Page 44 of Moonshot

“Uh, don’t know, really. I got called on the carpet by Dr. Stark about a patient who complained about his care. He wouldn’t tell me anything about what happened, just said I needed to try harder. I feel like I bend over backward for patients and him. Do you know anything about the situation?”

“Not really. Just some guy who said he was treated poorly during his visit. He said the provider was really aggressive, and he felt it was a personal issue. That he was being attacked.”

“Allison. When have you ever known me to attack anyone? If I was going to lash out, it would be at Joseph Stark,” I whisper.

“I agree. Mr. Seamen didn’t provide specifics but was adamant he voice his concern about his displeasure with his care.”

Fucking Edward.“Well, that clears things up. I didn’t provide any care to him. He refused to let me evaluate and treat him because I wasn’t a doctor. Dr. Lee took care of him.” I wish I could share that little tidbit with Dr. Stark, but I knew he wouldn’t care how this had occurred. He wouldn’t care less thatFucking Edwardjust had a bone to pick with me—and Eve—and this was how he chose to do it.

“Would this be the guy yelling from the patient room that Joanie told me about?”

“That’d be the one.”

“Well, I’m sorry you had to put up with him or Dr. Stark, Ava. Trust me, whatever Joe Stark gives me for your file will not be acknowledged.”

“Thank you,” I answer, rubbing the back of my neck. I honestly don’t even want food anymore. I just want to lay down. Retreating to my office to lie still for a few minutes before submitting myself to any further torture, I drop into my chair, close my eyes, and rest my head on my desk. As I reopen them, I see the notation on my desktop calendar of Mick’s scheduled visit. Looking at the clock, I realize he’s not coming. Probably just as well. How would I have handled it if he did?

Thinking more seriously about the situation, I’m better off not seeing Michael. I might’ve lost it and been called back into Stark’s office when my behavior wasn’t deemed professional. And that would’ve been my third out.If only Dr. Lee could fix Michael as he didFucking Edward.

But deep down, I know this isn’t how I feel. Despite the way he’s treated me, I strangely don’t want to see any harm come to him. Not sure why. He’s had no problem with walking away and taking my heart along for the ride. Sure, I’m angry. No one deserves to be treated this way. But I was falling in love with him. It’s hard to wish ill will on someone you care about, even when you’re mad.

I just have to channel all of this emotion into something constructive. To be an even stronger person. One who doesn’t take any shit from anyone. The next man who wants a relationship with me is going to have to prove his worth!

CHAPTERTWENTY

Ava

Dropping my keys on the counter, I decide to take a long, hot shower. The sensation of scalding water pounding against my flesh might distract me from the constant feeling of my heart being torn to shreds. I’d thought about picking up Luigi’s for dinner. Something pleasurable to distract me from this constant heartache, but I couldn’t bear bumping into Michael.

Walking into my white marble bath, I remove my clothes and turn on the water. Turning to look in the mirror, I take in my reflection. Tilting my head, I briefly examine my profile. I’m a pretty girl. Probably a little too flat chested for most men, but I’m not that bad, I think cupping my breasts.Oh, whatever.I’m smart. I’m funny, kind. And there’s no doubt after the other night, I’m good in bed.

What am I missing? I can feel my eyes fill with tears and walk swiftly to the shower before I succumb to this pity party. Lifting my head as I step into the spray, I give myself a much-needed pep talk. I’m changing the channel on these thoughts. I don’t understand why men behave the way they do. But this is no reflection on me. I have friends, I’m dependable. I have a good job, even if Dr. Stark makes me crazy. Most of my patients are happy with their care and seem to prefer seeing me to many of the physicians. I can tolerate him until I find something better.

Rinsing the shampoo from my hair, I apply a little body wash and try to give my shoulders a little massage. The tension appears to be a permanent part of my existence now.Change the channel, Ava.

Getting out of the shower, I quickly dry off and slide on my thick terry robe. I’m going for comfort tonight. However I can find it. Looking through the refrigerator, nothing grabs my attention. Shutting the door, I move to the freezer. Ah, Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby ice cream. My go-to ingredient for turning my mood around. Grabbing a spoon, I head to the couch. Curling my legs underneath me, I flip through the channels looking for anything that will distract me. Distract me from this gnawing in my chest.

The Bachelor pops onto the screen, and for a moment, it holds my attention. The couple is seated at a private oceanfront table near the beach. There are candles and flowers… snap out of it, Ava. There’s also a camera crew, and the guy is probably flying to meet the next girl for aromantic datetomorrow. And if I’m not mistaken, these guys often hook up with multiple women on this show. Women who are looking to land him. Why would I want to land a guy who’s sleeping with other women? Yuck! See. There’s something to be positive about. You haven’t stooped that low. You don’t need to audition for a man.

I chew the inside of my lip, wondering if Michael has, in fact, moved on to sleeping with other women. I mean, I haven’t heard a word from him in weeks, and he’s blocked my calls. Why would I think he’s holding out for me?

Now the ache in my chest has spread to my belly. Dropping the spoon into the almost empty pint of ice cream, I place it on the coffee table in disgust. Why did I have to go there?

I don’t need him. He’s a master manipulator. I’ll give him that. Any man that can go to such extremes to get what he wants, just to walk away. I must be quite the prize. To have pulled out all the stops with Luigi and spent an incredible night at the Nationals game just so he could score. Heck, he probably planned the date to be out of town, knowing the forecast called for stormy weather. Isn’t that the definition of a player?

Wrong channel, Ava.

Well, this evening went downhill quickly. Grabbing the remnants of my dinner, I deposit the carton in the trash, place my spoon in the sink, and decide to head to bed early.

“Hey, Mom. Just wanted to check in before I went to bed.”

“Hi, Ava. It’s not even nine o’clock. You have a headache, hun?”

“No. Just tired.”

“No word from Michael?”

“No. I don’t want to talk about him. You doing okay?”

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