Chapter 1
“I need a vacation,” I muttered under my breath as I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. I could already feel a headache coming on, but I had no way of stopping it. I also didn’t have the luxury of kicking back and switching off the lights because I had a busy day stocked to the brim with patients.
When I told my parents I wanted to be a doctor, they were thrilled. They would brag to their friends, especially considering my mum was a teacher, and my dad was an architect at a small firm. They were happy about their jobs, but they always wanted more for me.
Thus, began my long and winding career down the path of medicine. I started off wanting to be a vet, but after I realized that I would actually have to put animals down sometimes, I realized that I would be a wreck afterwards, and I would never be able to live with myself.
So, that option was out. I thought about being a pediatrician, but I discovered that although I loved kids, I couldn’t handle the screaming and temper tantrums they threw. I never knew how to manage them in that moment, so I always shifted my gaze to the parents, awkwardly hoping that they would swoop in and know what to do.
It wasn’t a fatal flaw. After all, most doctors learned how to deal with kids over time, but I didn’t see myself traveling down that path either. Once I got hooked on Grey’s anatomy, I dreamed of becoming a surgeon, and perhaps having a show named after me.
Aubrey’s Anatomy, they would call it. Or maybe Davis’ Anatomy. Or perhaps Aubrey Davis’ Anatomy. That last one was a bit of a mouthful, so I decided I’d leave the name of the show to the producers.
That was until I discovered that I didn’t have a knack for surgery at all. It required a certain finesse, precision, and the ability to think on one’s feet in a life or death situation. The idea of a patient awaiting my verdict, and that one wrong snip could somehow send things spiraling didn’t help my nerves, and so I didn’t go down that path either.
In the end, I discovered that the only way I could help people while also honing a skill I have was to become a dentist. Sure, nobody really liked dentists, but at least nothing major happened with teeth.
There were less risks involved, and there was less of a rush when my patients came in. My parents were less than thrilled when I first announced my decision, and I could see the glow dim from their faces a little as they both grimaced.
Obviously, our daughter the brain surgeon had a much nicer ring to it than our daughter the dentist. They couldn’t comprehend my decision at first, try as I might to make them see otherwise.
Eventually, I gave up and realized that they would come around on their own, and they did. It took them a few months, but once they started showing up at my clinic, I knew that they were in.
Interning was hard at first. I had a tough as nails mentor who rarely smiled and did very little aside from bark orders at me and distastefully comment on my choice of outfits. I failed to see how it would affect my performance, but I soon came to realize that this way his way of toughening me up.
Getting me ready for the world of dentistry.
It was pretty unglamorous, and you hardly ever saw any shows dedicated to dentists. It was a good job, a steady one, and at least it wasn’t as stressful as other areas of medicine.
Nonetheless, there were days when I wanted to give my patients a stern lecture and kick them out of my office. They wanted their teeth to stay clean and healthy without putting in any effort, and somehow, they expected me to be able to make that happen.
I was no miracle worker.
Which I kept explaining over and over.
Though I had a feeling they rarely listened.
Most of them showed up with a problem that they wanted a solution for, right there and then, and then they’d be off on their merry way until the next time we met. It was what I liked to call a band aid solution. It worked for a little while, but eventually the band aid needed to be ripped off, and the real work needed to happen.
It was especially hard when I saw their habits rubbing off on their kids. I had a three-year-old come in the other day, and she had cavities that were so bad I wanted to hug her and apologize on behalf of her parents. That was grade A negligence.
I gave the parents a stern talking to, and they slid their gazes away guiltily as I lectured them on what candy and soda does to a person’s teeth. I would’ve liked to think that things changed after that.
They did a little, which was something to be thankful for, but still it made me frustrated. So, I decided to teach their kids about oral hygiene in the hopes that she would pick it up herself, and her parents would join in. It seemed to work as her teeth got better and better.
It was a small victory, but life’s made up of those.
My phone started to buzz in my pocket, and my feet fell off the desk in surprise as my head shot up. I tried to calm my erratic heartbeat as I fished my phone out of my pocket and pressed it to my ear.
“Please tell me we’re still going out tonight,” Sarah’s voice floated in through the speakers. Sarah Sommers was my best friend of four years. A hyper brunette with a bright smile, and dark eyes. She was a wonderful person to be around unless you crossed her.
If that ever happened, well there was truth to the saying, ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’.
Still, she was fiercely loyal and funny as hell. I began to rub my fingers across my temple in slow circular motions in the hopes that the headache would ease up.
“I’m still game, but didn’t you have a patient who called for a reservation at the last minute?” I asked, confusion lacing my tone.
