5. Aries
Aries
M y day had gone to shit, and after sitting in the conference room with Skylar all damn day, I didn't feel like going back to my office to do post op notes or anything else. It was time to bounce and go grab a drink. There wasn’t anything I needed in my office, and I always locked it on my way out, so I headed straight for my ride after leaving Skylar.
My usual stool at my favorite bar was calling my name.
There was some exclusive bourbon waiting with my name on it.
Upon entry of the bar, everything looked normal. What I wasn't expecting when I took a seat was seeing my brother behind the bar.
"Marcus! Why are you standing behind the bar of my favorite spot?"
"Check it, Angela, the woman I went home with last night, just so happens to be the silent partner here."
"I'm still trying to figure out what that has to do with you being behind the bar."
"She's gonna be my wife, man!" he replied, still not providing an answer that made any sense.
I really didn't have the mental capacity to deal with Marcus' shit. The man was forty and fell in love with every woman he dated; then found a stupid ass reason to fall out of love with them a few weeks later. The shit was ridiculous.
"So, you found your future wife last night, and now you're a part of the business?"
"Something like that."
"Well, then get me my usual," I told his stupid ass.
Thankfully, Marcus flagged down the real bartender and told him to get us two bourbons, neat. Then he came around the bar and took a seat on the stool next to me.
"It's early for you, to be drinking. What's up with you?"
"I've been practicing for years and now I'm the chief orthopedic surgeon, trying to do my best to keep my head down an do my job..."
"Nigga, you're the loudest, cockiest muthafucka I know. The fuck you talking about you do your best to keep your head down?"
I sipped my drink and let out a chuckle.
I guess he wasn't wrong. When I finished medical school, at first, I wanted to be the smart man, the leader, the Black man that kept his shit quiet, but then I thought about it, and realized that the world wanted to squash me, and my voice. Other surgeons expected me to be humble because I was the Black man who made it through the vigorous years of education and residency without seeing others who looked like me around. My peers tried very hard to use their numbers against me. So, one day I woke up, remembered who the fuck I was, and realized I didn’t have to be humble or quiet.
From that moment on I thrived being loud, proud, and confident in my skills.
I was just as proud, as the doctors around me, of all I accomplished.
Why did I have to chill because I was Black?
Nah, fuck that! If anything, my further starting point proved that I had what it took.
Fuck humility. Hard work and dedication got me to where I was in life, and I was going to celebrate that shit.
"My point is, I don't need any negative shit following me at the moment, and recently, the hospital has been put on notice of a potential lawsuit. I know for a fact I didn't commit malpractice, but you know all everyone is going to see is that the Black man messed up."
Marcus placed his hand on my shoulder. "Damn, bro, I'm sorry this is happening to you. I'm sure the hospital assigned a good attorney to you. You're the chief ortho surgeon. They're not just gonna leave you stranded."
“Nah, they set me up with a fine ass Black female attorney, but for as good as she looks, she’s a fucking pain in the ass. Do you know she canceled one of my surgeries?”
“Now, I do,” Marcus replied laughing. “I take it your ego didn’t take that very well.”
“Fuck you, Marcus.”
“Aww! Sexy lawyer hurt your little feelings?”
I downed the last sip of my bourbon and prepared to get up. “My day was shitty enough. I don’t need any shit from a nigga that falls in and out of love faster than a fourteen-year-old girl.”
It was my brother’s turn to rebuke me.
“Whatever, fool. At least I’m not being sued for millions of dollars.”
“You’re so damn immature, Marcus.”
Before I could turn to leave, a beautiful woman walked up to us with a bright smile on her face. For a second, I thought about turning on the charm and getting her to come home with me. Getting lost in some pussy wouldn’t be so bad right now. She definitely had my attention.
Then my annoyance only intensified when Marcus opened his mouth.
“Angela, baby, come meet my brother, Aries.”
Get the fuck outta here, I thought.
Not that my brother couldn’t pull a fine ass woman, but damn, Angela was fine as hell. Then, it hit me… Marcus and Angela… what in the Boomerang hell was this? This had to be the corniest, yet most prophetic shit ever.
“Hi, Aries. It’s nice to meet you.” She looked down at my empty glass. “You want another?” she asked.
“I was getting ready to get out of here, but what the hell… why not.”
“See, I told you,” Marcus leaned over and whispered in my ear as Angela turned to grab the bottle to pour us another round.
"What? That she's fine as hell? I'm not blind," I told my brother, accepting another drink from Angela.
"No, that she's my future wife," Marcus replied with a smirk.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Here we go again. My brother was already planning a wedding after one night. This poor woman had no idea what she was getting herself into.
But what got my attention was the fact that Angela was looking back at my brother with just as much delusion in her gaze.
"So, Aries, Marcus tells me you're some hotshot surgeon," she said, leaning against the bar.
"I'm alright," I replied, taking a sip of the bourbon. The amber liquid burned in the best way possible as it slid down my throat.
"Don't let him fool you," Marcus jumped in. "My brother is the youngest chief of orthopedic surgery at St. Ambrose. He's just being modest for once in his life."
"Yeah, well, being the best doesn't mean shit when someone's trying to sue me for something I didn’t do.”
"A lawsuit?" Angela's eyebrows shot up. "That's rough. What happened?"
