by Whitney G.
I slowly turned around and gasped when I saw the man who’d just spoken. Hands down, the sexiest man I’d ever seen in my life, he instantly made me think of sex. His bright blue eyes were gleaming beneath the lobby’s fluorescent lights, and he was teasingly running a hand through his short black hair — as if he was reading my mind.
Over a grey V-neck shirt, he was wearing his white coat — putting every doctor who’d ever worn one to utter shame with the way the fabric slightly clung to his muscles.
“I was just telling our new resident, Dr. Natalie Madison, that you and Dr. Laurel were the only doctors she had yet to meet,” Emily said. “Glad we’re down to only one now, but I’m not holding my breath on Dr. Laurel anytime soon.” She looked at me. “Thanks for coming in, Natalie. I’ll go get your coat.”
She walked away, leaving me alone with Dr. Ashton.
Doctors aren’t supposed to be this sexy ... There’s no way this man is a ‘real’ doctor ...
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Madison,” he said, extending his hand.
“Nice to meet you as well, Dr. Ashton.” I couldn’t stop staring at him if I tried, and by the way his lips were curving into a sinful smile, I was sure he could tell.
“Did Emily show you my office?” His fingers slightly caressed my palm, setting my skin on fire with a simple touch.
“No, I believe your door was closed when we walked by earlier.”
“It shouldn’t have been.” He slowly let my hand go. “Please accept my apologies.”
I nodded. The way he was looking at me right now made me wish I’d actually worn panties.
“Would you like me to show you my office right now? Personally?”
Hell yes ... “No. I um ... I actually need to be on my way out. I have somewhere to be soon.”
He looked me up and down, his lips slowly parting as he took in my dress. “Does this ‘somewhere’ involve a boyfriend?”
I started to explain that it was some random guy I’d befriended online months ago, but I stopped myself. He didn’t really care where I was about to go, and I needed to put an end to this foolish boss-employee fantasy before it could begin. “Yes. It’s a boyfriend, a very long-term and serious boyfriend.”
“Well, I’m very sorry to hear that.” He smiled again when Emily returned with my coat. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Dr. Madison.”
“Looking forward to working with you as well, Dr. Ashton.”
THE RESIDENT
New York, New York
Natalie
“This man is your boss?” Shannon, stared at Dr. Ashton’s professional picture on the Park Avenue Group website as we shared the backseat of a cab. “Are you shitting me right now?”
“I wish.” I’d done nothing but fantasize about the possibility of his lips touching mine since the moment I left the private practice. I’d incessantly replayed the way he looked me up and down, the way he caressed my hand, and I was now cursing myself for not taking him up on his offer of that personal office tour. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered how I was going to be able to get any work done around him.
How do any of the women there work when he’s around?
“Well, you’ll have to keep me posted on everything that happens when you officially start there.” Shannon returned my phone to me and looked outside her window. “You think there’s a chance this D-DOCTOR guy will be halfway as hot as your boss?”
“Doubt it.” I looked at Dr. Ashton’s sexy picture one last time and closed the screen. “But I think the sex with him will be amazing.”
“Let’s hope so. Remind me why you begged me to accompany you on your date tonight. Are you that nervous?”
“I’m not asking you to accompany me,” I said. “I just need you to go inside the restaurant first, look for his table, and just call and tell me what he looks like, so I’ll be prepared if he’s not as cute as I hope he is. Oh, and I’ll also need you to confirm that he doesn’t give off any serial killer vibes.”
“In that case, I’ll just walk right up to him and ask when was the last time he murdered someone,” she said flatly. “Will that work for you?”
“Actually, yes. That’s perfect. Can you do that?”
“No.” She laughed and the cab stopped right in front of Per Se a few seconds later.
I followed her out, taking a seat on a bench that belonged to the café next door.
“In all seriousness,” Shannon said, “Are you sure you just don’t want to go in and meet him for yourself and just have me watch you guys from afar? I think that’s how most people usually do these things ...”
“I’m sure. I want you to check him out first.”
“Okay, then.” She shrugged and made her way up the steps, skipping everyone in line with relative ease.
Minutes later, she called my phone.
“Yeah?” I answered. “Do you see him?”
“Not yet, but wow ... This place really is nice. How come we’ve never booked a reservation here for ourselves?” She paused. “Never mind. I just glanced at the menu. Three hundred twenty-five dollars for the chef’s special? Per person? These people are out of their damn minds ...”
“It’s a five-star restaurant, Shannon.”
“Right ... Which table did D-DOCTOR say he’d be waiting for you again?”
“Twelve.”
“Okay, that’s in the back.” She paused for a while and I heard the sound of several glasses clink in the background. “I think I see him. He’s looking at his phone.”
“Is he attractive?”
“I can’t tell yet, but he’s clenching his jaw for some reason. He also fills out a suit quite nicely.”
As if she could already tell what was running through my mind, she didn’t give me a single second to ask another question before listing out the details.
