Beneath It All (Beneath #1) (32 page)

“Next time we go out, we’ll invite you to join us,” Jen said as she took a seat next to Number One. I assumed Dana and Bobbie Jo were still drooling over the dessert table and hopefully not licking or sucking on him.

“Definitely give us a call when you do. You would be a lot of fun to party with,” Number Two commented.

“I agree. The six of you would have a blast,” I said between bites of my brownie.

“Six of us? What about you?” Jen asked with a look of confusion on her face.

“You’ll have to wait a few months before I’m ready for a night on the town, and you ladies shouldn’t have to wait that long. Go out and have fun, but I expect all the juicy details.”

The three of them started laughing as Dana, Bobbie Jo, and Number Three entered the room.

He was surprisingly cleaned up and sat between Dana and Bobbie Jo with a naughty smirk on his face. I didn’t want to know what put that look there, but the girls both looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

Oh. God.
Swallowed the canary?
The image was forever etched in my mind now. I may need to bleach my eyes.

Over the next few hours, the seven of us laughed. The guys even helped clean everything up.

It was only eight o’clock, but I was exhausted. “I think I’m going to head up to bed. It has been a wonderful and relaxing day, but my pillow needs some head and my sheets need some ass.” I smiled before continuing, “You ladies behave yourselves. Boys, make sure you cover
it
up.”

I heard them all gasp as I turned toward the doorway to leave; a pillow flew by my head as I left the room.

“Good night,” I hollered back, trying to contain my laugh.

I AM GOOD

T
he next week went by without incident, and I was heading to the doctor for my next expander fill. Bobbie Jo and Jen insisted on driving me, but I wanted my independence back and refused both of them. This last round of chemo was so much better than the last four rounds, I felt almost human again . . . almost.

I stopped at my attorney’s office on the way to my appointment so I could sign the divorce papers. Noah hadn’t reached out to me after our meeting, and there was nothing left to discuss; his mind was made up. There was no point in trying; it would have only made me feel shittier about myself. Our past was just that . . . the past. It was time to move on.

I signed the papers on my terms and not out of pressure from him. He had everything set up for me, and I was told that we would need to wait for the judge to sign the papers for it to be final. The emotional wounds were still deep, but I didn’t have the energy to drag myself back down. I tucked everything that had to do with Noah in the far dark corner of my brain and walked away. Chapter closed.

*

Dr. McGuire was ready for me when I arrived, and before my butt could touch the seat in the waiting room, I was called back. She was still the ever chipper and lovely doctor from our last appointment, and she seemed genuinely happy to see me again.

“How are you feeling today? I have to say you look a little more relaxed.”

“I’m feeling good. My friends planned something special for me, and it was just what I needed to pick me up. It has been a rough few months, but I’m getting closer to the finish line. I can see it in the distance.”

“That’s great. I know it’s been a long road, and you’ve done an amazing job. I’m happy to see you smiling a genuine smile.”

“Thank you,” I said as I laid back against the table so she could begin the expander fill.

I did really like her, but I missed seeing Dr. Forrester. He had a calming effect about him that made me feel comfortable. Not that Dr. McGuire didn’t, but there was something about a male doctor that made me feel safe.

“Well, it looks like we only need to do two more fills before you’re expanded to where I want you to be,” she said as she helped me sit up.

“Really? This is going faster than I thought it would.” I pulled my gown closed.

“It will take about six weeks after your last fill before we can replace the expanders with permanent implants.” She flipped through my file. “Did you still want to go with the silicone?”

“Yes. They felt more natural, and these expanders hurt like hell. Sorry, I just want something soft in my chest,” I answered flatly. She didn’t pick up on my disappointed tone.

“I think you will be very happy with your choice,” she said as she closed my file and stood to leave. “I’ll be scheduling your surgery before you know it.”

“That’s great, thank you.”

Once she left, I changed and started assessing my chemo and expander fill dates to occupy my mind. I was upset about the change in my doctor that was, apparently, made for me. Grabbing my purse, I stepped out into the hallway.

“Hi, Victoria,” a deep, familiar voice said. I looked up to find Dr. Forrester leaning against the wall in the hallway. He was wearing a dark suit with a blue tie and had his arms folded across his chest. What caught my attention most of all was the smile on his face. It was a friendly and relaxed smile, which stunned me completely.

*

“Dr. Forrester,” I said in surprise. “I didn’t think you were in the office today. I tried to get an appointment with you but was told you were out.”

“I’m sorry—my schedule has been a bit hectic lately,” he said as he stood up and walked toward me. “I’m glad I caught you. Do you have a few minutes to talk privately?”

I swallowed hard. I already knew what he wanted to talk about. He wasn’t going to be my doctor anymore because I put him in an awkward position. “Yes, I have time.”

“Great,” he said. “Follow me.”

I followed him down the hall to his office feeling like a high school student making the walk of shame to the principal’s office. My heart rate was through the roof and my palms were cold and sweaty.

As I stepped into his office, my eyes were immediately drawn to a beautiful mahogany desk that was set in front of row of windows. Two wingback chairs sat in front of it.

