Chapter 8 - Emma
Well that was rude. It was fucking rude! He ripped his arm away and stormed out of the room like I’d just insulted his mother. I was just trying to be nice! The anger is bubbling in my veins, and once again my cheeks are burning. This time it isn’t embarrassment though, it’s white hot anger. Looks like my peace offering wasn’t received as well as I had hoped.
You know what? Whatever. His loss. I can be friendly and helpful, and it turns out I’m actually a whiz on PowerPoint. I’d have his presentation looking amazing but he’s on his own. I’m done trying to be his friend. No one else seems to talk to him, so why should I. No more coffees, no more hellos, no more small talk. I won’t even look at him.
Seems like that’s what he wants anyways. I’m doing us both a favour. His loss.
My fingertips feel like they’ve been burned. His forearm was strong and muscular. I looked over at him and saw the way his chest strained against his shirt, the way the thin fabric was perfectly moulded around his shoulders.
It’s always the good-looking ones that are the assholes.
I get up out of my chair and walk out of the conference room. My desk is still scattered with papers, and I stack them all impatiently. Patients will start arriving soon, so I need to get everything back in order.
I’m just putting the last of the files back on the shelf when I hear the front door open. Turning around to greet the incomer, I see a vision in white. She’s tall, blonde, and thin. Her white dress is moulded to her perfect body and she carries an expensive-looking white leather bag slung over her forearm. A beautiful, manicured hand reaches up to remove an oversized pair of sunglasses from her face.
“Good morning,” I start. “How can I - “
“I’m here to see Elliot,” she interrupts. I bristle slightly at the lack of manners but pull up the calendar on my computer.
“Can I get your name please?”
“Oh!” She laughs without humour and waves a hand as if she’s swatting a fly. “I don’t have an appointment.”
I look up. The smile is plastered on her face but her eyes are hard. “Just tell him Melodie is here.”
“I’m sorry ma’am, unless you have an appointment I can’t let you in. We’re fully booked up today.” I don’t even know if that’s true, but I don’t like her attitude and I don’t like being treated like dirt.
She stands up straighter and raises an eyebrow. Her hands come down onto my desk, tenting her fingertips as she leans forwards. Her blond hair falls towards me and I try my hardest to stay still and hold her gaze.
“Tell him Melodie is here, and see what he says,” she says in a slow, measured voice. The meaning behind her words isn’t lost on me. She’s trying to intimidate me, let me know that she’s more important than the silly receptionist. I look at her unmoving face and decide this isn’t the time to pick a fight. I pick up the phone and dial Dr. Davis’ extension.
“Hi, Dr. Davis,” I say in a cold, professional voice. “Melodie is here, she doesn’t have an appointment, but - “
“Send her in.”
Click.
Jerk! I can’t believe he just hung up on me!!! The rage is gripping at my throat but I catch myself. I glance up at the woman in front of me. She has crossed her arms and is looking at me with a raised eyebrow. She knows she’s won, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing by how much.
“Ok, doctor. No problem.” I fake a flirtatious laugh to the empty phone line, flicking my eyes up to the woman. “Of course.”
I place the receiver down and gesture down the hallway.
“I’m assuming you know which office is his?” I say in a sickly sweet voice. My eyes are shooting daggers.
She doesn’t respond, only rolls her eyes and sashays by me. I watch her walk down the hallway and knock gently on his door. It opens immediately and she walks in. My throat closes, mouth suddenly dry.
Am I… am I jealous? Why in the world would I be jealous! Sure, she’s a gorgeous blonde who looks like a supermodel and she obviously knows him well enough to get preferential treatment, but..
Urgh. I don’t even like him! He’s an absolute asshole. He just hung up on me. I blow air out of my nostrils loudly. This is ridiculous, I’m just mad that my pride got injured, and I’m mad that he walked out on me and then hung up on me.
I’m done trying to be friendly. So far all it’s done is make me feel bad about myself.
I glance once more down the hallway and then snap my head back to my computer. It doesn’t matter who she is, or what she’s doing in that room.