“Oh, yeah, he called to cancel just now. That’s why I’m calling,” Sarah explained.
Sarah was a dentist just like me, and our clinics were right across the street from each other. We’d gone through med school together, but didn’t actually become friends till we graduated.
Part of it was interning for the same guy and worrying that the other person was the competition. In the end, he ended up choosing both of us, and we realized that we didn’t need to be pitted against each other.
“Let’s definitely go then because I really need this. My vacation is starting to feel like it’s further and further away even though it’s only a few days from now.”
“I know, hon, but hey, you’re in the final stretch. Almost at the home run, you can do it,” Sarah said, sympathetically with as much cheer as she could muster.
“What’s with the baseball analogies?”
“Too much?”
“Just a bit.”
“I’ll try to tone it down,” Sarah offered. “Alright, I gotta go because my next patient, a kid who’s consistently on a sugar high is about to walk in, and if I don’t rearrange my face into something friendly first, I’ll probably get fired.”
I laughed as I propped my feet back on my desk. “Good luck, S.”
The dial tone went dead, and I stared at my phone for a minute before I shook my head. Sarah wasn’t wrong about that. Her face had a habit of making faces, and she had very little control over it unless she knew what to expect beforehand.
Otherwise her face completely gave her away, and it was usually not a good thing.
“Dr. Davis?” My receptionists’ voice came in over the speaker. I sighed as I grudgingly lowered my feet and glared at the telephone.
“Yes, Melissa?”
“Jack is here, and his mom is asking if you can squeeze him in,” her voice sounded anxious and apologetic. She was as bad at dealing with kids as I was, and they always sent her into a tizzy.
I lowered my coat and checked my watch.
Technically, I did have time for one more patient, but did I want to see him?
No.
Jack was about as mean as they came with a nasty attitude, and a smirk that made me want to discipline him the old-fashioned way. Instead, I had to grit my teeth and paste on a fake smile around him and his plastic mother.
A ditzy bleached blonde who was more interested in her phone than paying attention to her son.
Nonetheless, I was a professional, so I buttoned up my coat and stood up.
“Send him in, Melissa. Thank you.”
I ran my fingers over my coat to smooth it out, and my head snapped up when they walked in.
“Hi, Jack, how are you today?” I asked in my best optimistic voice. I read somewhere that if you used a happy voice that children were more likely to respond to that.
It rarely worked with Jack, who at seven was already a sullen kid with a bad attitude, but I had to do the best I could.
“Fine,” he grumbled in my general direction as he crossed his arms over his chest and stubbornly jutted his chin out.
“What seems to the problem, Mrs. Berry?”
His mother looked up in surprise as if she didn’t quite know what she was doing there, and her phone was momentarily abandoned as she stared at me with unfocused eyes.
“I’m sorry, what?”
I tried not to heave a sigh as I gestured to Jack. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Oh, he’s complaining about his tooth again.” His mother dismissed this complaint with a wave of her hand as if it wasn’t her fault her son had developed cavities.
The next generation of parents was going to drive me bonkers.
I had no idea why they were even parents to begin with when half of them acted like they didn’t want their kids, and the other half seemed afraid of them.
“Let’s take a look.” I patted the chair and rolled it up so he was at eye level with me. I took a look inside and shook my head in dismay.
The filling on his cavity had completely fallen out, and we would have to put in a new one.
Again.
“What happened Jack?” I began to pick up my instruments to pry his mouth open.
“Nothing,” he said with his mouth open as a little bit of spit came out. I shifted as I used the edge of my latex gloves to wipe it away.
“Open wide.”
He did as he was told, and I nearly staggered backwards from the smell.
It was like being inside a sewer.
What the hell did this kid eat?
And didn’t he ever brush his teeth?
One glance at his mom confirmed. She was probably too busy Instagraming or Snapchatting or whatever she was doing on her phone to check and make sure her kid was taking care of his teeth.
I resisted the urge to place a clip on top of my nose, and I took a deep breath. I decided the best course of action was to hold my breath while I worked otherwise I might pass out from the smell.
“Here we go,” I said as I sucked in a huge gulp of air and dove in.
Jack sat very still as I cleaned his teeth and put in a new filling. Eventually, I ran out of air and had to breathe in through my nose.
I tried not to cough as my eyes welled up with tears.
***
“What in the name of all that is holy is that smell?” Sarah complained when I walked in through the door of our shared apartment an hour later.
I grimaced as I stared down at my clothes in dismay. “That is the smell of a seven year old’s vomit.”
Sarah made a face as she looked at me from her spot in the couch. “Jesus, was it that kid Jack again?”
