Page 12 of Grumpy Bossy Doctor

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Ian

Mondays. Too many people, it's the start of the working week. For me and other doctors, it was just another day at the office. No weekends, no start of the new week. It was just another day of blood, medicine, sweat, sighs of victory or defeat, the anticipation of another successful surgery or operation, and the weight of failure that crushes you as you deliver the bad news to the patients’ loved ones.

But this Monday was different.

"Good morning, sir," Isaac greeted me. He was my forty-five years old personal assistant in charge of Human Resources.

"I still feel uncomfortable with someone older than me addressing me with sir," I sighed.

"Force of habit. Deal with it," he said as he took a seat.

I was researching new practice methods for a client coming in for implants. I had no idea why humans would want to change their appearances to suit others, but I didn't blame them. Maybe I chose this line of medicine because I secretly wanted to change myself into an image that everyone was comfortable with.

"We have a new staff coming in," he announced.

"We needed a new staff?" I raised a brow.

"A recommendation from your brother's hospital," he replied. "She seemed to have applied there but got sent here because they didn't have any openings."

"A leftover, huh?"

It was one of the perks of being a popular hospital. Many doctors worked with either of us. If they couldn't get into one of our hospitals, as long as they seemed competent, we'd send them to the next available brother's hospital. Mine just so happened to be needing an extra hand. With summer around the corner and people looking to cheat and get a summer bod or fix an error from last summer, we needed the manpower.

"Not just any leftovers," he said. "She's a traveling doctor with quite a list of achievements. While she majors in dermatology, she's been able to work with other high profile hospitals and just recently returned from a volunteering mission with the UN."

"Impressive," I had to admit, although I was still glued to my research. "Does she plan to become a permanent staff?"

"I don't know yet. She isn't sure either," he replied.

"I can't handle someone that isn't sure yet," I said.

"She seems like the model type though. Extremely beautiful," he added.

I finally looked at him. His eyes were focused on me. The glasses resting on his nose seemed to be slipping off.

"Aren't you HR? Comments like that are supposed to be prohibited," I reminded him.

"I know. And for me to make the comment, you should know how serious I am," he said with a smile.

"Let me see," I opened my hand still sceptical of his comment as he handed over the file.

"I knew you'd be interested," he said.

"I'm not. Don't make it weird." I rolled my eyes and read the CV.

Natasha James. The name struck an impression. My eyes immediately turned to the photo attached, and I recognized her immediately. The golden hair that put other blondes to shame. Those emerald eyes far more precious than the original gems. And those lips that had stolen mine a week ago.

I swallowed hard. "Have we hired her?"

"No, just needed your…."

"Accept her," I cut him off.

"That fast? What happened to not hiring someone who wasn't sure yet?" he asked.

"That was then, this is now," I replied. "Get her to start as soon as Monday."

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