Alpha Billionaire Series
Doctor Daddy Chapter 6

BROOKE

"Have you seen your doctor lately? You haven't been talking about him."

I nodded my head around, unable to answer with my mouth full of burrito. I finished chewing before I answered Angela.

"I have and I haven't."

"And what does that mean exactly?"

I let out a heavy sigh, took a drink of my Coke, and considered exactly how I was going to answer this.

"I mean, I see him practically every day. But that doesn't mean he sees me. You know what I'm saying?"

"Oh, sweetie, that sucks. Looks like Doctor Hottie is freezing you out!"

I shook my head. "I wouldn't even call it that. It's like he's simply forgotten me."

I swiveled out of the high stool I was on. I lifted my cup to Angela. "More?"

She handed me her cup, and I crossed the small dining room of the popular burrito shop to refill our drinks. The blond wood and stainless-steel décor was hip and a little too cool. In that, it was actually cold, and the place felt as if it was pumping in cold air. On a hot summer day, this place would be heaven. Today, the only thing keeping me was the food and Angela. I hated eating lunch in my coat.

"So, what are you going to do about it?" she asked when I returned with our refilled drinks.

"Nothing." I shrugged. "Maybe he regrets decisions he made in the heat of the moment. Maybe he's embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? How? You don't think he's married and nailed you as a little side action, and now you have shown up at his place of work to haunt him, do you?"

I loved Angela's far-fetched idea, but I knew that wasn't the case. Mark wasn't married. Mark wasn't even dating. If he was, I would know about it because my mom would talk about it. And the only time she talked about Mark was when she was already talking about one of her single friends.

Mom would prattle on about Nancy, or Michelle and how horrible their ex-husbands were treating them, and then she would get this glint in her eyes. As soon as that happened, she would start plotting a dinner party so that she could introduce them to Mark. It was as if Mom was on a mission to get him married off.

If he was already married, I wouldn't be in this situation, having banged him, and having a horrible unrequited crush on him. If he was married, I would assume the banging part on that evening would not have happened. Well, at least not with him. Who was I kidding? I wouldn't have jumped anyone else's bones that night.

"Don't know and am trying hard to not care. The man has confused me enough with his flirt and don't flirt attitude."

"Are you sitting there telling me you are honestly not going to go after this man? I thought you said he was fine?"

"He is. But I shouldn't have to go chasing after some guy who is not interested. He can man up and make a move if he wants to get with me."

"Since when have you gone all old-fashioned and expected the man to make the first move?"

"Since I let him drag me into a janitor supply closet and I took off my panties. I'm pretty sure that counts as it's his turn to make another move." "So what you're telling me is you are willing to let that fine ass man go?"

"Who said his ass was fine?" I mean, it was. But if Mark had changed his mind, I wasn't going to make myself miserable about it.

Angela took a big bite of her lunch. She made various expressions with her eyes. I waited until she was ready to talk.

"I'm thinking about going to graduate school," she announced.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to study?"

"I've been thinking about getting an MBA. There just doesn't seem to be many opportunities out there with just a bachelor's degree." "Hey, don't tell me that. I finally got mine."

She shrugged. "Maybe you have better luck than me."

I laughed. "Have you met me? So where are you applying? Emory?"

She grimaced. That wasn't a good sign.

"I was thinking of getting out of Atlanta."

"No, you can't leave me," I whined.

"Leave you? You're the one who went to Scotland for a year, leaving me here all by myself."

"Yeah, but you knew I was coming back. If you leave to get your MBA, you'll probably get a job wherever you are, and you'll be there, and I'll be here." "You'll have Doctor Hottie."

I tilted my head back and let out a bitter laugh. "I don't have Doctor Hottie, remember, he's ignoring me."

"All the more reason for you to go after him."

"Yeah, right. Not gonna happen. I think it's time for me to chalk him up to being a mistake. One I won't regret."

"Wait, won't regret? Aren't you supposed to regret mistakes?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Mistake, yes. Regret, hell no."

Angela sat up tall on her stool and crossed her arms. She looked at me like I was being a dumb a*s.

"Then come with me."

"What? Me in an MBA program? I'm not the best when it comes to school."

"You aren't dumb, Brooke. So, what if you took your time figuring out what area of study you wanted to graduate with. Most people end up changing careers two or three times in their life."

I snorted. "Not in my family. Rhys is going to be a lawyer forever, and my dad has been a surgeon forever."

She sighed. "Just because your family can have single-minded laser focus, doesn't mean that you have too as well."

"What would I do with a business degree?"

She shrugged. "We'll figure it out. And then we'll twist it so that it's not a weakness but an asset. Come on, it will be fun."

"Yay more college," I said with scathing sarcasm. "We need to work on your definition of fun."

"Tell me about it." She jumped off her stool. "And in true killjoy fashion, I have to go back to work."

I followed her out to the parking lot and said goodbye.

She went off to work, and I drove across town to replace a different scrubs shop to see if they had anything in my size. I had exactly three scrubs outfits for work, I needed at least two more tops before I felt I was adequately clothed for work.

My thoughts bounced between going to graduate school with Angela or staying at home and being ignored by Mark for the rest of the foreseeable future. The shop was full of fun fabrics, and the more office-friendly pastel colors. I left with three tops and two more pairs of dove gray pants.

The next morning getting ready for work I felt like I had an embarrassment of riches when it came to choices of what to wear. I could wear a white top with the gray pants, or a pink top with the darker gray pants. I ended up wearing the other pink top, it was more of a salmon pink versus the baby pink of the first top.

It didn't matter what I wore. I wasn't there to impress anyone, at least not anymore. I was there to look clean, presentable, and professional. I met the most basic requirements of the dress code. As tempting as it was to save myself sometime in the mornings and give up on makeup, well, I wasn't going to do that. The makeup was for me and my self-confidence. I needed as much as I could get.

I may have confessed most of my disappointment regarding what was not happening between Mark and myself to Angela. I hadn't confessed everything. I was feeling incredibly insecure. I had thrown myself bodily at that man, and he reciprocated, or at least I thought that's what had happened.

He had started flirting with me at work, and then suddenly, like a light switch being flipped, it went to nothing. No smiles, no greetings. I gave up trying to seek him out in the mornings.

He no longer made my day; he was just somebody who worked in the same building that sooner or later I was going to have to deal with when he came over to my parents' house for dinner.

I finished directing an elderly woman to the sixth floor for her appointment when the phone rang.

"Information, Medical Tower, this is Brooke."

"Brooke, just the person I wanted to talk to."

I froze. I wasn't going to panic, but why was Mark calling the information desk?

"Um, yes, how can I help you?" I tried to keep it as professional as possible.

"I've been thinking about you lately, and-"

"You should know that this line is monitored, so..."

"So watch what I say and don't mention..." He paused so long I didn't know what he was torturing me with. "Do you get a lunch break?"

"No. My shift ends at one. I eat after that. Why?"

"This conversation would be best not over a recorded or monitored line. Tomorrow, would you be willing to meet me after you get off?"

There was something about the way Mark said 'get off' that had me thinking about what he did to me in that closet. I didn't know if it was the tone of his voice, the way it got lower and kind of raspy, or if it was wishful thinking. "Sure, I'll meet you."