“His suit is dark grey,” she said. “And it looks like its custom-made. From the way it fits his body, I’m pretty sure he has to work out. Also, blue silk tie — designer probably, sparkling silver cufflinks, and perfectly shined leather wingtip shoes. Is this the part where I walk up to him and ask if he’s a serial killer?”
“No, but I appreciate the fact that you remembered.” I let out a sigh of relief, feeling hopeful that one of the men I’d met online might finally live up to all our conversations. I started to head into the restaurant, ready to tell Shannon she could hang up, but I heard her suck in a deep breath and stopped dead in my tracks.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Shan, are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” Her voice was low. “He just looked up at me.”
“Okay, well ...” I stepped into the restroom instead of moving into the dining room. “What does he look like?”
“He’s sexy as fuck.”
“You can do better than that. Describe him.”
“Um ...” She sighed, never a good sign. “He’s got jet black hair, deep blue eyes, and he got that whole ‘I can make you pregnant with one look’ thing going on.”
“And on a scale of one to ten?” I glanced at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, adjusting the top of my dress one last time. “What is he?”
“He’s a goddamn fifty,” she said. “But you know, he kind of reminds me of that picture of your boss you showed me on the way here.”
“Dr. Ashton?” I rolled my eyes. “Please. I don’t have to deal with seeing him again until I start my residency.”
“Well, if you’re not interested in seeing your boss until you start your residency, stay outside because I’ve walked past him five times and I’m pretty sure the guy you call D-DOCTOR is Dr. Ashton.”
What the fuck? I stepped out of the restroom and slowly made my way to the dining room, grabbing a menu and holding it up to my face as I walked to the backroom.
I stepped behind a floral display as he looked up again, as he checked his watch and clenched his jaw.
Oh. My. Fucking. God ...
I didn’t want to believe it,
but it was undoubtedly him. And all of sudden, everything he’d messaged me about over the past few months added up and made perfect sense. The late night claims of reading over his nurses’ reports, the need to correct me with “I’m a fucking doctor” each time I jokingly called him a “maybe intern,” and the very username D-DOCTOR itself.
He wasn’t making anything up at all ...
“I can’t do this.” I whispered into the phone. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
“Go over there and have a laugh with him about this since you just saw each other a couple hours ago. That’s what I would do.”
I contemplated that scenario for all of two seconds before shooting down the idea. I’d told this man my filthiest fantasies, casually told him about my desire to be fucked until I couldn’t breathe, and I was not about to let him know that the same woman who once told him all the ways I used my vibrator was his new resident.
I watched him for a few more minutes — partly unable to turn away from how sexy he was, partly still in utter disbelief. When he looked down at his watch again, I turned around and quickly walked away.
“Let’s go, Shannon,” I said. “We’re leaving.” I ended the call and made my way outside. I paced the sidewalk as I contemplated my next move, and then I felt my phone vibrating in my hands. Dr. Ashton.
I stared at my phone’s screen as it rang, as it finally went to voicemail.
He called again.
And again.
Shit ...
I hovered my finger over the ignore button, tempted to let this night die and act as if I’d never met him at all, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hello. Did you forget about meeting me tonight?”
“Not at all ...”
“Then should I assume that you’re running late?”
God, his voice ... “No, um. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry for what?”
“That I can’t — That I’m not coming to meet you tonight.”
He was silent for several seconds. “I think I deserve an explanation from you, at the very least.”
“I just can’t come,” I said, swallowing. “But I want you to know that I have a really good reason for not showing up. I promise.”
“Then tell me what that goddamn reason is, since you’re doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t do by standing me up.”
“You just have to believe me on this ... It’s a really good reason.”
“I see.” His voice was tight. “I would’ve appreciated you calling me and letting me know that you were planning all along to waste my time — especially after all these months that we’ve messaged each other online. I would’ve appreciated you doing that before I got here and spent over thirty minutes waiting on you.”
“I am so sorry.” I moved away from the entrance once I saw Shannon walking down the steps. “I really didn’t plan on standing you up tonight until the last minute.”
“You decided this shit at the last minute?”
“Yes, but ... There’s no reason why we still can’t continue messaging each other online after this. Maybe that’s where this should’ve stayed anyway. We can still be friends, right?”
He hung up in my face.
TWO WEEKS LATER...
THE DOCTOR
New York, New York
Garrett
Subject: New York Times Review ...
Dr. Ashton, please read the attached five-star review of your services from one of my regular patients, a Miss Rachel Aberdeen. Pay special heed to the parts where she says that although you neglected to “properly address her breasts” and that you “have quite a mouth for sarcasm” that she swears you’re the only man outside of her husband that she trusts with her “most prized private part.”
I truly appreciate you taking care of my patients while I’m away :-)
—Dr. Laurel
I rolled my eyes and deleted her email, not bothering to open the attachment. I didn’t need to, since almost every staff member on this floor had taken it upon themselves to slip the hardcopy version underneath my door.
