8. Jack
8
JACK
H olding the phone receiver to my ear, I listened to the insurance agent going on about their policy and what would happen if the lawsuit actually went through, and then again if it was approved and I was found at fault or neglectful. I'd dealt with these people before, though never like this, and it wasn't like I could switch insurance agencies. There were very few who would handle someone like me, with an at-risk label smacked across my name thanks to this lawsuit.
"So what you're saying is my rates are going up no matter what?" I scowled. It felt like the scowl was permanently etched on my face now. I hated all of this and how it was affecting my entire life. It wasn't just my job. This increase would eat into my income and lower the amount I could put into my retirement.
"Dr. Stewart, you have to understand our position. You pay those premiums to make sure the client's claim is covered if they sue and win. Doctors who pay their minimum premiums and never have a claim cost less to insure. Doctors who are at-risk have to pay more. I'm sure you understand." The woman's nasally voice grated on my nerves, fraying them to the point that I felt like snapping.
My mind was scattered and overwhelmed. I wished Ashley were here because I'd at least have a good distraction, if not a fantastic orgasm, to help the tension melt away and my body to destress.
"I do understand. What I don't understand is why you're saying they'll go up when the suit hasn't even gone to court yet. We're still waiting on the autopsy." I pressed my eyes closed and took a deep, calming breath. This thing had been dragging out for too long. I needed it to be over. I needed to have my life back.
"No, that's not what I’m saying, sir." The agent sounded as flustered as I was. "I was giving you a courtesy call to inform you of the new rates should this get as far as court. You'll need an attorney, and we will provide one, but that alone will raise your rates. Do you understand now?"
I understood and it made sense, but I hated it. "Yes, thank you. Look, I need to go. Just let me know if you know anything from your end. I have patients to see."
"Of course, Dr. Stewart. Nice speaking with you." She hung up, and I dropped my phone into my lab coat pocket. Dealing with insurance agents, investigators, board members, lawyers, and staff had pushed me to the brink of what I was emotionally capable of dealing with and remaining calm. I walked around the hospital brooding and grumpy most days now, and it wasn't a good feeling.
The only ray of sunshine in this stormy sea was Ashley Sutton, and she was still just as off limits to me as she had been before we had sex that second time. I was playing with fire, but I couldn't stop myself. When the world felt crazy, she felt safe. I'd come to rely on our lunches together. They'd become my venting sessions, dumping the stress of this case onto her. She was so good at listening and redirecting my thoughts. On days like today when I didn't get that time with her, I had the urge to go to the bar and drink myself silly.
If I sat here sulking and feeling sorry for myself, I'd end up pulling the bottle of scotch out of my desk drawer and drinking on the job. That would definitely not earn me any points with the malpractice insurers. So, I forced myself to my feet and left my office.
It was lunch time, and my stomach rumbled, but I hadn't packed lunch today. I told myself it was because there was nothing good to eat and I needed to hit the grocery store, but deep down, I was lying. I wanted to go to that cafeteria to casually bump into Ashley. She was on the prowl, sniffing out any person in the hospital who had an insight into what had happened with my patient.
However, when I walked into the cafeteria and saw her sitting across the table from Dr. Gooding, my chest constricted. Gooding had no reason to feel ill will toward me. We had never interacted. Oncology had an entirely different set of surgeons who worked with them, especially given his specialty was pediatrics. It frustrated me that Ashley was eating with him. She was supposed to be avoiding him under the guise of being married to me, and there was nothing he could help with.
So I stood in the corner of the cafeteria despite my grumbling belly and folded my arms over my chest. The place was packed, so many people in here, there was no way I'd ever be able to hear what Ashley and Sam were saying to each other. Their interaction seemed easy and casual. He was laughing. She was leaning in. She glanced around but didn't look in my direction, and then she touched his hand.
It made my blood boil and my throat constrict. I felt like I was replaying my past again. I'd seen my ex do this before everything fell apart for us, and it wasn't but a few weeks before that happened.
When Barbra decided she wanted a man seven years younger than us and walked out on our marriage, I swore I would never be with another woman who had roaming eyes. Seeing Ashley even speaking to that sweaty pool boy of a man who lived next to Calvin had enraged me. I cornered her and demanded that she swear she was mine, and here I was, watching her fawn over her ex-boyfriend.
I yo-yoed between anger and despair. This couldn't be happening again. Just when I thought I might have found a woman who fit, one who understood me and wanted me the way I wanted her, she's dining with another man, laughing at his jokes, touching his hand.
Saturday afternoon's barbeque came back to mind. Ashley's aunt had grilled me, asking very personal questions that were none of her business. At the time, I felt uncomfortable, but it had made me process my thoughts later on. Why was I still single? Did I really want to be single? Why had I told them I had no time for a relationship? And when Ashley pointed that out after I cornered her, it hurt, almost gutted me.
What she and I shared was hot and passionate, but was it only the sex she wanted? Did that man make her happier? He was, after all, her same age. Ashley could never really love a man fifteen years older than her, could she? And why would she want to? She had her whole life ahead of her. She was only playing when she agreed with me that her body was mine. There was no way she'd go exclusive with me.
I stormed out of the cafeteria without even getting lunch. I was upset for being fooled into thinking something was happening that wasn't. Or maybe I was too sensitive and blowing things out of proportion, but I just couldn't sit back and watch her fawning over another man. Sandra was right. I needed a good woman, but I needed that woman to need me too.
If Ashley wanted just the steamy sex, I could play along for a while, but not if my heart was getting jerked around. I had to set some boundaries. And I had to do it soon.