Page 5 of The Potter

“It smells like antidepressants and tears in here.”

I lift my gaze from the file in my hand. “Did you end up calling security to escort Ms. Belle out?”

I raise a finger to the man sitting across from me, signaling for him to wait a moment while I speak with Duke.

“No,” Duke chuckles. “She was quite sweet once I turned on the charm.”

“The only thing sweet about that woman was her clothes.” I stand and pour myself another drink, not giving a fuck it’s during office hours. Ms. Belle was the only patient on my schedule today, and I knew last night when I reviewed her file, I wouldn’t be taking her on as a patient.

“Come on, Vance, you and I both know the sweetest thing about her wasunderthose clothes.”

My hand tenses around the tumbler of bourbon. “Did you need something else, Duke?” I motion to the balding man in front of me. “As you can see, I’m busy.”

“Nope. I just wanted to check on Richard here.” He pushes the rest of the way into my office and shuts the door. “I’d hate for you to make him cry, too.”

I can feel my earlier rage bubbling to the surface. Two glasses of bourbon aren’t enough to get through this day. I need more, and I can’t leave until I’m finished with Richard. “Continue,” I bark out, ignoring the dumbass grin on Duke’s face.

“As I was saying before,” Richard clears his throat, awkwardly, “you asked me for my opinion, and I gave it to you.”

“And as I was saying, I don’t agree with your opinion, Dick.”

The white-knuckled grip Richard has on his pen doesn’t concern me.

“You don’t need toagreewith my opinion. But as your attorney, I suggest you heed my advice. Either you go to trial, or you’ll be left to face the repercussions.”

He taps the table, narrowing his eyes. “And you’ll address me as Richard, not Dick.”

I might appreciate the boldness if he wasn’t tugging at his collar and sweating a river in my fucking chair. “Right now, your name is Fucking Fired, but Duke will take note of your preference for future meetings.” I swirl the amber liquid in my glass. “Of course, you’ll be wise to remember that I am to be addressed as Dr. Potter, not Vance or son.”

Only Duke and Astor prefer weird monikers. Their patients refer to them as Dr. Astor and Dr. Duke which is completely unprofessional as surgeons.

“Everyone addresses me as Dr. Potter, Richard. And as my attorney, you will, too.”

“Fine,” Richard relents, shuffling the stack of papers in front of him. “Can we get back to the matter at hand? The lawsuit.”

The mere word, lawsuit, has my eye twitching. Until now, I’ve never been sued in all my years as a practicing surgeon.

I run a hand through my hair, ignoring the shake in my hand. “As I said, I don’t want to go to trial.”

I can’t faceheragain.

“But you did nothing wrong. Rolling over will set a precedence that this office won’t fight frivolous cases.”

The knot of tension coiled in my chest makes it hard to breathe. “I’m not sure the lawsuit is frivolous.”

Richard sighs. “Dr. Potter, I know how you are with your patients, but this case isn’t a burden you need to bear.”

And Richard doesn’t need to add to my already raging headache. “Are we done here?” I wave dismissively to Duke, whose expression has turned serious. “I need to get back to work.” And to my drink.

Richard nods, exhaling a breath that irks me. “I’ll set up another meeting with Serena for when you’re more amenable.”

Amenable is not in my DNA, but I offer him a curt nod anyway.

Whatever patience I had was used up when a cute blonde planted herself in one of my office chairs with her flowered-print skirt and wide blue eyes and refused to leave. I haven’t been that amused since my brother dyed his hair blond for a woman going through cosmetology school.

But like Richard here, I snuffed the hope from her eyes, too. It’s for her own good.

And mine.

---