“The one and only.”
“Dude, there should be a way for dentists to protect themselves against patients.”
“Like a dentist protection program?” I asked, very dryly as I tried to avoid breathing directly lest I get a whiff of my clothes. I hurried to the bathroom as fast as I could and gingerly began to peel off my clothes, doing my best not to get any of his vomit directly on my skin.
It was impossible of course, but I still had to try.
“Exactly,” Sarah called out. I heard the sound of her footsteps as she walked down the hallway and stood outside, hovering near the entrance. “Those little kids could put the mob to shame with their little acts of terrorism, and their foul-smelling mouths. It’s like something crawled in there and died.”
“By acts of terrorism I assume you mean throwing temper tantrums and luring you into a false sense of security by battering their eyes and giving you the crocodile tears?” I raised an eyebrow as I rummaged around for something to put my clothes in since I couldn’t throw them in the hamper with everything else.
“Yes, the evil little geniuses. They know what they’re doing,” Sarah muttered, darkly as she crossed one arm over the other. “I do hope you’re planning on washing that separately.”
“No, I was planning on throwing it amongst our regular clothes because I love the scent so much, I want it to last all day,” I responded, sarcastically as I shot her a look over my shoulder.
Sarah threw her hands up in the air. “Hey, I know we’ve lived together for about two years now, but I’m sure there’s still some things I don’t know about you.”
“Like the fact that the smell of barf just gets to me?”
“You never know, Aub. I’m just saying to each his own.”
“If I ever do by some messed up twist of fate ending up liking that smell, you have my full permission to not only commandeer the apartment for yourself, but you can also kick my ass out.”
“I see this working out to my benefit,” Sarah commented, brightly as her expression turned thoughtful. “A whole apartment to myself. No random cleaning, no more Star Wars marathons….”
“Also no more good meals or splitting the chores,” I reminded her as I snickered at the expression on her face.
“It was just a thought,” Sarah responded, defensively. “But no, after deliberation, I have decided that you are a good roommate and to keep you around. Good girl.”
“Woof, woof,” I said as I rolled my eyes and shut the door.
***
Sometimes, I hated being a lightweight. I was two drinks in and already buzzed and going into tipsy territory. Sarah was on her fifth drink, and she looked as clear eyed as she did when she walked in.
Which if you think about it, really wasn’t fair.
It should be spread out evenly, that way, everybody got to have fun. Just once, I would’ve liked to know what it felt like to not have to bow out early because I was a lightweight.
The sound of the music thumped through the speakers, creating a steady bass that seemed to vibrate throughout my body. The name of the club was La Roche. A fancy French name for what was otherwise an ordinary club with the same standard neon lights, dance floor and plenty of dark corners where people snuck off to.
I blinked at Sarah and gave her a lazy grin. “I love Vodka.”
Sarah smirked. “Yes, you said that already, Aub. You do know that Vodka turns you on, right?”
I frowned as I glared at my drink accusingly. “No, it doesn’t. No, you don’t, right?” I picked up my drink and waved it around, nearly causing the drink to slosh were it not for Sarah’s steady hand on the glass.
“Save it for yourself, Aub. You don’t want to go wasting all of it.”
“You’re the best, S. Do you know that?” I gave her a grin as I tilted forward precariously.
“Is that the vodka talking, or you?”
“If it were the vodka talking, I think you should be worried because that would mean I’m making a pass at you,” I teased as I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.
Sarah threw her head back and laughed. “I’m not worried about that, Aub. I’m not your type, nor thankfully, are you mine.”
“Type? What does that even mean? Why do people even have types? Shouldn’t we just be open to accepting people as they are?” I asked as I flung my arms out dramatically.
Sarah quirked her lips in amusement. “Yes, but we can’t help what we like. Just like we gravitate more towards certain activities, or certain types of food. The same applies to people.”
I thought about this for a second before I took a sip of my drink. “I don’t agree. This kind of exclusivity should not apply to people.”
“Shouldn’t and does are two very different things,” Sarah pointed out as she swallowed back a shot of tequila. “Come on, you can’t tell me that you would agree to kiss every guy in this bar just because they’re all human and deserve a fair chance.”
I squinted at Sarah and threw her a challenging look. “Try me.”
“Alright.” Sarah swiveled in her chair and faced the front. “How about that guy?” She pointed to a man of average height, dark greasy hair and dark eyes. He was also very handsy with his date.
Massive turn off.
I made a face, but I tried to swallow back my first comment. “Sure.”
“Liar, I can see it all over your face. You wouldn’t kiss him, and you know it. You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose.”
“Not true,” I insisted.