Off to the side was a sitting area. It was more inviting with a beautiful Persian run, a small love seat, and two overstuffed chairs set around a beautiful glass table. Two Tiffany-style lamps completed the look, giving off a warm, comforting glow.

I looked back when I heard him shut the door, and he held his hand out, guiding me to take a seat in the sitting area. I moved to one of the club-style chairs and took a seat. I would have preferred to do this with a desk between us because it would feel more like business; this felt more personal, and I felt vulnerable.

“So, what do you think of Dr. McGuire?” he asked in a direct but casual way.

My stomach was in knots. “She’s very nice.”

“That she is. . . I’m glad you like her. She’s also an excellent surgeon.” He paused and I nodded to him to continue because I knew what was coming next. “I’ve asked her to take over your care going forward.”

It took everything I had to hold back the tears that were threating my eyes. “I understand,” I said as I shifted in my chair to stand, but he placed his hand on my knee, telling me that I wasn’t excused.

“No, I don’t think you do understand,” he said with genuineness in his voice. “I would like to explain.”

I took a deep breath as the tears I had so desperately tried to hold back began to trickle onto my cheeks.

Dr. Forrester reached for a box of tissues and handed it to me. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. Why don’t you take a few minutes to collect yourself? I’m going to step out to get you a glass of water.”

When I heard the door click shut, I let out the breath I had apparently been holding. Here I sat, a grown woman, crying in the office of my doctor who transferred my care to another because of my big mouth. It wasn’t possible to feel like a bigger fool. I’d lost my husband and now my doctor. One more strike, and I was out. You couldn’t make this shit up.

I needed to get out of there as fast as I could. I looked around for a secret door to escape out of, but it wasn’t there. Whatever he had to say, I would just agree to it so I could get out of there. I was tired of feeling like a failure. I dried my eyes and focused on calming my breathing before he came back.

“Here you go,” he said as he placed the glass of water in my hand and sat back down.

I plastered a fake smile on my face before I looked up at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’ll be okay. I know I put you in an uncomfortable position. It was inappropriate of me to tell you my personal problems, and I’m fine with seeing Dr. McGuire going forward. I’m sorry if I crossed the line. It wasn’t my intention.”

“You did no such thing, and you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who needs to apologize for how I’ve acted since then. I needed time to figure out how to handle this situation appropriately.” He took the water from me and placed it on the table before shifting his body so he was sitting on the edge of his chair turned toward me.

“Victoria, Dr. McGuire has agreed to take on your case as a favor to me. My reason for wanting you to change doctors is a selfish one and not because of anything you have said or done.”

My eyes started to fill again, and I looked away to try and stop them, but it was no use. I gave up trying to hold them back and was positive I would become dehydrated just from the tears I had shed these last few weeks.

“Please don’t cry,” he said as he moved to crouch down in front of me. “Look at me.”

It took everything I could to look at him. When I finally managed to, I didn’t recognize the man kneeling in front of me. The confident doctor I had come to know wasn’t there; instead he seemed nervous and uncertain. “Victoria, I cannot be your doctor anymore for professional and legal reasons.”

“Stop,” I sobbed. “I can’t listen to this anymore. I just signed divorce papers two hours ago, and the last thing I need are more legal issues. Please, just stop, I . . .”

Dr. Forrester put his hand over my mouth, and my eyes grew to the size of saucers in surprise.

“Victoria, I cannot be your doctor because I’m attracted to you. I want to explore my options with you and get to know you personally.”

The room was silent. He was now communicating with me through his eyes, and the realization of what he said finally hit me.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” I whispered.

“I would like to get to know you better and ask you out on a date. When you’re ready to date of course,” he said clearly; however, I could still sense a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I’ve never been in this position with a patient. I’ve been attracted to you from the moment I met you. I shamelessly called you personally to check in and purposely spent extra time with you during your visits because there was something about you that made me feel something I’ve never felt before. I knew it was wrong because you were married, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

He looked down at my hands, which were now fidgeting in my lap, and reached over to pull them into his own. The warmth of his touch comforted me as he continued, “When you told me Noah had left you at our last appointment, it really threw me, and I needed time to think. There were steps I needed to take professionally if I wanted to clear the way to see you on a personal level, that is, if you were truly available . . . and you just confirmed it.”

“Pinch me.”

Dr. Forrester looked surprised. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Pinch me. This can’t be real, I must be dreaming.”

“I will not pinch you,” he said, as he let go of my hands and moved back to his chair. “You’re not dreaming. I would like to take you out for coffee after you’ve had time to process what I’ve just told you. I need to be sure that you’re okay with my decision to turn your care over to Dr. McGuire and not just because I decided it for you. That was presumptuous of me. I made note in your chart that I would be referring you to her care after our last visit four weeks ago.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I did. Victoria, I’m serious. I want to get to know you, and I want you to get to know me. Meeting for coffee would allow us a chance to talk outside of this office and see if this is something we both want to pursue, if and when you’re ready. Would you be willing to meet me for coffee?”