Page 44 of The Masquerade: Room 2

Unfortunately, I have to work this weekend, so meeting my little one is out of the question. To add insult to injury, I’m expected to attend the hospital’s annual fundraiser. Black tie. Very fancy. No kink allowed. It’s my idea of a penance. I get paraded around to all the wealthy benefactors. I’m basically the hospital’s whore for the evening. There’s a reason I got into medicine—surgery specifically. I want to save lives with as little interaction as possible.

The last time I went to a party was at the club, and it ended with my head between a woman’s thighs. She would definitely make this fundraiser more bearable. Although, I’d have to know who the fuck she is in order to invite her to join me.

The second I get my little one back in the playroom, I’ll have her begging to tell me her name. I will make sure of it.

I’ve said hello to hundreds of guests as I make the rounds. My only saving grace is the drink in my hand and the promise of a delicious dinner.

“How are your residents shaping up this year, Pierce?” My Chief of Surgery and mentor, Dr. Joseph Milligan, loves these events. I’m his finest protégé, and he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen. He got a kick out of teaching and passing on his expertise. I’m not so enthusiastic when it comes to my residents. It’s a necessary evil as far as I’m concerned.

“You want my honest opinion?”

“Of course.”

“Perrington is the only one who has what it takes for neuro.” It’s unusual for me to consider taking someone under my wing, but maybe this year is different.

“High praise from you, Pierce. You have standards that few could live up to. Imagine if I’d done that with you.”

“We’d still be where we are now. I’m extraordinary, and you know it.”

“I see you’re still an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“It’s not arrogance when you have the skill to back it up.”

He chuckles. “Well, channel all that skill into creating another you. I need more surgeons of your caliber.”

“I’m great, but I’m not a miracle worker.” I slap him on the back before heading to the bar for another drink.

“Scotch neat, thanks.”

“Dr. Harrison,” says a familiar voice at my side.

“Perrington? You scrub up well. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of surgical scrubs.” I find myself lost for words. It’s amazing how different we all are outside of the hospital. I live a double life. It stands to reason that others do the same.

“Thank you.”

“Can I get you a drink? Pick your poison.”

“Gin and tonic, please.”

I flag down the bartender and order for my new shadow, standing in awkward silence until our drinks arrive.

“So, Perrington, have you thought about our last conversation? Your prospective specialty.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Walk with me. Dinner is about to be served.” Following me like a puppy, we take our seats.

“I came into residency with cardio in mind, but the more I have learned, the more interested I’ve become in neuro.”

“I don’t want to waste my time teaching you if you’re not sure.” It’s the story of my life right now.

“I understand, Dr. Harrison. I’ve put a lot of thought into it, and I would consider myself lucky to work under you.” My cock twitches. My little one has me on edge and turned on every minute of the day. Anything sounds dirty to me right now. I’m turning into Flex with the perpetual humor of a fifteen-year-old boy.

“You are lucky to work under me, Perrington. You have no idea.”

“Yes, Dr. Harrison.”

“So tell me, where did you go to school?”

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