Alpha Billionaire Series
Doctor Daddy Chapter 4

BROOKE

Apparently, no one complained about me to HR, because on Monday morning when I showed up for my first day at work, I still had the job. There were no embarrassing memos that insisted I should not complete the hiring process, and no one said one thing about me having s*x with one of the doctors in the janitorial closet.

Not that mom was aware of that last one, but the way she carried on all weekend, it was like I had actually gotten drunk and danced on the tables instead of having simply worn a sexy dress while being confident in my size and shape. If she knew I had walked out of the event without the panties I had been wearing when we arrived, she would have had a coronary.

I spent the first few days watching videos and taking online quizzes all in the name of training. The videos were mind-numbing. While I understood they were important in the greater scope of everything, like s****l harassment training, and safety protocols while using the trash compactor, they had no direct impact on my job.

It was Thursday before I began training for my actual job.

"Great, someone told you to wear scrubs," Terry, my trainer said. She made a weird all-over back and forth hand motion. "Did they mention that we have certain colors we're expected to wear in our department?"

I shook my head. "Yeah, they told me yesterday. I had to go replace scrubs immediately after I got out of here. Um..." I pulled on my top. "Do you know how hard it is to replace scrubs in my size? The specialty shop I ended up in said I'd have to special order them. I thought any scrubs were better than nothing."

She nodded with a shrug. "We're supposed to be in pastels with gray pants, you can wear the fun prints on Fridays. This will have to do until you can get something." "Well, where do you get yours?"

"There's a Scrub Hub at the mall, and some of the ladies make their own. Do you sew?"

I shook my head. I was not crafty-oriented. Sewing in Home Economics had been a particularly traumatic learning experience.

"When it's cold you can wear plain long-sleeved T-shirts underneath. HR won't say no to wearing appropriately colored cardigans, but no hoodies, or track jackets."

Scrub pants were incredibly unflattering on my figure, I could only imagine how much worse they would work in a pastel color. The black ones I was currently wearing hid a multitude of fitting sins.

As we discussed scrubs, Terry led me to the round desk that would be my workstation.

"Well, this is where you'll be."

The desk was round and positioned in the center of the atrium between the front glass doors of the medical building, the elevator bank that led up to the medical suites, and the long walkway that connected the medical building to the main hospital. There were laminated maps taped to the desktop, and a list of all the doctors' offices and their phone numbers. I had a phone with more buttons than I realized phones could have, a computer, and two monitors connected to cameras that pointed at the front doors and at the elevators.

"Wow, it looks like command central for a spaceship," I said as I sat in the chair and gave it a spin.

"It has all the bells and whistles, but unfortunately no warp drive," Terry chuckled.

"You can see people coming and going. You don't have to keep track of who has left their offices, they are responsible for that. Your job is to help get people coming in the front door up to the right floor. People are always forgetting where their doctor's office is. Hell, half the time they can't remember the name of their doctor. That's where this comes in handy."

She leaned over me and wiggled the computer mouse. The computer screen woke up from the swirling screensaver. She typed in a password. And then flipped over the mouse. There was a word written on it on a piece of tape.

"That's the password. IT makes us change it every ninety days. And none of us can remember it when it changes. Plus, there are a few of us who run this desk. Don't share it with anyone."

I nodded. It was a well-known secret, but only for those of us who worked the desk.

She clicked on a program, and a database popped up. "It's easy, if they can't remember their doctor or the floor, you can search by their last name, and it should return with their appointment information. Of course, this only works if they've put the information incorrectly." She pointed up, indicating the offices on the floors above us.

"Brooke?"

Nerves danced along my spine at the familiar deep voice. I braced myself and turned. Damn, the man was fine. "Doctor Mark." I flinched, remembering only after I greeted him to just call him Mark.

"So, your new job is here at the welcome desk?"

I nodded. "It is. What are you doing here?"

"My office is upstairs. You knew I practiced here."

"I guess, I hadn't really put two and two together," I admitted.

"It will be good to see your smiling face on a daily basis. I'll see you later." He winked and continued toward the elevators.

I watched him stride away. A different kind of shudder shot through my body. I could still remember exactly what his very capable hands felt like.

"You know Dr. Bryant?"

I couldn't quite read Terry's tone. Was she surprised or concerned?

"Friend of my parents." I didn't think it would be a good idea to tell her exactly how I knew him because I wasn't sure if she knew that Dr. DeBoise was my dad. Being the kid of the Chief Surgeon might not be readily accepted. Especially since I had gotten this job more from his influence than from my own merits.

"Oh." She pursed her lips and her eyebrows went up.

"What? Why?" I was curious now.

"It's just that the doctors here pretty much don't pay any attention to us, support staff. And well, Dr. Bryant is... um..."

"He's hot," I finished for her.

"Exactly," she said with a giggle.

We spent the rest of my few hours there going over how the phone system worked. I had a real-life case of someone forgetting which doctor they were there for, and I got a chance to use the database to locate their appointment.

"You did great. Tomorrow when you come back, I'll do a little less, and you can do a little bit more."

I left work feeling good about the job for the first time since I started. I would get to see Mark. The thought of that had my skin prick with anticipation.

I should have packed a change of clothes for meeting Angela for lunch. I stuck out like a sore thumb when I walked into the burrito shop. I expected someone at any moment to run up to me and demand medical attention. I wasn't a medical professional, I told people what floor their doctor's office was, and for some reason, I had to do that in scrubs.

I went through the line and ordered my burrito. I was munching on chips and salsa when Angela finally joined me.

"Oh, don't you look fancy and professional," she said as she took a seat.

"They're the wrong colors. They want me to wear pastels."

"Ew, pastels? Did you quit on the spot?"

"No, but it was tempting. Especially after the gala. I just don't look good in pastels."

Angela gave me one of her side-eye glances. "What does the gala have to do with wearing pastels?"

"I kind of met a guy at the event."

She leaned in close. Her grip on her burrito tightened, and then she looked at it before putting it down and wiping her hands on some napkins. "You met a guy?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say met. I'd say banged him in a closet while my parents were having cocktails and schmoozing."

"You did not? Never mind, of course, you did. Tell me he was hot."

I shook my head. Mark was more than hot. "He's smoking hot. But it gets better. He's a doctor."

Angela leaned back with a bold laugh. "I was hoping you were gonna say he was one of those super-rich trustees, and you scored yourself a sugar daddy. You know the type, ain't nobody ugly with that many zeros in their bank account." "He's daddy material all right. And he's a doctor."

"You didn't? Is he one of those silver foxes, all distinguished and yummy?"

I laughed. "Not that old."

"Please tell me he's got the sugar." She rubbed her thumb against her fingers indicating money.

"He's a doctor, I'm sure he's got the bank."

"And where do pastels fit into all of this?"

"You know pale colors just wash me out and make me look sick."

She nodded.

"He's going to see me in those ghastly colors. He works in my building."

"No!"

I nodded and hung my head in anticipation of the embarrassment of Mark seeing me looking like crap in pale colors.