“Yeah, but you have the right experience, and you’re not here to seduce Dr. Cummings.”
My eyes went wide in confusion. Seduce Dr. Cummings? What in the ever-loving fuck?
“So, Melody Marco, is that a yes? Would you like to accept the position?”
Did I really want the position? Probably not.
But did I need money? A thousand times yes. I could only handle having Janet and Bill as roomies for so long.
Was I a little creeped out with how this whole interview process had just gone? Definitely.
But money, Mel. You need money…
I nodded and smiled. “Yes. I would like to accept the position.”
“Fantastic,” she said and shook my hand. “Paul from Human Resources will contact you to discuss benefits and pay and start date,” she informed me and handed me a folder filled to the brim with new-hire information. “He sounds a lot tougher than he actually is, so whatever he offers as your base pay, I’d counter with something at least ten percent higher,” she whispered and winked.
“Uh…okay, thanks.” Was the office manager really giving me tips on how to get more money from the hospital? What in the hell is this place? I thought to myself as I glanced around her office again to make sure there weren’t hidden cameras for some kind of prank show.
But they weren’t there.
And Betty just kept smiling like she’d won the lottery.
“And don’t hesitate to call or email me with any questions that you might have.” Her fingers tapped the folder. “All of my contact information is in that folder.”
As I walked out of Betty’s office, a bit dazed and a lot confused, I couldn’t deny that I’d just experienced the weirdest interview I’d ever attended. I felt like one of the main reasons I’d gotten the job offer was because I hadn’t seen the documentary with Dr. Cummings, and if not having seen the documentary was that important, I only had one question.
What in the hell kind of documentary was it?
Anxiety grated on my nerves like a freshly sharpened knife as I pushed open the door to St. Luke’s Obstetrics and Gynecology that morning. I’d taken over the practice just two short years ago, but I’d seen so many patients, delivered so many babies, it felt like I’d been doing it forever. Coming into the office wasn’t something that normally spiked my blood pressure, however.
But on regular, before the goddamn show mornings, I usually didn’t feel like a social pariah, the death of my sex life with sane women fresh in my mind, and I didn’t know that all of my employees had information lying in wait to use against me.
I knew they did now. Good God, the first episode of the show had been a disaster—like a nightmare I had absolutely no chance of waking up from. So much so, I’d begged off of work for a full week to cry into my ice cream and mourn the death of both my career and all of my favorite places to put my dick.
It hadn’t really helped much. With social media as my constant roommate and a virtual footprint I couldn’t escape, being away from work seemed just as bad as being at it. According to Twitter, women were still interested, but it was the kind of interest that made me feel icky inside. Doctor, patient innuendo. Offers to bang me once, just to say they’d done it. One woman had even offered me a kinky prostate exam.
Though, I doubted the office would actually be a reprieve. It was more like six of one, half dozen of another. Especially since I’d been a moron and waited long enough for the second episode to air as well.
I’ll give you one guess as to how it was, but if your answer isn’t “god-fucking-awful” or “way-way-worse,” you lose.
“Good morning, Dr. Cummings,” Marlene, one of the most seasoned nurses on my staff, a “leftover” from the old practice, sang as soon as the door cleared my face enough to confirm my identity. “Nice of you to join us.”
She was the one I’d been most worried about, a smartass old bag of insults through and through. She’d done it all, seen it all, and if she hadn’t, you’d better pretend she had for fear of her wrath.
“Morning, Marlene,” I called back as casually as I could manage.
She licked her lips, the evil in her eyes lighting in a way I’d only seen once before—in my brother-in-law’s cat. And believe me, Walter was the kind of cat you didn’t want to know, didn’t want to meet, hell, you didn’t even want to think his name.
Shit.
I guess the shit wasn’t going to wait to hit the fan until after I’d had my coffee. And I probably wouldn’t get to have it afterward either. I wasn’t sure I’d even feel like drinking it while covered in feces.
Shit-stained and caffeine deprived. That’d probably make for an interesting day of seeing patients.
But she didn’t say anything about the show as I made my way to the desk and nodded my hellos at the receptionist, Melissa, and Beth, one of the medical assistants who helped with the filing and checkin and check-out of patients when things got really busy.
Instead, in a shocking twist, Marlene seemed interested in if I’d done anything fun during my time off and asked to see a picture of Julia. They hadn’t helped in the delivery of my sister’s baby any more than I had, but they had a skewed sense of extended family all the same. Any babies were their babies, no matter whose babies they actually were.
“Here,” I said, putting my briefcase up on the counter to dig around in it. “This is a picture from Saturday.”
“Oh! How cute!” Marlene mooned. “I used to play naked in the sprinkler all the time when I was little too.”
I tried not to picture it—failed. Except, I wasn’t picturing Marlene as a toddler at all. Oh God.
I forced my thoughts back to my niece. “Yeah. Truth is, you’ll be hard pressed to get a picture of Julie where she isn’t naked. Kline and Gigi haven’t been able to keep clothes on her for anything. Apparently, she even takes her diapers off during her naps.”
Melissa and Beth were quieter than normal. In fact, I could usually barely get a word in edgewise for all their chatting, but they still smiled and peeked at the picture of Julia as if interested, so I let any wondering about why fall away.
As soon as they handed the picture back, I made my way down the hall toward my office.
Okay. That hadn’t gone so badly.
My step got a little lighter, and for the first time in days, the pressure behind my eyes started to ease.
Maybe work wouldn’t be so awful. The show was terrible, but maybe people really weren’t watching, or it didn’t look as bad to those who weren’t seeing themselves look like an idiot. I wasn’t completely sure, but I wasn’t going to do something stupid like look a gift horse in the mouth either.