Chapter 7
The reporter finally left me alone and went back to sitting with Justin while I busied myself taking notes on what adjustments I was going to make to their clinical charting system.
I tried not to listen. I mean, what did I care that Justin was using this as a means to make himself look good and get more rich people to donate to his cause?
All I needed to focus on was putting my nose to the ground and working. One quarter and my tuition would be paid for.
“So, how many high-profile celebrities have you treated since announcing the new project?”
Behind the safety of the monitor, I rolled my eyes. This guy sounded like a gossip writer.
“I don’t see how that has anything to do with the current project, also I’m not permitted to discuss my clients with you.”
My ears perked up.
Justin didn’t want to brag?
“Sure, sure, but that’s how you made it big, you did Baylor Switches’ nose before she got famous.”
“Again, I don’t see the relevance to my current project.”
I straightened up in my chair by an inch to slip a peek over the ledge.
Justin looked irritated and sexy as hell, while the reporter typed up notes.
“With this clinic spreading your name and brand further throughout LA, are you prepared for the influx of clients? Was that part of the plan? Are you expanding?”
A vein ticked in Justin’s forehead. “Mr. Gracelyn, the sole purpose of this clinic is to help those that need help. Cleft palates were something I specialized in during my residency, and I plan to continue giving back to the community by offering whatever services are needed. Many surgeons that have signed on for this are doing the same. This is a passion project of mine, something that has been a goal for many years and means a great deal to me. Many low-income families need financial assistance after traumatic accidents. If immediate attention isn’t given, injuries can become chronic, life altering.
Improper setting of bones, untreated wound care, the list is endless.
This has nothing to do with expanding my brand,” he spat the word brand, “and everything to do with improving quality of life for burn victims, amputees, and trauma patients. Now if you have any questions pertaining to what I just discussed, I would be happy to answer. If not, I believe this interview is over.”
I stared.
The reporter sputtered. I imagined his face was purple.
Justin’s eyes flicked to mine and I dropped back under the privacy of the reception ledge.
Holy shit.
Watching and listening to Justin put that man in his place was…electrifying.
Despite myself, a newfound respect for Justin bloomed.
I’d thought his clinic was nothing but a ploy for him to gain more attention. To hear Justin speak about it so passionately made me question everything I knew about him.
“You want me to what?”
Three days in and Justin wanted me in the patient rooms.
“Midge is tending to another patient, and this is only a consult. I need you to take notes; expectations, allergies, budget, etcetera, sound feasible?” Justin’s arms bulged where they crossed over his chest. He’d been a little short ever since the reporter visited. And I can’t say I blame him.
The article had been posted, with only one sentence about the lower income clinic.
Meanwhile the phones have been ringing off the hook. People forgetting they’d had Justin do their noses or Botox or breasts and now that he was back in the media, they wanted a follow-up.
I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be irritated at the influx of work. It was kind of admirable.
“You do realize I’m not good with people, right?” I took the clipboard he handed me.
Other than Zoe, I didn’t really have much of a social group.
“I’m aware.”
Well, can’t say I didn’t set myself up for that one.
We worked in silence prepping the room.
“Plans for the weekend?” Justin broke the silence, setting out a handful of brochures with different nose structures on them and varying operation styles.
My stomach turned. “Work.”
“What about for fun?”
I didn’t know where this chit-chat had come from, but I found myself answering anyway. “Work is my fun. My schoolwork. Programming.”
My answer had him lifting his head, brow cocked. “There has to be something else you enjoy?”
The question shouldn’t have flustered me, shouldn’t have stumped me, but it did, and heat rose to my ears.
A knock on the door saved me. Justin’s part-time receptionist showed in a tall blonde followed by a timid teenager with brown hair that fell to her waist.
“Dr. Kingston,” the woman crooned and did that rich thing where she air-kissed his cheeks, her greedy hands squeezing his arms.
My fingers curled around the clipboard before I could stop them.
I peeled them off, I shouldn’t care that a woman wanted to touch him.
I don’t care.
That’s what was normal, a woman closer in age to him than me being interested.
This ugly feeling inside me had no right to be here, bubbling up my throat.
The fact that the woman didn’t once acknowledge her daughter put my back up. The girl couldn’t be any older than seventeen, if that. She huddled into herself and without prompting, went to the chair in the middle of the room, the paper crinkling under her as she took a seat.
“You remember my daughter, Winny?” The woman only had eyes for Justin, she didn’t even notice the way Winny flinched when she spoke her name.
Justin noticed and the irritation lingering at the corner of his eyes disappeared as he stepped around the Barbie mom and approached the patient chair. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” Taking the rolling stool, Justin lowered himself to it.
It made him less intimidating and I knew he’d done it on purpose.
“It’s nice to meet you, Winny. My name is Justin,” he smiled and Winny’s cheeks turned bright red.
Unlike with Barbie mom, her response to Justin made me smile.
“Hi,” her voice was soft as I’d imagine a cloud.
“How old are you, Winny?” Justin asked, shooting me a pointed look.
Remembering I actually had a job to do, I shook myself and readied the pen in my hand.
“Fifteen.”
I wrote it down.
Holy shit. Fifteen? What was she doing here?
Barbie mom flounced closer. “Winny’s sweet sixteen is coming up and her father and I are getting her a nose job. Poor thing had it broken playing some dastardly game in junior high.”
Winny ducked into herself. Her nose looked fine to me.
A slight crook could be seen at the bridge, but if anything I thought it made her look cuter—tough. I’d like to think she didn’t always act this shy, that deep down she was a warrior waiting for her moment.
“I see,” Justin’s voice was carefully neutral as he scooted closer to Winny to study her face. “And do you notice any breathing issues with it as it is? Trouble sleeping? Sense of smell?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Barbie mom snapped before Winny could open her mouth.
I really wanted to kick Barbie mom out of the room.
“A lot actually,” Justin pinned her with a look, those azurite eyes flashing with annoyance.
Barbie mom’s mouth snapped shut and my respect for Justin grew a little bit.
“Now,” he diverted his attention back to the young girl before him, his voice once again soft and supple. “Can you answer the questions, Winny?”
She shook her head. “No problems.”
Her mother huffed, crossing her arms, some designer handbag swaying aggressively in her arms. “We’ll not have her looking like that for her big day. We’re getting a portrait done and…” I zoned her out. It was either that or lose my shit.
This mom didn’t know how beautiful her daughter was. She didn’t even care.
Justin rolled away from Winny to discuss logistics, sounding none too pleased. I took the opportunity to slide closer to Winny and further away from the snarling blow-up doll that was her mother.
I couldn’t help but see part of me in her. There but unseen. I guess the only compensation I had was that my mother never wanted to change how I looked.
“For what it’s worth,” I murmured to her, catching her attention. “I think your nose makes you look tough.”
She perked up before deflating again. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”
My throat grew thick and I tucked my pen away to take her hand in mine. “Taking away the bump won’t take away the toughness.” I squeezed her fingers. “You’ll still be you, and you’ll still look beautiful.”
Her smile made her look so incredibly young and my heart ached for her. If it wouldn’t have looked so unprofessional, I would’ve asked for her social media accounts to be friends.
A weight settled between my shoulders, a hot caress, and I glanced over to see Justin watching me raptly.
I released Winny’s hand, but I could’ve sworn I saw a ghost of a smile on Justin’s lips before he turned back to Barbie mom.