Any other time, I might’ve responded with something sarcastic, but I was completely off my game and I was certain that JERSEYGIRL7 was to blame.
Ever since the night she stood me up at Per Se, I was more irritable and annoyed than usual. I’d never been stood up a day in my life, and I’d honestly been looking forward to meeting her and doing everything possible to bring every filthy fantasy she’d told me about to life.
When she told me she wasn’t coming, I immediately deleted her phone number and blocked her on NewYorkMinute — although I did keep the archive of our never-ending message threads. I’d also tried to set up a quick replacement date with several other women, but it was all to no avail.
I couldn’t find anyone who matched with me more than fifty percent on NewYorkMinute, and the few women who did catch my eye at the bar over the past weekends, couldn’t hold a conversation to save their lives. They didn’t have shit on the level of sarcasm and wittiness that I enjoyed from JERSEYGIRL7.
Maybe I shouldn’t have deleted her number so soon ...
“Dr. Ashton?” A soft voice suddenly pulled me out of my thoughts and I looked up, seeing the newest addition to the staff: Natalie. With her white coat hanging wide open, she was wearing a bright red dress that clung to her hips in all the right ways and exposed the top part of her breasts. Her eyes were a stunning shade of green, and her long, auburn hair was falling down past her shoulders in a bevy of large curls.
You working with me is going to be a problem, and I definitely need to keep you away from me ...
“How can I help you, Dr. Madison?” I said, holding back a groan, as she slipped the tip of a pen between her perfect, pink lips.
“I was told that I was to report to you for the first few months of my residency here, while they finish sorting out some of the final specifics,” she said. “So, where do you want me this morning?”
On top of my desk ...
“We weren’t supposed to take on new residents until we opened our expansion location down the street,” I said. “So, since you somehow managed to slip in before then, you’ll share an office with me for now.” I pointed to the new chrome desk on the far side of the room.
I was pretty sure I never agreed to sharing my office with anyone, and that the number one board member should never be subjected to something like this, but when the doctors all agreed that I would never, ever have to work with another resident after this, I caved in for the better.
“Is there anything you need from me, Dr. Madison?”
“Actually, would you mind walking me through the Weisman file and assignment I received in my email this morning?” She clicked her pen. “I’ve never dealt with a patient with that condition before and I can’t read some of the scanned handwriting on the session sheet.”
“Sure,” I made a mental note to write neater over the next few months. “I’ll go over it with you in about ten minutes.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and walked over to the new desk, her bright red heels clicking across my marble floors and it took everything in me to act like a complete professional and not utter a word about how sexy she was. This was only my second time being around her and she’d managed to make me ten times more aroused than when I’d first seen her at the end of her tour. I was already ten times more drawn to her than any other woman I’d ever met.
Thankfully, she was a complete professional for the rest of the day, and that made it somewhat easier for me to follow suit. I patiently answered all of her well-researched questions, let her sit in a therapy session with a client who didn’t mind, and even offered to treat her to a light dinner at the end of the day.
She declined.
So, I offered to do the same thing on her second day.
She declined again. Then she declined for the next four working days in a row, so I didn’t go for a fifth.
&nb
sp; Still, as the first days of her residency played out, I realized just how much I actually needed the additional help, just how beneficial having someone else at my side was. (Although, I would never admit this to the other doctors. Their twelve to one vote was still bullshit.)
It didn’t hit me until the second week of the residency, that something about Natalie was completely off. At least, to me.
Even though I made sure to keep my incessant thoughts of bending her over my chaise or taking her against my window at the back of my mind, anytime I attempted to make basic small talk with her, she changed the subject. As if she was incapable of even addressing the weather or accepting my suggestion of trying NewYorkMinute if she wanted to meet new people outside of the practice. If I happened to walk into the break lounge when she was sitting alone, she would simply smile at me, get up, and immediately leave.
She went out of her way to make sure that we were never alone together, unless we were in my office, and I honestly wanted to pull her to the side and tell her to relax. Sexy as hell or not, I doubted I would ever sleep with someone I worked with. I’d long considered that to be out of the question, and she wouldn’t be an exception.
I allowed another full week to go by while witnessing her strange behavior and vowed to ask her what was wrong the following Monday when she came in.
“Dr. Ashton!” Emily called me from the reception desk long after Natalie left for the weekend. “Dr. Ashton!”
I groaned and headed out to the main desk. “Yes? Are the office phones not working anymore?”
“They are, but three insurance representatives have me on hold via those lines right now, so I had no choice.” She pointed to her desk phone. “Anyway, Natalie just called me from a payphone, panicking. She thinks she left her cell-phone in your office. Can you call it and check for me?”
“Sure.” I started to head back toward my office, but I stopped and turned around. “I don’t have her cell phone number.”
“Ah, right.” She scribbled it down on a yellow post-it, just as an insurer returned to the call.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed the number, walking to my office. The second I stepped inside, I heard it vibrating and spotted it hiding beneath a stack of folders.
