Page 10 of The Bitter Rival

“Well, I’m used to arrogant surgeons, but this guy…” Erin shakes her head, her face still reddened by her lingering anger. “One of the surgical assistants didn’t hand him a piece of equipment the right way, and it fell on the floor. You would’ve thought they threw it at him, the way he reacted. Hell, she didn’t do it on purpose. From then on, no one could do anything to his satisfaction.”

“Man, he sounds like a real treat,” I mutter.

“Yeah. I’ll say. At least he didn’t single me out or anything. I mean, he was an equal opportunity offender. He pretty much sneered or barked at everyone in his path. Afterward, I heard some of the nurses talking about how they put up with him because he’s such a gifted surgeon. Well, and because he’s hot as fuck.”

My ears perk up at this. Maybe it was just Erin dropping the F-bomb. I don’t normally find even the most handsome men attractive if they display behavior similar to the picture Erin just painted. I’ve been divorced by one of the worst of them. A handsome, skilled cardiologist who went from high school sweetheart to cold as ice asshole in a matter of years. Rick could come crawling back on his hands and knees, and I wouldn’t care less. Burn me like that once, and I’m not dumb enough to let you into my world again.

“Hot or not, I wouldn’t want anything to do with a guy like that,” I blurt. The memory of my ex-husband’s flat dismissal is now fresh in my mind. I can still hear him telling me he was leaving becausehe can’t do this anymore.I hear a groan escape my lips and realize everyone is looking in my direction. “What? I find that behavior completely repugnant.”

“I’m with you, Isabella. But unfortunately, it’s part of the job. You’ll run into physicians and surgeons in this line of work with a God complex. You have to ignore it, do your job, and stay out of their way. It sucks, but it’s the reality of the situation. They make this hospital a shit load of money. No one’s ever going to do more than slap them on the wrist for treating people that way.”

“I can’t believe in this day and age Human Resources can’t put a stop to that kind of behavior,” I rebuff, shaking my head.

“I think they have to choose their battles carefully. If it’s sexual harassment or something that clearly crosses the line of professionalism, they’ll pursue it,” Jeff adds.

“Well, they’ll never get Lee on sexual harassment,” Erin interjects.

“Why is that?” I ask, baffled.

“Hell, have you seen him? I can’t imagine a woman alive that would turn him down. Whatever he offers, they’ll easily take.”

“Not me. I don’t care what the guy looks like. No one’s going to treat me like a second-class citizen in the OR and think I’m going to bow down to him once the gloves come off.”

This conversation has me more determined than ever to focus on completing my education and avoiding temptation. If I could manage to get another rendezvous like I had with my dirty talking one-night stand, I could probably avoid the whole lot of them. I’m too old for shenanigans. I’m going after what I want and avoiding the rest. I have commitments that need my undivided attention.

“You coming out with us tonight, Isabella?” Mike asks from the doorway.

“Nah, I asked her already,” Jeff answers.

“Sorry, guys. I can’t do a lot of spur-of-the-moment activities. But I’ll try to make it to your birthday celebration, Jeff.”

“I understand, Bella. It’s okay,” Jeff replies, rubbing my arm in consolation.

I gather my things in preparation for the drive home. It’d be fun to relax with my new friends and hopefully soon to be co-workers after a long day. But my man is waiting for me, and I can’t disappoint him. He wouldn’t understand the need to relax with a drink when I could be home with him. As complicated as the situation is, I’m completely committed to him. He comes first. All of my decisions revolve around him.

“I’ll catch you guys tomorrow.” I wave as I head for the door.

As I reach the car, I pull out my cell phone. Opening the door and sliding inside, I listen as the phone rings on speakerphone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Austin. I’m on the way home.”

CHAPTERFIVE

Sebastian

Jesus, I need a drink.It’s only day three of Dr. Morgan’s two-week vacation, and I’ve already had it. My job has been stressful enough lately without covering his patients on top of mine. It’s one thing having to drive an hour to St. Luke’s to evaluate and treat patients on top of my Mary Immaculate ones, but the added caseloads don’t seem to be worth the added income.

It’s hard to complain about my job. Working as a reconstructive hand surgeon has been a dream come true, for a number of reasons. Meeting the constant need to test myself while heavily padding my bank account being at the top of the list. I’ve always craved a challenge. I was never a big sports fanatic. I was raised with more of a focus on the arts, music, and education than sports. A game of pool or darts is more my speed. However, I could go toe to toe with the best of them when it comes to wit and women.

My friend Nick and I were well paired in medical school. While I was raised with a silver spoon, I had absentee parents and prep school as my nurturers. Nick was raised an only child by devoted parents with a lower middle-class income. Yet, he had the same drive to meet any challenge given him I did. He’d had dutiful parents whose lives revolved around him until his mother passed away at age sixteen. He channeled his heartbreak into excelling at soccer, grades, and women. While I hadn’t suffered the losses he’d endured, I had my own chip on my shoulder.

My parents inherited a local vineyard from my grandfather when I was young. The winery was successful when they acquired it. They put very little into the family business to warrant the monetary gain they collected. It was expected my brother, Samuel, and I would take over the business as soon as we graduated college so we could continue to make the vineyard profitable while my parents lived a life of luxury on someone else’s back.

My mother and father had spent most of their adult life living large. I was unsure why they even chose to have children as little as we saw them. Even when we were young, we spent more time with nannies than our parents. What’s more, their ridiculous sham of a marriage was far from the loving relationship my best friend Nick’s parents enjoyed.

Nick’s father, Garrett, remained single after his wife’s death, completely faithful to her even in her absence. Yet, my father made no bones about the fact my parents’ union was only cemented on paper. He made frequent ‘business’ trips without my mother. He didn’t bother trying to hide the fact that many of these sojourns were unabashedly with other women. My brother and I were made painfully aware of this fact after witnessing the many screaming matches between my parents upon dear old Dad’s return. He’d assured Mother dearest some of his business jaunts had occurred on his own. This was usually met with scornful laughter as she accused him of taking those opportunities to find ‘fresh meat.’ Unlike many of my classmates, I found living at preparatory school wasn’t such a bad thing.

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