by Wild, Cassie
By the time Maria was out of surgery and in recovery, my shift had finally ended.
I wasn’t leaving the hospital, though.
I’d spent a few furious minutes talking to Anneke over the short lunch period I managed to fit in and had come to a decision.
I was going to corner the hospital’s medical director in his lair and tell him just what kind of jackass he had in charge of the emergency department. It wasn’t a talk I was looking forward to, yet at the same time, I knew if I didn’t address my concerns, I was going to explode.
I lucked out as I approached the door to his office. Normally, his administrative assistant sat on guard there, but there was a small placard on the desk.
Will return shortly.
I walked right by the desk and knocked on the door.
There was a gruff reply, and I pushed inside, even though I hadn’t fully caught the response. It could have been go away, wait a minute, or any number of things.
I wasn’t going away, and I’d waited all day. That was enough.
The white-haired man sitting behind the desk peered at me over the top rim of his glasses, a frown on his face. “I’m expecting an appointment in a few minutes,” he said, checking his watch before looking back at me.
“I’ll make it short,” I said coolly. “I need to address some problems within the ED.”
He frowned and leaned back. “You should start with human resources,” he said.
“I prefer to cut straight to the chase. Dr. Henderson is a sexist control freak, and it needs to be dealt with.”
Dr. Crowley narrowed his eyes and gave me a closer look. “Let me guess…you’re Briar Downing, aren’t you?”
I didn’t bother asking how he knew.
“Henderson’s told me he’s had some problems with you, Briar. You running up here half-cocked to fling about wild accusations and not even bothering to follow the formal complaint process concerns me.”
I gaped at him. “Wild accusations?”
“That’s the only thing I can infer by your lack of concern for following protocol.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll file a formal complaint with HR.”
“You probably shouldn’t bother,” Crowley said, shaking his head. “I’ve already spoken with Henderson. You should know that Dr. Wayne, one of the physicians who sits on our board, has voiced concerns to me at our weekly meeting, and from what I can gather, you seem to be…prone to accusing male doctors of sexism and gender discrimination. This observation will go down on any report you file, and it could cause problems with fellow doctors.”
I couldn’t believe it, and I clamped my teeth together in an attempt to keep the astonishment from my face. “Are you telling me that I’m just supposed to suck it up when fellow doctors demean and insult me?”
“That’s a rather harsh way of looking at it.” But he didn’t disagree with me.
As I stood there, struggling to formulate a response, somebody knocked on the door.
“Dr. Crowley, Wade is here to see you.”
Crowley gave me a dismissive glance. “I think we’ve settled this matter, doctor.”
“No. We haven’t,” I said in a cold voice. “I quit.”
His head whipped back around, and this time, he directed a hard, cold stare at me. “Excuse me?”
“Ah…it looks like I’m interrupting something,” a male voice said from behind me.
I shot a look at the speaker and frowned. I knew him. I hadn’t made the connection when Crowley’s assistant said Wade, but just one look at the man and I knew I was looking at my dad’s golfing buddy—the one who’d suggested the hospital offer me a position.
He blinked in surprise as our gazes connected.
“Dr. Downing,” he said, eyes widening. Something flickered in them, and he glanced back at the medical director, then eased into the room, closing the door behind him. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“I’m handling this, Wade,” Crowley said, his eyes never leaving me.
“There’s nothing to handle,” I said shortly. “I quit. Nothing to handle.”
“Hey, hey…Briar…” Wade approached me, a look of serious concern on his face.
Seeing as how he was friends with my father, I had a good idea just why he was so concerned.
“Quit,” Crowley said with a huff of laughter, unaware of Wade’s concern. “You do that, missy. You’ll find it a lot harder to find a job without a letter of recommendation from this facility. And, trust me, you will not get one.”
I resisted the urge to flip him off. “I’ll manage somehow,” I said in a stiff voice. “I can be resourceful, even if I’m just a girl.”
“Briar,” Wade said, his voice even more concerned now. “Would you give Dr. Crowley and me a moment?”
“You can have all the moments you want with him,” I said, starting for the door.
He stepped in front of me and gave me a beseeching look. “I think I can help smooth things over here, if you just give me a minute.”
“There’s nothing to smooth over,” Crowley barked.
Wade gave me a pained look.
I felt some twinge of sympathy, and in a soft voice, I told him, “Don’t worry so much, Wade. I prefer to handle my problems on my own.”
Something that might have been relief flickered in his eyes, but it was gone quickly. “Would you give me five minutes?”
“No.” I understood what he was asking, and why. But my sympathy only stretched so far. Shaking my head, I added, “There’s no way I’d want to stay here, all things considered.”
I patted his arm as I walked past him.
I hadn’t even closed the door when I heard Wade demand, “Don’t you know who her father is, Bart?”
Despite myself, I couldn’t help but smile.
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it from my pocket to see a text from Anneke. She’d mentioned getting drinks after she was done for the day and was checking to see if we were still on.
We were so definitely on.
