Chapter Eight
Damien
“Then let me speak to another doctor,” I said to the young Omega standing in front of me. “How many hours have you been out of medical school anyway?”
“Mr. Raoult, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to leave,” Dr. Babypants said.
“Look, I’m willing to make a substantial donation to this hospital if you will just get me another doctor. I’ll take anybody who is done with their residency.”
The doctor left in a huff, and I realized it was the second time that day that I’d had that effect on someone who was trying to help me.
An hour later, an older doctor came into the room and pulled a chair up next to the bed. He sat their quietly while reading over my chart.
“Mr. Raoult, I’m Dr. Farns. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and I hope that your stay at our hospital has been a pleasant one. I apologize that I haven’t been in to see you until now. I’m usually the first person the hospital sends in to welcome our more distinguished guests. I’m not sure why I wasn’t informed of your being here, but I assure you that it will be handled. Whoever dropped the ball will receive a corrective action.”
The ass-kisser had arrived. Good. That meant I was a big check and some glad-handing away from being swept out of the hospital through the back door on a cloud of well wishes and admiration.
Just the way I liked it.
“Thank you for coming, Dr. Farns. I’m sure you’ve been told that I’d like to leave, and I’d really rather not just walk out.”
“Your doctors are concerned that you aren’t well enough to leave the hospital. A businessman such as yourself understands that opens us up for liability. We also care deeply about your well-being.”
I liked how he threw in the part about my well-being at the end. “If it puts your mind at ease, I’ll have my personal physician liaise with the hospital during my recovery. I just feel that I would be better off recovering at home, and since I can afford personal medical care, it’s not as if I’m just walking out of the hospital onto the street. If I’d been awake when I was brought here, I would have called my personal physician into consult with you anyway.”
The part about me making a generous donation to the hospital wasn’t a lie, but the part about me walking out of the hospital onto the street was. I cut them a check, signed the papers, and then walked out the back door of the hospital into the alley.
I was sure that my people weren’t far away but I’d told them to give me space. My driver was most likely a couple of blocks away from the hospital, waiting for me to call, but I was determined to walk. You’d think that after what I’d been through, I’d want as big a security detail as my money could buy. I didn’t. What I wanted was to not be me anymore. If I wasn’t Damien Raoult of , none of this would have happened in the first place.
I turned onto the street and walked until I heard music spilling out onto the street. I looked up and saw a neon palm tree. The Ocean Bar looked as good a place as any to grab a drink. After all, I was starting to dry out after how many days without booze? I couldn’t let that happen.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one taken in by the siren song of this place. As soon as I walked in the door, I saw Rory sitting at the bar. I debated walking back out for about ten seconds. Then his Alpha scent hit me again and I decided to stop being a stupid asshole for at least a few minutes.
Rory sat at the bar, staring into his beer with a gloomy expression that pulled at heart strings I didn’t even know I had. I couldn’t help but feel responsible.
He looked up at me when I sat down but didn’t say anything. In another life, Rory would have made an excellent businessperson. He knew that whoever speaks first loses, and he was more than willing to keep his mouth closed and listen. That had to be his maturity.
Even though he was at least a few years older than me, it didn’t show in the way his muscles cut lines in his tight shirt. There wasn’t a hint of gray in his wavy blond hair either. It was hard to place him, as if he were ageless. The only thing that gave away that he was older was the slight crinkle of laugh lines around his eyes. It didn’t make him look tired, but instead gave his face a distinguished and loving air.
“Two of your best whiskeys neat, please,” I said as the bartender appeared in front of me.
The seasoned bartenders could smell a good tip from a mile off and made me a priority as soon as I sat down. It was something about being raised with money, and I couldn’t wash it off no matter how much I wanted to blend into the world.
Less than a minute later, I had two generous fingers of whiskey in each glass placed in front of me. I handed the bartender that little black piece of plastic that let him know that I was now his most important customer. I wondered if he’d ever had one of those in here, but it didn’t matter. People recognized it as soon as I pulled it out of my wallet.
“Please put my friend’s dinner and any drinks he’s had on my tab,” I said and turned to Rory. “We should talk.” I pushed one of the glasses in front of him. “This doesn’t change anything. You still owe me a drink.”
“You shouldn’t be out of the hospital, let alone drinking whiskey,” Rory said, but there wasn’t a hint of condemnation in his voice. He was concerned.
Even after the terrible way I’d acted, he was still being kind to me. I’d met a lot of people in my life but I’d never met one like Rory. Not being able to immediately put him in a box made it easier to relax. The burn of the whiskey mixed with whatever painkillers were still in my system helped too.
“You don’t like whiskey? I can get you something else.”
“I will sit here and drink your expensive booze with you, but only if you promise to drink it slow and take it easy. I won’t have you overdosing yourself right here in front of me,” he said and picked up the glass.
“Deal,” I said and clinked his glass. “So, what’s an Alpha like you doing in a bar like this?” I asked and waggled my eyebrows at him.
Rory laughed and it was a beautiful sound. I couldn’t believe how happy it made me just to see him smile.
“Are you flirting with me, Damien Raoult?” he asked as another round of laughter made his massive shoulders and chest shake.
It was as if he’d been under intense pressure and the valve had been released. Rory’s whole demeanor changed. His posture relaxed and an unguarded smile spread across his face.
“Would that be alright?” I asked, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. It was almost enough to make me throw out a joke or say something mean just to make the feeling end, but I didn’t. I sat there, bared to Rory, and waited for his response.