Page 2 of Aron
2
Jesse
I stare across the dimly lit table at the stunning, sexy woman before me. “So, you’re not here for the doctor’s convention?” I ask.
“No, I’m just a regular old tourist here on vacation.” She looks down at her hands as she talks. The light bathes one side of her face in light and leaves the other in shadow. I’ve never seen anyone quite so beautiful. “I don’t think I’m cut out for that kind of thing. All those years of studying and hard work, just to end up dealing with the general public every day, worrying one of your patients is going to turn around and sue you.”
“Sometimes it can be rough,” i admit. “But none of that matters when there’s a sick eight-year-old girl in front of you, and you know that without all those hours of studying and hard work, she may not get to live another year. She may never get to see her brother be born or have that big birthday party she’s been looking forward to, or she may never know what it’s like to look out over the ocean and feel the waves splash against her tiny, little feet as the setting sun singes her young, fragile skin.”
A quiet descends over us. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to be such a downer.”
“No,” she leans over and squeezes my hand. The feel of her skin against mine sends a jolt of electricity through my body. I have to bite my lip to stop myself from groaning out loud. “that was beautiful. I didn’t mean to be so flippant about your career. It’s clear you really care about what you do.”
“I do,” i admit. “It sounds kind of silly, but it’s a calling. Not to everyone, but to me it’s always been that way.”
“I know what you mean,” she says.
“You do?”
She taps her sketchbook. “Ever since I was young, all I could think about was art. I’d grab a stick and start doodling in the sand or the dirt. All my school books were covered in pictures. My teachers thought I was crazy. But, in my heart, it was like… I knew this is what I was put on this earth to do.”
“Can I look?”
She pulls the sketchbook towards her. “I dunno,” she says, looking away from me. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Because you were drawing me?”
She nods her head. “I don’t usually draw people like that. I’m more of a childrens book illustrator. Jaunty little animals with cute outfits and cheeky smiles. That kind of thing. What I did tonight, it’s not very good.”
“I’d still like to see,” I say, aware that I might be pushing her a little further than I should. But, for some reason I can’t quite explain, I need to see the way she sees me. through her eyes. through the eyes of an artist. Through the eyes of a woman I’ve only just met, but may well be the woman of my dreams.
She pushes the pad towards me, still keeping her eyes looking in the other direction. “So, is that what you do?” she asks, “You’re a children’s doctor.”
I open the book to the first page and stare in amazement at the beautiful sketches before me. “Pediatric oncologist,” I mumble, lost in the world of her drawings, “but I’m here to give a speech about bedside manner. It’s kind of a pet passion of mine. How simple acts of kindness and attention, when treating a patient, can have exponential rewards in regards to their recovery, and the success of any treatments prescribed.”
“So,” she says, “You’re literally a doctor of bedside manner?”
I lift my head and look at her. She’s biting her oversized, pink lip. Her long black eyelashes flutter suggestively in the early morning light. I want so bad to lean across and kiss her, it’s almost painful. “You could say that.” I lower my head and turn to the next page. If I look at her another second, I’m likely to jump across the table and pounce on her. She’s so damn sexy, and it’s like she doesn’t even know it. “Although, most the other doctors think it’s a joke. That’s why I’m down here this early in the morning. Swimming off my excess tension.” I look at my wrist, but the watch I usually wear isn’t there. “I’m giving a speech this morning. Discussing my research. But I’m worried I’m going to be laughed out of the conference.”
“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”
“I’ve never done anything like this,” I say. “Put me in a room with a sick child, and I know exactly what I’m doing. Know exactly what to say. But stick me up on a stage in front of a podium and have me talk about the importance of making eye contact when discussing possible treatments solutions, and how sitting down and speaking to your patient at the same eye level can instill a level of confidence in your care that extends not only to the things you do, but the medications you prescribe… well, I guess I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t think it was really important. I’m just nervous, is all.”
“Nervous?” She leans her elbows on the table and smiles at me. Her teeth are bright white and straight and I can see the slightest hint of her tongue behind them. I want to feel that tongue inside my mouth as my hands explore her body. “I always thought men like you never got nervous.”
“Men like me?” I ask. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know…” Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. Her eyes turn downwards and she picks the table gently with her fingernail. “Attractive, big, successful men. Rulers of the universe. The kind of men who just sail through life without a care in the world and everything works out fine because of the way they look and the way they act and because they’re… alpha.”
“If that really were the case,” I growl, reaching over the table and lifting her chin with my finger so I can look her in the eyes as I speak these words, “and I always get exactly what I want. Then, I’d have you.”
3
Willa
When the sun comes up, I can barely believe my eyes. Dr. Aron and I have been sitting out by the pool all night. Talking. Getting to know each other. It’s been one of the best nights of my life and I never want it to end.
But, pretty soon I’ll be checking out of this hotel and flying halfway across the country. Going back to my drab, manless life.
