Dr. Brandt: Billionaires’ Club Book 5 (Billionaires’ Club Series)
Dr. Brandt: Chapter 8

It felt strange to let my mother-hen instincts take over and barge into Cameron’s office like I did, demanding to speak to him like some deranged woman at a department store who wanted to speak to the manager, but I shoved that to the side. Being told it would be another six months before my son could see Dr. Tsang was the straw that broke this mama camel’s back. That truth, however, didn’t make me feel like any less of an ass at the moment.

After hanging up with Cameron, I was escorted to his office, where my insecurities pulsated through me with every tick of the clock as I waited for him. I had two options: I could run out of here and act like nothing ever happened, or I could face the consequences of my Entitled Woman of the Year stunt.

“I’m such a dumb ass,” I softly mumbled as I rested my face in my hands.

“I beg to differ,” I heard Cameron say with a hint of sympathy.

I snapped my head up, and my eyes met his deep blue ones. “Cam,” I said with relief, and that’s when the tears started streaming down my face.

After endless worry about Jackson’s seizures returning with no help in sight, I finally broke down. Perfect timing, too.

I felt my skin burning with the touch of his familiar hand tenderly smoothing over my back. “Jess?” he questioned, making me raise my head to see him kneeling in front of me with a look of concern.

“I’m sorry,” I managed with a sniff and a smile. “I don’t know what possessed me to think I could insist upon you seeing my son like this. I’m embarrassed and feel like a fool.”

Cameron tilted his head to the side and licked his enticing lips. “I like to refer to that as motherly instincts.” He winked, and my heart rate sped up. He always had a way of dazzling me.

You’re engaged to Warren! I internally scolded myself.

“I like to refer to it as that too.” I rose, and Cameron stood, towering over me, as I managed to succeed in the desperate act of pulling my shit together. “I know there is a process for all of this—trust me, I get that—but I’m desperate, Cam,” I said, my eyes fixed on his and my voice set with steady determination.

“I understand that. I also know you well enough to know that it would take a monumental situation to bring you into my office like this,” he softly chuckled, most likely remembering the young college girl he dated who was once filled with drive and fearless grit. “Where’s your boy?” he asked, glancing around his empty waiting area.

“He’s with my fiancé. They’re packing at the hotel and,” I glanced at the silver watch on my wrist, “most likely headed back to New York on a flight that leaves in three hours.”

Cameron frowned. “Without you?”

I nodded, thinking about how irritated Warren would get when I did impulsive things like this. In fact, I knew Warren would be on that flight, probably insisting to my son that I was a fool to believe Cameron would make any effort to help me. Warren had always liked to brag about how he was better at making decisions because of his logical way of thinking—his business sense.

Warren and I typically had a very low-key, easy relationship. But it seemed like ever since the going got tough because of the seizures, he disapproved of my reactions. I guess it was easy to be in a relationship where nothing was ever really happening—it was not so hard to be compatible while coexisting peacefully. I couldn’t say I was a fan of Warren’s behavior since the seizures started again, though. We were totally out of step, constantly butting heads, and I was in no mood for someone to be tripping me up while I was trying so desperately to get ahead and be proactive for my kid. I didn’t appreciate the implication that I was behaving hysterically, and Warren seemed plugged into that idea for some reason.

“If we leave now, we can catch them at the hotel,” Cameron said, bringing me out of my thoughts and back to the issue at hand.

“Let me text Warren and figure out where he’s at.”

“Great idea, tell them to meet us here. That way, I can chat with your son and give him an unofficial evaluation to get him on the books.” He smiled at me as I waited for Warren’s text or call back. “Since I’m not accepting new patients, you’re lucky you’re still the only beautiful woman who can bend me to her will with just a look.” He grinned, the soft black beard on his face trimmed to perfection, bringing out the sparkle in his eyes.

“Thank God I still have that effect on you,” I shot a smile right back at his handsome face and felt the old Jess return, insecurities gone in that second.

“You’ll always have that effect on me, Jessa,” he said, his voice lower and smoother than before.

