“Dirty Doctor? That’s what we’re calling Dr. Ashton now?”
“Yeah, somehow I don’t feel right calling him ‘Dr. Nine Inches’ like you do. Plus, I think it sounds better.”
I tried to laugh, but nothing came out but a dry heave. “He’s still finding creative ways to push me into speaking to him again.”
“You’re still giving him the email only treatment?”
I nodded, but he was honestly breaking me down with each day that passed. All it took was one sexy smirk, one lick of his full lips, or a “Surely you can say thank you for this,” when he brought me breakfast and hot coffee every morning. (I was certain my ‘Subject: Thank you for Breakfast + I Truly Appreciate It’ emails would come to an end soon.)
“You know, it would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t so damn attractive and beloved by every person who works there.”
“Beloved? I thought you said he’s the rudest out of all the doctors.”
“Oh, he definitely is.” I sat up on the couch. “But everyone loves him because aside from his assholery from time to time, he’s actually quite generous.”
She looked as if she didn’t believe me.
“He pays for twenty percent of his patients’ care every month, and he takes on twice as many pro bono cases as the next top three doctors combined.”
“You’re kidding. How’d you find out?”
“I was going through his desk the other day, trying to find out where he’d hid my cell phone.” I smiled at his umpteenth failed attempt to break my silence. “I saw this list of notes and a bunch of checks paper clipped to it. They were all payments for the patients who either couldn’t afford his fee or didn’t have health insurance. And the notes were a very thorough list of at least fifty things he’s taken on for free this year. Fifty.”
“Well, maybe he’s not so bad after all. I mean, you clearly like him and vice versa, so maybe when you two get tired of playing these childish games with each other, you can at the very least be friends again.”
“I’m not going that far.” I picked up my phone as it vibrated against the coffee table. “He’s going to give me that apology, or at least acknowledge he didn’t have to be so rude.”
I swiped my screen and saw a message from the doctor himself.
Subject: Tomorrow. (As needed day)
Dr. Laurel won’t be coming in tomorrow. You’ll need to handle her three morning appointments. A nurse will be available.
—Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Tomorrow. (As needed day)
Dr. Laurel? Aren’t her morning appointments usually all pap smears?
—Dr. Madison
Subject: Re: Re: Tomorrow. (As needed day)
Yes.
Is that a problem? Are you uncomfortable touching pussy?
—Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Tomorrow. (As needed day)
No, I just ... I haven’t done one of those in a long time and I only did a few as an intern. I’m sure I’ll be fine, though.
—Dr. Madison.
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Tomorrow. (As needed day)
You don’t have much of a choice ...The nurse who’s assigned to help you will be taking observation notes on your performance for Dr. Laurel to “grade” later.
As much as you’ve touched your own pussy at night to thoughts of fucking me, I think this should be rather easy for you.
—Dr. Ashton
THE RESIDENT
New York, New York
Natalie
The next morning, my heart raced as I faced my first patient of the day. My gloves were on securely, the nurse had perfectly arranged the tools on the cart for easy access, and a vagina was right in front of my face.
“Dr. Madison?” The nurse whispered from behind. “Dr. Madison?”
“Yes?”
“When are you planning on starting the exam?”
“Um, right now.” I scooted my stool as close to the patient bed as I could go. “Could you place your feet in the stirrups for me, please?”
“They’re already in the stirrups, Doctor.” The patient hissed. “Just like they were already in the stirrups ten minutes ago, and twenty minutes ago. Any longer, and my legs may give out. Do I look like I’m in good physical shape to you?”
“No ... I mean, yes. I mean —” I sighed. They might as well have asked me to perform neurosurgery. I never was good at this. For a very good reason.
“Dr. Madison?” The nurse whispered again. “Do I need to get Dr. Ashton to do this? You have another appointment in twenty minutes and you have yet to even start this one.”
“No, I’ve got it,” I said, picking up the speculum. “I’ve got it.” I moved the speculum close to the patient, preparing to insert it, but I dropped it to the ground.
“Okay, that’s it.” The patient sat up. “Get me someone else. Now.”
I didn’t even offer a rebuttal. I took off my gloves and rushed out of the room, straight for Dr. Ashton’s office. I knew he was here and even though he told everyone not to bother him until after lunch, I knocked on his door anyway.
“Does anyone here know what the words, Don’t bother —” He ended his sentence as he opened the door. “Do you have a pussy phobia? Is that why it looks like you’re crying about your assignment right now?”
“No .” I let out a nervous laugh. “It’s just that ...”