Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Her fond expression turned to a scowl in a blink. “What? No! Absolutely not. Dr. Rhodes is bound by the strictest of safety procedures, which require adequate rest between shifts. He’s a rule follower.”
Sure he was.
I didn’t express my doubt, only nodded at her.
She fussed with her tablet. “I’ll get him scheduled for another session. Just send me a few available times, preferably in the afternoon. Dr. Rhodes’s surgeries are typically scheduled in the mornings.”
I stood and gathered my things, resisting the urge to text my friend Oliver—who worked for the Dallas firm representing the hospital in this case—and tell him to shove his “favor” up his ass. No wonder his team hadn’t wanted to handle this witness themselves.
“I’m in the middle of a few family cases that will require me to be in court,” I told her. “I’ll see what I can put together. In the meantime, if you can explain to Dr. Rhodes that I’m on his side, that would be appreciated. He seems to think I’m the enemy, and that’s not going to help our case.”
Either that or he’s simply an asshole.
I kept that last thought to myself. Egotistical surgeons, no matter how pretty, were a pain in the ass. If he didn’t want to cooperate with this civil case, that was the hospital’s problem.
“I’ll talk to him,” the administrator agreed with another sigh. “I just feel so bad for him. Thank goodness he’s not married, or his spouse would probably turn up here angry.”
I forced myself not to roll my eyes as she chuckled. We all had our struggles. Right now, I was juggling an impossible case load of my own as a family attorney because I was a sucker for a family in need, but I’d still made time to respond to my friend’s heartfelt plea for assistance.
Oliver had started by asking me for help with a brief related to the case. Then he’d escalated the favor to testing and prepping their main witness. What had begun as a “brief favor” had turned into a pain in my ass that was anything but brief.
But Oliver’s firm had deep pockets and was paying me well, which meant it was in my best interest to suck it up and get the job done.
After returning to the office, I forgot all about Dr. Xavier Rhodes. I did not, however, forget about the million other things I needed to complete before the day was over.
When I finally left the office, I’d agreed to another deposition session with the “poor” doctor in a few days’ time. Honestly, I didn’t expect anything different at our next session, so I wasn’t surprised when it was more of the same: ego mixed with stonewalling.
“And you received your medical degree from where, Mr. Baptiste?” he asked with fake naiveté after I’d questioned him again.
This time, I was the one who stood abruptly and ended the session. It was late. The only time we’d been able to agree to meet was six o’clock, when everyone was short-tempered and ready to go home.
“This was a bad idea,” I said, trying not to blame the man himself. Or punch him in the face. “Why don’t we find another time to meet that isn’t so late in the day?”
The edge of his lip curled up. “Does baby need a snack?”
I blinked at him in surprise, even as something about his question, spoken in his deep voice, made heat furl deep in my belly.
We were alone momentarily since the hospital admin had left the room to answer a call, and I hadn’t wanted to keep Gracie from her husband and child.
My words came out through gritted teeth. “I beg your pardon?”
He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, his long fingers on full display against the wrinkled cotton of his rolled-up sleeve. “I’m happy to have someone bring you a meal, Mr. Baptiste. Just say the word. Hypoglycemia can have devastating side effects, including mood swings and confusion, as I’m sure you know.”
My eyebrows jumped to the ceiling. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is your problem? I’m trying to help you, and you’re doing nothing but regurgitating your surgical notes at me over and over. And now you’re accusing me of being hangry?”
At my loss of temper, his lips widened into a knowing grin. “Ah. There it is. Finally, I get to see the actual human instead of being peppered with questions by a corporate attorney with the personality of a manila folder.”
I gathered my things quickly, trying to hide the fact that my hands were shaking with anger. I refused to let this prick provoke me into being unprofessional.
“Thank you for confirming the stereotype about surgeons, Dr. Rhodes,” I said in as calm a voice as possible. “It’s true what they say that stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. And to think, I used to believe the surgeon’s god complex was a coping mechanism. Turns out, surgeons are just egotistical assholes. Good night.”