That did something to me. I mean, it really did something to me. It had awoken an instant sensation within me that I’d not felt in years. Or had I ever felt this way before? No. No, I’d never had my breath taken away by a man for any reason, not like this.

Focus, Jessica! I demanded myself as my phone dinged when Warren’s text came through.

“Son of a bitch,” I said, reading the text. “What a dick!”

“He took an earlier flight and left you?” Cameron questioned.

“He’s leaving either way. He said that if I want to embarrass myself, go ahead, but he’s heading back to reality with Jackson.”

“Why did he even come? What are you going to do?” Cameron asked me, almost challenging me to see if I’d let my dick of a fiancé get away with this bullshit.

This was humiliating, and the fact that Cameron asked me what I would do made me question everything. Maybe Warren was right, and I was stupid to show up here. Cam already said he’s not accepting new patients. Why did I fly across the country without reassurances? What kind of mother does that to her child?

“You know, I’m an idiot.” I smiled at him, hoping that would get me off the hook. “If you’d like, I can buy you dinner for your trouble, but Warren is right. I need to head back to—”

“Fuck that shit,” Cameron responded. “Pardon my directness, but Warren is a prick. If he weren’t, he’d be thrilled that the doctor you searched out is willing to help you.” He frowned, “You have a car?”

“I have an Uber app,” I smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over me, hearing Cameron confirm I wasn’t entirely out of my mind for doing this—and that Warren was a prick.

“Well, no need for Uber,” he said, dramatically raising his hand toward the entrance of his office. “I’m here, and I think you’ll like the car I’m driving to get your ass to your fiancé and son before they jump the next flight out of here.”

Usually, I would have given Cameron a hard time for whatever hundred-thousand-dollar sports car he was driving, but my mind was preoccupied with my fiancé’s text.

“Why wouldn’t he have called me?” I said after Cam and I were in his car, pulling out onto the street as though we’d just driven onto a racetrack.

“That I can’t answer for you,” Cam responded, eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror, most likely checking to see if a cop was on his ass for nearly running a red light.

“I’m sorry,” I answered with a sigh.

“Never apologize,” Cam said smoothly, making the anxiety that’d been building inside me, quiet down.

I smiled over at the familiar way he was driving. One hand on the stick shift of the Porsche, the other gripping the steering wheel, and eyes set with a hunger to chew up the miles on this freeway and close the distance between the hospital and us in record speed.

“Still trying to set records in sports cars?” I asked, soaking up this moment of familiarity.

“Always,” he said, glancing over his shoulder and sliding into the carpool lane. “You still telling people how to drive while they set important driving records?”

I softly chuckled. It felt nice to have someone talk to me without being patronizing for the first time in a while.

“Important driving records?”

“You heard me,” he said with a flashy grin I remembered well. “The last time you and I were on this freeway together, I hit one hundred and eighty. This time I plan to—”

“Get us killed?” I questioned with a laugh.

“Ha,” he scoffed. “You’ve been away from me too long, Jessa.” He arched an eyebrow at me, and I would’ve started to come undone at that familiar look, but the exit was coming up for the airport, bringing me out of some college hormonal awakening and back to the reason I was in the car with Cameron in the first place.

“I have no idea where we’ll replace them,” I said, seeing cars go on for miles, offloading departing passengers to their terminals.

“Use that feature on your phone known as the call button, ring that ultra-considerate man you call a fiancé, and replace out where they are,” Cam said with sarcasm.

“Right,” I responded as I called Warren’s phone.

“Try again,” Cam said with some irritation after watching me stare blankly at my phone when Warren sent me to voicemail.

“Yeah?” Warren answered on my second try. “We’re walking into the airport now. Are you on your way, or are you—”

“I’m here,” I said, looking through the crowds of people for my fiancé as soon as Cameron slowed the car where I pointed. “This airline right here, Cam,” I said, trying to navigate. I suddenly spotted Warren, who made eye contact with me, then turned to walk inside.