I texted her that I needed a few minutes, then I’d be out.
As I made my way to the locker room where my personal things were, I sent out another text, this time to my former mentor, Raisa.
Is that job offer still on the table?
I hadn’t even had a chance to put my phone away before she texted back.
Yes!
Some of the tension melted from my shoulders, and I breathed out a short sigh of relief.
I want it.
Again, her response was rapid-fire fast.
Come in tomorrow afternoon. We’ll get you started. I’ll text you links to the forms you have to fill out before coming on staff.
And just like that, I had another job.
As I was walking to the car, a voice came over the intercom, and I had to laugh. The sound was almost giddy, even to my own ears.
“Dr. Downing, please report to the medical director’s office immediately. Dr. Downing, please report to the medical director’s office immediately…”
Apparently, Wade had somehow convinced Crowley that letting me walk out was a bad, bad idea. But…too fucking bad.
* * *
Clinking my margarita glass against Anneke’s, I grinned at her. “Here’s to freedom.”
“Freedom.” She summoned up a smile. “I’m going to miss having you there. You were the only person who made that place tolerable.”
I covered her free hand with mine. “You’re almost done with your residency. You’ll be free soon too.”
“Not soon enough,” she said with a glum sigh.
We sat in a booth in the back of our favorite spot, a hole in the wall pub that served great margaritas and even better tacos. There were other things on the menu, but I always got the tacos. I had a mess of them in front of me, and as Anneke took a sip of her drink, I selected one deliciously overfilled one and took a healthy bite. My appetite had been off for the past few weeks, something I attributed to stress. Surprisingl
y enough, knowing I wasn’t going to get called in to work an extra shift by that asshole Henderson had restored my appetite, and I was starving.
Anneke only picked at her food, and I nudged her with my elbow. “You know, just because I’m not working at Green Valley doesn’t mean we won’t still hang out.”
“I know.” She gave me a wan smile. “It’s just…” She made a face. “I hate that place.”
I gave an unladylike snort. “Trust me. I understand.”
She took a healthy swallow of her drink. “I know you do.” With a determined smile, she added, “I’m fine. Just pouting a bit. I’ll get over it.”
“Look at it this way…whether I’m there or not, you know you’ll never find a more understanding shoulder than mine when you need to talk and blow off steam.” I tipped my margarita glass at her.
She clinked her drink against mine, a grim smile on her face. “There is that.”
Six
Cormac
The pub was noisy and filled with people dressed in everything from jeans to three-piece suits. Maybe I was wearing a nice pair of jeans and a polo shirt I’d bought just for this, but I felt out of place.
Nobody seemed to be giving me the eye, though.
One thing I’d learned over the years was how to make myself blend, so that even if I felt like I stood out, it was more of an internal feeling than anything else.
I had about as much in common with suit-types as I did with a horse—pretty much nothing.
Still, I didn’t leave.
Making my way to the bar, I spotted an open space. The brunette occupying the seat on the left was cute, talking animatedly to her friend who sat on the woman’s other side.
I paused next to them and waited as first one then the other looked my way. “Is this seat taken?”
The cute one smiled, revealing a dimple. “No. You’re welcome to it.”
Her friend leaned in and murmured something as I settled on the stool. The noise level was enough that I couldn’t hear a word of what the two women said, but almost immediately, the cute one’s gaze came back to me.
“I’m Cormac,” I said.
“Briar. And this is my friend, Anneke.” She gestured to the other woman. I glanced at her and offered a nod just as a server appeared in front of us.
I asked for a menu and a beer. Once the server had moved off, I gave Briar a quick look. “Don’t suppose you can recommend anything, can you? I haven’t been here before.”
As one, the two of them said, “The tacos.”
I laughed and dropped the menu back on the surface of the bar. “I guess I’ll get the tacos.”
Anneke cocked her head. “You’ve got an accent.”
“Me?” I gave them a wry look, very used to this little game. “You two are the ones with accents.”
Briar rolled her eyes. “Where are you from?”
“Miami,” I replied with a slow grin.
“Last I heard, Miamians don’t sound like they came from County Cork.”
I lifted a surprised eyebrow. “Actually, it’s County Adair,” I corrected her. “But I’ve been in the states since I was a kid.”
I was used to being asked about the accent. After so many years in America, the lilt had softened some, and I’d grown used to Yank accents during that time.
The server reappeared with my beer and put it in front of me. “Anything to eat?” she asked.
I ordered the tacos, and once she walked off, I nudged Briar with my arm. “I’m putting myself in your hands. Those tacos better be amazing.”
“They are.” She took a bite from the one she was holding and rolled her eyes in a look of pure bliss. My cock twitched as she moaned her appreciation. “So good,” she added after she swallowed. Her tongue swept out to catch anything she’d missed, and I felt another stir of interest.
The three of us chatted for a while, although Briar was the one who had my attention. She seemed to sense it, and I watched as a light flush settled across her cheekbones.
We finished our food, but to the disgruntlement of several people waiting, none of us made any attempt to move.