I waved her off, not wanting to get into the details with a stranger, especially one who was probably going to be another one of Marcus's short-lived relationships.
"Nothing. Just some patient who isn't happy with his recovery time. It'll get sorted."
"By your fine ass attorney," Marcus added with a smirk.
I glared at him. "Watch it."
"What? I'm just repeating what you said."
Angela looked between us, clearly amused by our brotherly bickering. "I take it this attorney has made quite the impression?"
"Yeah, an impression like a boot to the ass," I muttered, taking another sip. "She canceled my surgery today to make me sit in a conference room for six hours going over medical records."
"She's just doing her job. Don’t be too hard on her.”
I looked over at my brother, and he was just sitting there grinning back at me with a dopey look on his face.
“What? You should listen to her. She’s a very smart woman.”
Because after one day, he had firsthand knowledge of how smart she was.
I finished my second drink and decided to call it a night for real this time. I wasn’t about to sit and listen to two love-struck fools.
“I’m going to get out of here. I need to get some rest. Hopefully, there won’t be any surprises tomorrow. Y’all be safe.
I needed to get the hell out of there before I said something that would piss off my brother and his new "future wife." I threw some cash on the bar, enough to cover my drinks plus a generous tip, and stood up.
"It was nice meeting you, Angela," I said, trying to sound sincere. "Good luck with this one."
Angela laughed. "I think I can handle him."
"That's what they all say," I muttered under my breath as I headed for the door.
Outside, the cool evening air hit my face, and I took a deep breath. The day had been a complete shit show from start to finish, and all I wanted was to get home, take a hot shower, and fall into bed. Maybe things would look better in the morning, but I doubted it.
As I walked to my car, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, half expecting it to already be Marcus with some more nonsense about his "future wife," but instead, it was an email notification. From Skylar Wise.
"Jesus. I cannot escape her,” I spoke out loud even though there was no one to hear me.
I ignored the message and put my phone back in my pocket, deciding that I would at least enjoy my ride home.
However, the drive home was a blur. Traffic was light for once, and I found myself pulling into my condo's parking garage sooner than expected.
I sat in my car for a minute, letting the silence envelop me.
After a few minutes, I knew I couldn’t ignore my phone any longer. So, I pulled it out of my pocket, thinking that I would read Skylar’s message now, but put whatever it says behind me for the rest of the night.
I should have known that would be a mistake that I wouldn’t be able to correct.
Subject: Follow-up Meeting - Simpson Case
Dr. Yerba,
After reviewing additional notes from Mr. Simpson's physical therapist, I've identified some inconsistencies we need to discuss. I've scheduled us for tomorrow at 10 AM in the same conference room. Please be punctual.
Additionally, I've reviewed your O.R. schedule and left your 2 PM procedure intact, as it appears to be urgent.
Skylar Wise, Esquire
Of Counsel, St. Ambrose Memorial Hospital
My head instantly dropped, and my hand came up to rub my temple.
Great. Another day of no cutting. I need to cut, I thought.
If she thought I was going to respond to her damn message she would be disappointed. Instead of rolling my truck window down and throwing the phone across the parking garage, I stuffed the damn thing back in my pocket. I grabbed my briefcase and headed to the underground elevator.
Upstairs in my condo, I poured myself three fingers of whiskey and collapsed onto my leather sectional. The amber liquid burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the irritation burning in my chest. Skylar Wise was getting under my skin in ways I didn't appreciate.
I pulled out my phone again, staring at her email. "Please be punctual." The woman had some nerve. I was never late to anything that mattered. Today was different… I was making a point. But apparently, she thought I was some irresponsible asshole who couldn't manage his time.
What really got to me was how she'd taken control of the entire situation. In the O.R., I was king. My word was law, and everyone moved around my schedule, my preferences, my expertise. But Skylar had walked into my domain and flipped the script like she owned the place.
What is it about her? I thought, downing the contents of my glass, hoping it would help with allowing me to have a restful night’s sleep.
The last of the liquor did nothing to remove my thoughts of Skylar.
I couldn’t get her out of my head. The way she'd handled me today, shutting down my bullshit without breaking a sweat.
Most people either kissed my ass because of my position or were intimidated by my size and attitude.
But not her. She'd matched my energy and then some.
And that's what was getting to me. I couldn't remember the last time someone had put me in my place like that. The alcohol was warming my body, but my mind was still racing. I needed to get some sleep if I was going to be "punctual" for tomorrow's meeting.
I dragged myself off the couch and headed for the shower, stripping off my clothes as I went.
The hot water cascaded over my tired muscles, and I closed my eyes, trying to clear my head.
But instead of emptiness, all I saw was Skylar's face—those fierce eyes challenging me, that full mouth set in determination.
"Fuck," I muttered, turning the water to cold. This was not the time to be fantasizing about the woman who was trying to save my career. I needed to focus on the case, on proving that I hadn't made any mistakes with Marcus Simpson's surgery.
The cold water was a shock to my system, and for a few minutes, my mind shifted from Skylar. That shift didn’t stay in place for long. As soon as I tossed my towel to the side, and climbed in my bed naked, thoughts of Skylar Wise came back full force. When my eyelids shut, she was all I could see.
I was fucked.