“You did not bring that man all the way down here,” Warren snarled into the phone after I stepped out of the car and walked into the terminal, trying to replace my son and him.

“No, I didn’t,” I snapped. “He brought me down here after you left me. Now, can you please walk back outside so we can talk about Dr. Brandt’s willingness to see Jackson?”

“Tell Dr. Brandt we are thankful for his willingness to see Jackson, but we’re leaving. Seriously, Jess. If he were a decent surgeon, he wouldn’t be participating in this bizarre fantasy you have, acting like the hero doctor who is coming to your rescue.”

“No one is trying to live out a fantasy, Warren,” I said. “Now, get my son outside so Cam can meet him. Hopefully, he’ll have some open days soon to give him a full evaluation after calling for records.”

“That’s the thing, Jessica,” Warren replied indignantly. “If the guy were a professional, he’d pencil you in after looking up Jackson’s records. He wouldn’t drive you to the airport in some douchey sports car, using Jackson as a ploy to prove his maturity to me.”

“This isn’t about you! Now, I’m standing in the airport right fucking now,” I growled in some voice I’d never used on Warren before. “Where the hell is my son?”

“We’re checking the bags,” he snapped. “Get up here if you want on this flight with us.”

“Stop fucking around, Warren, and get back here, I nearly shouted. “This is embarrassing.” I ran my sweaty palm over my forehead and glanced around at the people bustling around the airport. “Warren.”

Silence.

“Warren.” I raised my voice even louder. “Warren!”

I glanced down to see the home screen on my phone. My fiancé had hung up on my ass. I should’ve expected this. It’s what Warren did when things didn’t go his way on a phone call.

Instead of allowing tears of frustration to surface, I remained steady in my cause to replace my son. I didn’t care if Warren was doing what he thought was best for Jackson; that wasn’t his call to make, and I was furious.

“Call Jacks,” I ordered my phone, my eyes staring at the security checkpoint.

“Mom?” Jackson answered. “Please tell me you’re checking in. Warren is pissed and being an asshole.”

“Yeah, he just hung up on me,” I returned. “I need you to tell Warren that you’re staying here with me. Dr. Brandt is going to check you out, most likely treat you, and replace some answers.”

“Mom,” Jackson said, trying to bring in some reasonable authority, “I know you’re trying to do what is best, but if Dr. Tsang can’t even get me in, what makes you think the more famous doctor will?”

“Because he’s an old friend from college, son,” I said, bringing in my parental authority. “Get out here and meet him. We’ll take the next flight out if you don’t like what you see or how you feel about him. Warren can kiss my ass for acting like this and making you believe this is all fucking bullshit.”

“Good God, Mom,” Jackson said.

“Sorry for the language, but I’m at my limit. Dr. Brandt is going out of his way to help us, and Warren is acting like the doctor is beneath him. I’m over it. Get out here. I want you to meet him and make the call on whether you want him to treat you.”

“Hey, Warren, I’m heading back to Mom. She said we’ll be on the next flight if I’m not into this Brandt guy,” Jackson said.

I heard Warren mumble something to Jackson. Warren was still boarding the plane—even after I’d accomplished what we came here to do—and he couldn’t be bothered to tell me himself. It was apparent that his goal for this trip was to prove me wrong and make me look foolish, and he was furious that I managed to do what I’d set out to do.

Why am I marrying this asshole again? I thought, feeling the heat rushing to my cheeks.

“Hey, Mom!” Jackson hollered. Bless that boy and his Spidey senses for picking me out of the crowd.

“Right here,” I waved and hugged him tightly when he came close.

“Well, take me to this doctor you’re willing to risk your fiancé for.” He raised an eyebrow, looking at me like Cam had earlier.

I pushed away the instant fear that, for the first time, I was about to introduce my son to his biological father and Cameron to his son. I could only imagine what would happen if the truth of Jackson’s paternity came out. Were the unknown consequences of that a risk I was willing to take? Absolutely. I’d do anything to ensure my son had his life back. Why else did I come all this way?