“Alright, how about that guy?” She pointed at a sandy brunette in the corner of the room who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and staring blankly ahead. With his huge biceps and tight shirt, physically, he was quite attractive, but his eyes held no kind of warmth nor any kind of liveliness.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Sarah snorted. “Bullshit.”
I wobbled forward. “I’m going to go wash my face, okay? This game needs a clearer head.”
Sarah immediately stood up. “I’ll go with you.”
“Where are a pair of hotties like you going?” A man catcalled as we walked by. We were both dressed in a pair of short dresses that accentuated our curves. After spending the entire work day in jeans and t-shirts, it was nice to clean up and wear something pretty.
Sarah’s dress was black and she had her hair straightened down her back. I went for a red dress, and my caramel colored hair was in loose ringlets. Sarah had insisted that she do my make-up in order to make my gold eyes pop, whereas she did her own dark brown eyes in neutral shades to make them look more enticing.
She definitely knew what she was doing. I knew next to nothing about make-up, but I had to say, she made us both look good.
Sarah shot the man who catcalled a dirty look which made him shrink back slightly before he adjusted his jacket and turned to talk to someone else.
Once we entered the bathroom, I stepped up to the sink and carefully avoided looking at myself in the mirror as I flipped open the faucet. As soon as the water came through, I scooped up a handful and splashed it onto my face.
The ringlets of water coursed down my face leaving a refreshing feeling in their wake as I took a deep breath.
“I look like a racoon, don’t I?” I questioned.
“Pft. I’m no amateur, Aub. It’s waterproof make up,” Sarah announced as she fixed her hair in the mirror.
I chanced a peek at my reflection, and aside from the fact that I looked a little pasty, I was more or less the same as when I left the house.
We made our way back out there, and to our surprise, our seats were still empty, so we sat down, and I straightened my back.
“Okay, I’m ready to get back to it.”
“I basically proved you wrong, Aub. Just let it go already. Lose with pride, woman.”
“Never. I will never surrender,” I declared as my eyes scanned the room.
A slight prickling sensation in the back of my neck told me that we were being watched. I craned my head to peer over Sarah’s shoulder, and I was startled when my gaze collided with a pair of stormy gray eyes.
He was nursing a beer, half sitting, half standing off to the side, and his entire body crouched as if he was getting ready to run at any minute. His arms were riddled with tattoos that snaked all the way into his shirt, and I briefly wondered what some of them looked like.
I was unable to look away as he brought the beer up to his lips, parted his mouth and took a long swing. He never once broke eye contact, and I found myself swallowing deeply. His muscles flexed as he placed his drink back on the counter.
The light glinted off his dirty blond hair as he ran his hands through it. I found myself staring at his lips and wondering what his beard felt like. Would it be scruffy or velvety soft?
It had little strands of red hair, which I could see from here. We continued our little stare down, neither of us willing to back down as I nervously darted my tongue out to wet my lips, suddenly feeling quite parched.
His gaze darkened as he watched me bring my drink up to my lips and take a long healthy swallow.
“Hello? Aub? Anybody home?”
“Yes,” I mumbled distractedly as I watched the stranger chuckle at something. Some private joke perhaps.
“Really? So you don’t mind if I take over your half of the apartment?” Sarah asked, amusement lacing her tone.
I snapped back to reality as my gaze shifted to hers. “What? Of course I do.”
“Aha!” Sarah pointed an accusatory finger at me. “You weren’t listening. I knew it.”
“Yes, I was,” I muttered, defensively as I tried to avoid looking at the stranger lest I be sucked back into his hypnotic pull.
“Really? What was I saying then?”
“That you love unicorns, and that you want world peace?” I offered, hopefully.
Sarah scoffed. “This isn’t Miss Congeniality. Nice try, Davis. I can see right through you.”
“Nonsense. You can see nothing,” I insisted as I kept my eyes glued to my drink.
“Please. I wasn’t born yesterday. I can practically feel you and the stranger in the corner. You’re practically undressing each other with your eyes.”
“Not true,” I said as a blush stole across my skin.
“If that’s not true then why are you blushing right now?”
“I am not. This is my natural skin tone, so it isn’t very nice of you to point that out, S. Jeez, racism is an ugly color on you.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Really, Aub? You want to go there? You can’t pull that stunt with me. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re trying to deflect.”
“Deflect what?” I asked, innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“My ass.”
“What about it?” I asked, seriously.
“If that’s true then you can kiss my ass,” she said, sounding miffed.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not. I’m sure it’s lovely and everything, but as you so astutely pointed out, you’re not my type.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know, I have a great ass,” Sarah retorted as she sat up higher in her chair.
