Page 14 of The Potter

“I like pastels,” I add, my voice unsure if my intuition is right about what Astor’s objective is.

“Pastels just became my new favorite color for work attire.” The confidence in his voice makes me smile. Maybe working here won’t be so bad after all.

Astor pushes open the door to my new office and reveals a wide, expansive desk, gleaming in sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows behind it. “I’ve never worked somewhere so beautiful,” I admit softly.

“A beautiful office for a beautiful lady.”

With a small nudge, Astor ushers us into the space and points to the door to the right. “I’m just through there. Familiarize yourself with the office while I return a couple of calls and then we can go over the basics.”

I nod, watching as he unlocks the adjoining door. “Dr. Astor?”

He turns around, his voice full of curiosity. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for the job.”

“Don’t thank me yet, kid.”

Vance

“Was this your idea?”

There weren’t enough deep breaths and stress squeezes to calm me down after seeing Astor and Ms. Belle who, apparently, now works here.

“Why would you think I had anything to do with this?” Duke kisses Carmen—notSummeras he calls her—on the cheek and swats her butt, ushering her out of his office and back to work, where she should have been half an hour ago, instead of making out with my brother.

“Because,” I snap, “you were the only one who knew what happened between me and Ms. Belle.” Astor wasn’t here the day I threw Halle out of my office. Clearly, Duke told him, but he wouldn’t have known where to find her or even know what she looked like. This could have only been Duke’s doing.

He throws his hands up, laughter making his whole body shake. “I might be going through a dry spell right now, but trust me, the last thing I want to do with my time is come up with ways to piss you off.”

I disagree. He and Astor love to add chaos to my order. “She shouldn’t be here,” I grit. “We have no idea if she’s crazy or only using this job to get what she wants.”

“And by what she wants, you mean a surgeon who can help her?”

A rush of shame coats me from the inside.

“You have no idea what her history is,” I argue.

Duke walks around to his desk and sits. “You’re right, I don’t. Show me her chart. Maybe I can help her.”

“No.”

My hands tremble as I remember the images of the scars on her hip and thighs.

“No? You won’t show me? Or no, I can’t help her?”

Why is he pushing the issue? “No to both. Neither of us can help Ms. Belle. She’s not here for tits; otherwise, I would have sent you the case last week.”

Total lie. Even then, I wouldn’t allow my brother to take my patient.

Duke chuckles. “I might not be as good as you are with scars, but I likely could make them better than what she currently has.”

“No.”

I don’t even know why he’s challenging my decision. Never have my brothers butted into my treatment of patients.

“Fine,” he chuckles, “but don’t be surprised if Astor offers her a consult.” Shrugging, he boots up his computer like he’s done with the conversation. “She seems like a really sweet woman. I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is…”

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