Page 8 of Not My Finest Hour

Feeling awkward and more than a little exposed, I pull the gown tighter around myself and focus my attention back toward Dr. Tarlton. I smile pleasantly to hopefully give off an air of confidence. I don’t want to let it show that I’m uncomfortable as all get-out with Justin being in the room. Dr. Tarlton is very perceptive and might pick up on something that I don’t want to disclose.

“Dahlia, this is Dr. Alder,” Dr. Tarlton says as Justin reaches out to shake my hand. Our eyes lock as he takes my hand in his, and there’s so much his eyes are saying right now. It’s as though he’s pleading with me not to let anything slip. Our handshake lasts a touch longer than necessary, and Justin gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

“Pleased to meet you,” Justin says.

“Nice to meet you too,” I reply.

Dr. Tarlton looks over at Justin like a father who’s proud of his son. “Dr. Alder was at the top of his class in med school. He’s also very kind and has a good bedside manner. He’s going to be a great addition to our team here.”

A grin spreads across my face because Justin’s cheeks are a little redder than before. I think it’s sweet that he’s embarrassed by Dr. Tarlton speaking so highly of him.

This whole interaction feels so normal; it’s like we’re being introduced at a party or some kind of social function. I can almost forget that I’m completely naked and covered only by a very thin hospital gown. But then I shift on the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath me, giving me a verbal reminder that I’m still at the doctor’s office and the uncomfortable part has yet to begin.

“Thank you. I appreciate your kind words,” Justin replies. He looks down at his watch and it looks like he’s checking a text message. “Dr. Tarlton, I’m so sorry. It’s my mother, and she usually only texts me during working hours if it’s urgent. I’m worried that something might’ve happened. Do you mind if I step out and see what’s going on?”

“You should definitely go and check it out. I hope it’s nothing serious,” Dr. Tarlton says.

Justin nods. “Thank you. Go ahead and proceed with the exam. I’m not sure how long I’ll be, and I don’t want to put us behind,” he says, then turns toward me. “Dahlia, it was nice to meet you.”

Oh, thank goodness. I’m going to be spared having to bareeverythingto Justin. I don’t doubt that he’d be professional about the whole thing, but I really didn’t want him to look at me in such a clinical way.

Right before Justin leaves, I catch his gaze and he throws me a wink. I understand now. There’s no family emergency. I guess I’m not the only one who doesn’t want him to sit in on the exam.

Once Justin is out of the room, Dr. Tarlton trains his gaze on me. “I suppose we should get started so you can get to work on time.”

ChapterFour

Idon’t make it to work on time. In fact, I’m almost an hour late when I pull into the parking lot. My boss already knew I was running behind because I texted her right before I left the clinic, but that meant that in my absence, the she-witch had to fill in for me. And when I walk into the office, there she is, sitting right at my desk.

“Dahlia, you finally made it,” she says, her voice carrying a razor-sharp edge to it. She gives me the barest hint of a smile, and makes no attempt to hide her eye roll as she focuses her attention back on the computer screen in front of her. It’s a power move for her. She only wants to give me attention for as short a time as possible to let me know that she’s the one in control here.

Alexis Weller is a licensed massage therapist who’s been working at our office for the past six months. I don’t know how she ever got hired here because she’s been a bitch to me since day one. She’s very passive-aggressive, and loves to say things like, “I’m not sure if this is something you can handle, but I’d like for you to do this.” And then she’ll give me whatever task she wants done. Anytime she interacts with me, she talks down to me like I’m beneath her. She doesn’t talk this way to my boss which, I’m assuming, is the only reason she ever got past the door. I brought up my concerns with Alexis to my boss once, but she’s never been caught in the act, so it never went anywhere. If it weren’t for her bad attitude, with her delicate features and stick-straight, caramel-colored hair, I might actually think she was pretty. But as it is, she’s the most hideous thing to ever walk this planet.

“Thanks for filling in for me. My appointment ran later than expected,” I say, trying to be the bigger person. I will not stoop to her level—at least not to her face.

“Clearly.” She swivels in her chair and stands, towering a good six inches above me. “Now I can actually get some work done.” She retreats to her cave, a little room at the end of the hall.

I don’t know what work she’s talking about. Her first appointment isn’t for another hour. Then again, I don’t know what she does back there when she doesn’t have appointments. Maybe she’s working on a spell to get rid of me.

I sit down in my chair, the seat barely warm, leading me to believe that there’s definitely ice in those veins of hers. Or maybe she hasn’t been sitting up here as long as she lets on. After an hour of answering the phone, booking appointments, and greeting guests, my boss finally has a moment to see me.

“Dahlia, I’m so sorry I didn’t get to speak to you earlier, but it’s been a busy morning. How was your appointment? Everything go okay?” Dr. Waters looks at me genuinely, waiting for my response.

Dr. Kim Waters was a lifeline for me about eighteen months ago when I needed a better-paying job. The entry-level marketing job I got straight out of college was going nowhere fast, and I had to get out. I tried applying for other marketing jobs, but it seemed like Seattle was inundated with a lot of well-qualified candidates who had far better resumes than I did. Out of all the interviews I had (I stopped keeping track after twenty), I didn’t get a single callback, let alone a job offer. So I started looking for other ways to make money, which included being a rideshare driver, a food delivery driver, and I even thought about donating plasma. But all of those couldn’t offer me a steady paycheck, making them unviable long-term. That’s when I decided to forget about marketing jobs for the time being and focus on something that would pay well enough to make ends meet with a little extra for fun. That’s how I ended up here. Kim (she prefers me to call her by her first name) and I got along so well, I couldn’t wait to get started. This may not be the best job for marketing experience, but I’m enjoying my time here.

“Everything went well. Thanks for asking. Did things go okay here? I’m sorry for being so late.”

Kim waves me off. “Don’t worry about it. Alexis was able to manage the phones for the short time you were away.”

“Good. I’m glad she was here to fill in,” I say, being the bigger person yet again.

Kim drums her fingers on my desk, a move I now associate with her asking me to do something for her. Usually, she does this when it’s something that’s outside of my normal job description. She always pays me overtime when something like this comes up, so I never mind when she asks. “Dahlia, do you have plans tomorrow night?”

I pretend to think about it to give the impression that my social life is riveting. If watching British dramas with Fern, and sometimes Brett, until late at night counts as plans, then my answer would always be yes. “No, I can’t think of anything.”

“Good. I need you to fill in for me tomorrow. We’re having dinner to celebrate my mother-in-law’s birthday, but there’s also a seminar on the benefits of chiropractic care during pregnancy that sounds like it’s going to be a good one. Obviously, I can’t be in two places at once, so could you go to the seminar for me and take notes? You’d be paid overtime, of course.”

I smile as the dollar signs pile up in my mind. “I’d love to go. Send me the details, and I’ll make sure I’m there.”

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