“How long have you been here in Philadelphia?” Briar asked.
“Just a couple of days,” I said with a shrug. I grimaced, thinking of the shithole in which I was currently staying. “I’ve got to find some place decent to stay. It’s been more of a hassle than I would have thought.”
They gave me looks of sympathy, and I flashed Briar a wide smile. “You don’t know anybody who rents properties out, do you?”
Her eyes fell away, and she shrugged. “I don’t think I’d be much help there.”
I wanted her to look at me again. I brushed my fingers down her arm, and her eyes came back to mine. Once more, I felt that stir of interest. Okay, it was more than a stir.
“You’ve already been quite a help.”
She cocked a brow. “Have I now?”
I winked. “You recommended the tacos.”
She rolled her eyes and reached for her margarita.
As she lifted it to her lips, I found myself fantasizing about how she’d taste if I were to kiss her just then.
I was betting on tart and sweet, just like the drink she was enjoying.
I found myself craving a taste.
* * *
Later that night, lying on a miserably thin mattress that felt like it was stuffed with rocks and glass, I was still thinking about Briar.
The small apartment over the studio smelled like piss and beer, the stink so strong I ended up opening a window. Cool air wafted through, and slowly, the smell dissipated.
Despite the unpleasantness of my surroundings, I found my mind drifting back to the woman I’d met earlier.
I was lying there with the hard-on from hell, all because of how she’d looked sipping at her margarita.
Maybe I should have made a move on her. She certainly seemed to be attracted to me. There was no doubt I was attracted to her.
But I hadn’t.
Eyes drifting shut, I slid a hand down my belly and under the thin, threadbare sheet to find my cock. I was already aching and hard, and I imagined it was Briar’s hand touching me. Her mouth.
I stroked, slowly at first, then faster as fantasies played through my mind…fantasies of her on her knees in front of me, tending to my cock with the same delicacy she’d shown as she sipped at her drink.
She had a mouth made for sucking cock, I mused. I let myself play with the fantasy, her naked in front of me, running those neatly trimmed nails down my thighs, then back up.
I pumped my fist harder, faster.
Now, I pictured her lying in front of me, thighs spread to show the slick honey that would already be dewing her cunt. I’d lick at her, taste her the same way she’d tasted me. She’d come for me. Would she moan? Would she cry out?
She was a moaner, I already knew from the way she ate.
I could all but hear her low, husky voice as she said my name, just as I made her come.
That was all it took.
I climaxed, ejaculating on my belly and hand.
Heart pounding, I opened my eyes and stared at the water-stained ceiling overhead. Now, I was going to have to crowd into that closet-sized shower.
But it had been worth it.
Seven
Briar
I’d started my orientation just a few short hours earlier, after the quickest hiring process I’d ever experienced. It had been facilitated by Raisa and her direct superior, who told me that Raisa had nothing but glowing recommendations.
I was warned that if anything popped up as the paperwork was processed, it could affect my position, so I advised them of the circumstances under which I’d left Green Valley.
The medical director, Dr. Michael Dues, had studied me over the rim of his glasses in a manner that had reminded me of Dr. Crowley, although the expression in his gaze was something totally different.
“I heard that Larry Henderson had recently taken over the position of med
ical director for the ED there. Is that a fact?”
After confirming his statement, he’d just smiled. “I think everything will be fine, Dr. Downing.”
He’d left shortly after, and Raisa had taken me down to the ED, introducing me to physicians and nurses alike.
For the past hour, I’d been shadowing Dr. Britney Findlay. She took one of the charts waiting for us, but before she could begin flipping through it, somebody called her name.
She went to close the electronic chart but stopped and turned to smile at me. “Why don’t you get started on this one? It should be routine enough. I’ll join you in a minute, and we can get to work on the history.”
“Sure.” I accepted the tablet from her and skimmed the information. MacTavish, C. A male presented to the ER with contusions. I hadn’t yet gotten my credentials so I could chart on my own, but there was no reason I couldn’t go in there and get started on his history.
I pushed back the curtain and stepped inside. A big man with ginger-colored hair lay there, facing away from me. I took the wheeled stool next to the bed.
“Mr. MacTavish?”
Slowly, he turned his head toward me. I managed not to gasp when I saw his face, but it was a close thing.
“Briar?”
I blinked at the sound of his voice, then looked back at the chart.
Shit.
C. MacTavish. Cormac—the seriously hot guy I’d been flirting with at the pub.
We stared at each other in surprise.
“You’re a doctor,” he said. He grimaced and reached up to press the back of his hand to the cut on his lip.
“Yes, I am. And you’re trashed, Cormac. What happened?”
“I got in a fight.” He started to smile—I could see the corners of his lips tugging up. But he stopped the expression, nursing his lower lip again. “You should see the other guy.”
I wasn’t amused and gave him a look that clearly expressed such.
His eyes danced with a mirthful light. “You’re not the one with a bashed-up face and busted ribs. I should be the one scowling, not you.”
