Page 34 of Darling Venom
“Is he not in the office?”
I knew that the doctor was a he because Reagan once shared with me and the other girls she employed that every time she came from an exam, her panties looked like the bottom of a birdcage.
Apparently, he was out-of-this-world, Hollywood hot.
“No, he’s here. He just doesn’t take appointments or calls on Valentine’s Day. Only urgent cases.”
Spoiled brat.
For what Reagan paid this clinic each visit, he should not only be at her disposal on an hourly basis but give birth to the babies himself.
I lost my patience. “Well, consider Miss Rothschild’s case urgent.”
“Is she in labor?”
“No.”
“Does she have any cramps? Spotting? Is she feeling weak or lethargic?”
I considered saying yes, but then remembered that if I lied, I could snag an appointment from someone who actually did have these symptoms. And since Reagan had dubbed this guy Dr. Miracle for his specialty in high-risk pregnancies, this scenario wasn’t farfetched.
But what could I say?
That my boss was super farty?
“No.” I cleared my throat. “However…”
“I’m sorry. You will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“But he’s here.”
I wanted to throttle her.
Him, too.
I couldn’t fail Reagan. I had to get this appointment for her.
“Yes, but he isn’t done.”
“Done with what?” I resisted the urge to stomp, exasperated.
“I don’t know.”
Instead of strangling her, I smiled. “Fine. I’ll wait. Which one is his office?”
The receptionist pointed at the middle of the three doors facing the lobby. I nodded, grabbed my bag, and sat with it in my line of sight. I excelled at the waiting game.
Bonus points: I got to work while I did it.
I ignored the receptionist’s wrinkled nose as I produced the manuscript from earlier and continued reading the small-town, tragic novel a prospective client had sent us.
My eyes drifted to the office door of the mysterious Dr. Marchetti every few seconds. He was probably playing solitaire, the jerk.
Forty-five minutes after I’d arrived at the clinic, the receptionist twisted her face in my direction. I could tell she hated my presence, but she couldn’t kick me out.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” she announced to the empty room.
