the team.”
“Looking forward to working with you.”
“Now,” Duncan said. “We’ve got a few investors waiting for us– Finn’s keeping them company for the time being. If we can manage to convince them to get on board with our plans for the clinic, then we’re set. Now, you to do this?”
“Ready,” I said, total confidence in my voice.
Dr. Anderson nodded, silently giving his assent.
“Then let’s go fund us a free clinic.”
Duncan stepped toward the large double doors of the conference room, opening and holding them for Ryan and me.
I was all confidence and self-assurance as I stepped into the conference room. With its sweeping view of the city and long, twenty-four-person table, the room suited a space used to million-dollar deals. I soaked up the view of Denver before turning my attention to the group waiting for us – a handful of doctors along with the three potential investors.
I noticed pair of loud, Irish-accented voices among the conversation. One of them was Dr. O’Conner. And when I realized who the other voice belonged to, it was all I could do to not let my jaw hit the floor in surprise.
Patrick.
I mustered all the restraint I had to not blurt out the question that immediately formed in my mind – what the hell is he doing here?
Patrick was all smiles as he and the rest of the group looked at us. They rose, and I saw that he was dressed in a sharp, immaculately fitting dark suit, a pair of chestnut-colored wingtip shoes on his feet. The man cleaned up well. Just the sight of him dressed like that was enough to get me wet. And it wasn’t just his suit that caught my attention – he also wore a pair of gunmetal-framed glasses.
“Well, well, well,” he said, coming over to say hello. “If it’s not the good doctor herself.”
Duncan seemed surprised. “You two know each other?”
“Of course we do,” he said, smirking.
My heart skipped a beat as I imagined him saying something that would most definitely not be appropriate for a setting like that.
Instead, he tapped his frames. “Dr. Bridges is the reason I can see worth a damn right now. Pleasure to see you again, Doc.”
He placed his hand before me, and I took it. Relief washed over me as I realized he had the good sense not to blab about what had happened between us. I glanced at Finn, and if he knew what had happened between his brother and me, he wasn’t showing it.
“Good to see you again too, Mr. O’Conner,” I replied, shaking his head. “The new frames suit you.”
“They’re the least of what I have to thank you for, Dr. Bridges.” He followed this with a wink, one that made my heart thump hard in my chest – more at the fear of being found out than anything else. But all the other doctors and investors were too busy making introductions to notice the innuendo.
And good thing – Patrick’s words made my face burn. I hated blushing; I felt like it revealed too much of what I was feeling. Nothing to do about that but wait for it to fade.
But seriously – what the hell was Patrick doing there? No way he could be one of the investors…
“So,” Finn said once we were all seated, steaming cups of coffee all around. “I’m sure all the investors are eager to hear what we’ve got in mind. My brother was especially eager to know what Dr. Bridges has planned for the clinic.”
So he did have money to invest, and more than that, he wanted to invest it in a good cause.
The situation was getting stranger by the second.
I rose, a small, professional smile on my face. “Then I’ll be happy to inform him, along with the rest of the investors who were kind enough to give us their consideration. So, without further ado…”
Chapter 9
PATRICK
I would’ve been lying if I said I hadn’t been looking forward to the surprise, but Lola was nothing but professional. Aside from the cute-as-hell way she’d blushed at my little crack, she’d given no indication that we’d done more than just a simple eye exam.
On top of it all, I’d been curious to learn how she’d react to the fact that I had more than a little bit of money to my name. She hadn’t struck me as the sort to be overly concerned with that sort of thing, but I had to wonder if part of the reason she’d been so eager to toss me out was because she’d assumed I only spent my money on luxuries like nice hotel suites and not philanthropic ventures.
I’d have to learn all that later. For the moment, I was eager to see her present.
“The Wellbrook Clinic is a Denver institution,” she spoke, clicking through her presentation on her laptop. “One of the most trusted names in low-income care in the city. But it’s fallen on hard times. Only through volunteer efforts by several of the doctors associated with Pitt Medical has it been able to stay open.”
Lola had killer poise, amazing professionalism. As I watched her speak, I somehow managed to forget who that she and I were more than two people together in a conference room. I’d been excited about the investment before, about doing some real good in the world with my money, but as she finished her presentation, all I wanted was to shove handfuls of cash in her direction.
“And it’s more than just one clinic,” she continued, reaching forward to close her laptop. “Having a reliable institution in the area would be invaluable in maintaining the stability of a lower-income community. Wellbrook Clinic would be an anchor, a place people could rely on, rather than just another outreach program doomed to failure. With your help, we can provide an essential service to those who would otherwise be unable to afford it.” She smiled. “Thank you all so much, and I’m happy to field any questions.”
I didn’t have any – I was sold. The other two investors had come ready with plenty of questions, both seeming more concerned with how they could parlay their investment into the clinic into wider philanthropic endeavors. More specifically, how they could get their names out there as big-time Denver philanthropists. One even asked about a potential name change – to his name, of course.
When the meeting was over there were more handshakes and thank-yous all around. Dr. Anderson and one of the other doctors who’d attended left with the other two investors, leaving Duncan and Finn and me alone with Lola.
“Say, Dr. Br
idges,” I said. “You mind if bend your ear for a few moments?”
She glanced at me, surprised. And that fucking adorable-as-hell blush returned to her cheeks. “Pardon?”
“Just a few minutes to discuss some matters. Shouldn’t take much of your time at all.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Duncan and Finn watching the two of us chat. They glanced at one another with the same knowing look. Lola saw it as well, and her face turned an even deeper shade of red. Finn chuckled to himself, which didn’t help matters.
“Take the room,” Duncan offered. “And all the time you need.”
The guys shared one more knowing look before heading out. Finn glanced back at me, and I shot him the bird as he and Duncan left – making sure that Lola was looking in the other direction. Once the doors were shut and they were gone, Lola pointed in their direction.
“OK, do not tell me that those guys know what happened between us the other night and they’re chuckling about it. That’s my boss, Patrick, and I don’t want my sex life on—”
I had to admit, just saying the word “sex” was more than enough for my cock to shift in my slacks.
“Easy, easy,” I said, raising my palms. “Don’t worry – I didn’t blab to your boss or my brother about what happened.”
She regarded me with skepticism. “Then why were they tittering like a couple of schoolgirls at the idea of us talking?”
“Probably because they know me, and they know that I’ll probably flirt with you. You look damn gorgeous, by the way.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You promise you didn’t say anything?”
“I promise. I wouldn’t do you like that, love.” I was telling the truth, of course. But Finn was my brother. I had to wonder if he might have suspected something.
She sighed, appearing to believe me. Lola took a seat on the edge of the table, and damn, did she look fine. For a moment, all I could think about was locking the conference room door, bending her over that table, and giving it to her as good as I had the other night.
