His Games, Her Rules

My lunch sits on my table cold and sad looking as I go through my phone, reading several articles about Dominique Gray and his Enterprise. There are not a lot of articles concerning his life or his personal life, except that he’s 32 years old and he was born and raised in New York by an Italian mother and a father of French and American descent. I’ve read countless articles about him and nothing is interesting about his life other than the fact that he’s wealthy and he owns a lot of properties in the state and across the country. I skip through several pictures of him in different custom-made expensive suits, wondering how on earth he’s 32 years old. This man looks like he’s 28 and I can’t spot any imperfections on his face in his pictures and even in real life. He actually looks better in real life than in pictures, I’m going to give him that.

Even in pictures, the man doesn’t smile much. You can tell there’s so much hiding behind that nonchalant and stoic look when you stare at him. So many secrets and mysteries.

And why the fuck does that make him so hot and sexy?

It’s been over a week since we had that little chat and yet I can’t get the fact out of my head that he told me I’m indebted to him, especially when I know nothing about him. The man is full of mysteries, mysteries that I’m yet to uncover. I lock the screen of my phone and groan into my palms.

What have you gotten yourself into, Robyn?

“Trouble in paradise?” A familiar Scottish voice says. I raise my head in time to see Doctor Sanders pulling back the opposite seat and sitting down.

He gives me one of his rare smiles as he pulls up the sleeves of his lab coat.

“There’s no paradise.”

“That’s true. You did tell me you were not in a relationship. I wonder why.”

I raise my eyebrows and bite my bottom lip, eyes scanning the cafeteria briefly. It’s lunch break and I still haven’t had my lunch. Today was hectic and as usual, I overworked myself.

I turn to look at Doctor Sanders. “Since you care to know, relationships are the last thing on my mind right now.”

“I wonder why,” he mutters, leaning back against his seat as he stares at me. “I’m surprised you didn’t say men are scum or men are full of shit.”

I chuckle slightly. “Right.” I roll my eyes, licking my bottom lip.

“How are you holding up?”

“Fine. Why?”

“Well, it takes a lot of courage and commitment to be able to handle the type of patient we handled today. You were brave, you didn’t even flinch.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve dealt with that type of patient before?” And by type, he meant a patient with third-degree burns who later died.

“Sort of.”

Doctor Sanders watches me for a second as he nods.

Today was hectic. The patient the paramedics brought in today was a woman who was suffering from third-degree burns. They’d found her in an apartment with a man who was her supposed lover. He was already dead before the firefighters had gotten there but thankfully the woman was still alive, badly burnt beyond recognition. Doctor Sanders was in charge of her case and he asked me and two other residents to assist him in performing surgery. She died before we could prep her up. A woman later showed up in tears crying and wailing that the burnt, deceased woman was her wife. The deceased had told the woman that she was traveling for work two days ago, only to find out today that the deceased didn’t really travel, she was camping at her lover’s apartment who was a man and also dead due to a fire accident.

I was the one who had to tell the woman that her wife was dead. When Doctor Ricci still worked here, I was the one who was always asked to deliver bad news to the patients or the patients’ families. He believed I could deliver bad news without making it sound all that bad and I knew how to comfort patients even though comforting them isn’t part of our jobs.

“Who’s your date tomorrow night?” Doctor Sanders asks, pulling me out of my head.

“Date? What’s tomorrow night?”

“You forgot? How’s that possible?”

I blink my eyes trying to remember what tomorrow is.

Oh shit, the party.

Doctor Sanders smiles, shaking his head. “Can’t believe you forgot. You must have a lot going on in your head and your life.”

“Not really. I don’t care much about hospital parties and Saint Jose doesn’t throw them often.”

“So who’s your date? Or are you coming alone?”

“I am coming with a friend.”

“That’s good to hear. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you become a nurse?”

I lean back in my seat, arms crossed as I watch Doctor Sanders. He’s a nice man, accommodating, and patient, and he’s easy to work with. One thing I admire about him is that he’s a professional man, he’s committed, and he’s really good at what he does. And, I also noticed that a lot of the nurses and some of the doctors think he’s really hot, something I’d come to terms with. He’s an attractive man, and his voice, deep and masculine, paired with his Scottish accent makes him even hotter.

The last thing I would never do is have any kind of affair with a man from work, be it a sexual relationship or a passionate relationship. I find it to be unprofessional and distracting. But like they say, you can’t control who you fall in love with.

“I genuinely love taking care of people and I also love challenges. The nursing job is challenging and it lets me work with people who are going through one condition and another. I’ve always wanted to help people and make an impact in people’s lives.”

Doctor Sanders nods as he remains silent for a second before he speaks.

“You’re doing well at your job, I must say. And I’m proud.”

“Thank you, Doctor Sandals.”

He groans and smiles. “For a second there, I thought you’d dropped the awful name-calling.”

“Sandals isn’t awful.”

“Is that so?”Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Yeah.”

Doctor Sanders smiles as he nods. He opens his mouth to say something but he shuts it for a second, looking past my shoulder. Slowly, he stands up. “See you at the party tomorrow, Denver.” He says as he pats me on the shoulder and walks away, my eyes glued to his form as I watch him disappear around the corner.