“I’m sure you do, but there are lines we must not cross, and this is one of them. Otherwise, I might just be all over you,” I assured her.
“Bah, you’re just saying that to get on my good side.” Sarah waved my comment away.
“That depends on whether or not it’s working,” I said, cheekily.
Sarah rolled her eyes at me. “Sometimes I think you work with kids so much that you adopt their mannerisms.”
“Pot calling the kettle black,” I retorted, hotly. “Who was it who threw a fit yesterday because the remote was not working?’
Sarah lifted her chin up. “Excuse me I was not throwing a fit. I was merely demonstrating how to keep a remote from working.”
“By slamming it so hard, it fell to the ground and proceeding to hulk stomp all around it while huffing and puffing?”
“I did not huff and puff. I was performing a sacred ritual.”
One eyebrow climbed to my hairline. “What ritual would that be?”
“The er, Sommers ritual to get the remote to work,” Sarah said, lamely.
“I know you know how lame that sounds, so I’m going to save you from the embarrassment of having to respond by pretending I didn’t hear that.”
Sarah pretended to look outraged. “I’ll have you know I can come up with very good comebacks.”
“Yes, we have already proven that,” I gestured between the two of us. “Out of the two of us, you clearly have the upper hand. I’m sweating in my sandals here.”
“Screw you,” Sarah responded, tartly as she stuck her tongue out at me.
“And I rest my case,” I said as I waved my hand with a flourish. I couldn’t help but glance back at the stranger who was standing in a different corner looking like he would rather be anywhere else.
I sighed in disappointment as I realized he probably wouldn’t glance my way again which was a shame. Not that I was going to do anything about it or anything. No, I was much too shy to make the first move.
And too self-conscious. I’d probably overthink it to death before I could even work up the courage to say hello.
My purse began to shake on the counter, and Sarah eyed it in amusement. “I think your purse is alive.”
“I think you’re finally getting a buzz,” I responded.
Sarah beamed delightedly, her face flushed. “Yes, finally.”
“That’s my Dad. I’m going to go get this. I’ll be right back,” I said, apologetically as I weaved in and out of the throng of people, including a bunch of guys who tried too hard to get up close and personal with me.
I just ignored all of it until I was finally no longer pressed against a swarm of overheated bodies, and I stumbled outside into the cool night air. I frowned as I glanced down at my shoes and decided to slip them off for a second while I stood here.
I inhaled a huge lungful of air, allowing the cool crisp breeze to refresh and rejuvenate as it made its way through my system. The slightly sharp wind was just what I needed after that cramped space.
“Hey Pop,” I said as I smiled warmly.
“Hi, bumble bee, how are you?”
Most people wouldn’t like being called that by their Dad at twenty-four, but he’d called me that ever since I was little, and I loved it. I wouldn’t have it any other way. My father could be just as embarrassing and awkward as any other parent, but I knew that when push came to shove, he was always in my corner.
“I’m good, Dad. How are you? How’s mom?”
“I’m doing good, honey. Your mom is good too, though a bit moody these days,” my father complained, good naturedly.
My parents had been happily married for forty years. They had good days and bad days just like everyone else, but the one thing they taught me was that you stuck by each other no matter what happened.
That was the key to making any relationship work, and they had instilled that within me. They often wondered why I’d never had any strong relationships aside from a string of odd ones here and there that never lasted long enough to be serious.
Then came the day when they asked me if I liked women instead. I laughed at that one and told them that I just hadn’t found the right one.
“I want to ask you something, honey, although I know it might be a bit weird,” My father began, his voice hesitant.
“What’s up, Dad?”
“I thought PMS stopped after you stop getting your period,” he blurted out, sounding sheepish.
I choked back the laugh. “Wow, Dad. There’s things your daughter never wants to hear no matter how old she is, and this is definitely one of them.”
“But we’re close, you and I, honey, and I have no one else to ask.”
He had me there. It wasn’t like he could call up one of Mom’s friends and ask her. Not that I wanted to be the one he came to for advice here, but still.
I grimaced as I pulled the phone away from my ear then put it back. “No matter how close we are, Dad. There’s things I never ever want to hear about it. To answer your question though, I don’t actually, no.”
My father sounded like he was talking to my mom in the background. “Your mother says hi.”
I heard them utter dirty things to each other, and I started to make gagging noises. “Urgh, ew, Dad. Seriously, I really don’t want to hear how you still have the hots for mom and can’t wait to get all up in there.”
“If she looks anything like you then I can’t say that I blame your old man,” a voice said from somewhere in the shadows.