12. Skylar
Skylar
D amn, I wish we could have stayed in LaLa, or more like Lust, Land. Yet, I had a job to do, and Aries and I had business to handle.
"I know," Aries replied, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Before we get started, I want you to know that I don't regret last night."
I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. "Neither do I. But today we need to focus on preparing for Monday."
"So, what's the plan, counselor?" He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, looking infuriatingly confident.
He rubbed his hand over his neatly trimmed beard, studying me, and I had a feeling that he was inquiring about more than our legal plan of action, but I was going to ignore his silent question for now because I had no fucking clue.
I moved to the living room where my laptop sat on the coffee table. "First, we need to get ahead of this. I'm going to draft a motion to dismiss that we'll file the moment they submit their complaint. I'm also going to request sanctions against Morton Chivy for contacting your department directly."
Aries followed me, taking a seat beside me on the couch. "Will that work?"
"It may cause him to pay a hefty fine, but I doubt that a judge will throw the entire case out. What it will do, is paint a terrible picture of who he is and how he operates as an attorney with the court.”
“What about Mr. Simpson being hospitalized?”
I smirked at Aries, and he tilted his head to the side, looking at me curiously.
“What?”
“Well, I did a little digging yesterday while waiting for you to get out of surgery, and I have that part covered.”
“Oh yeah? You want to share?”
“Mr. Simpson was admitted to one of our sister hospitals across town, and well… the systems are available to the entire legal department. Attorneys can get called in to represent a doctor at any of St. Ambrose’s affiliate hospitals, so we have access to the entire medical records system.”
“Damn! Smart! So, was he admitted for complications from surgery?”
“Absolutely not! He was rushed to the hospital and into surgery because his gallbladder ruptured.”
“Son of a bitch!” Aries growled.
"Morton Chivy is a fucking snake," I said, shaking my head in disbelief. "He's trying to connect a ruptured gallbladder to your hip replacement."
"That's ridiculous," Aries said, running a hand over his beard again. I noticed he does that when he’s frustrated or deep in thought. "Those two things aren't even remotely related."
"Exactly. And that's what we'll argue. But more importantly, I can use this to show the court that Chivy is deliberately trying to mislead and manipulate the facts." I typed furiously on my laptop, making notes for my motion. "This actually gives us more ammunition than I expected."
Aries leaned closer to look at my screen. The scent of him—a mixture of my soap and something distinctly him—was distracting, but I forced myself to focus.
"So, what do we do next?" he asked.
"We pounce as soon as this sham of a complaint gets filed with the court. I’ll have my assistant stalking the docket, and run down to court to get a copy.
If I’m right about his underhanded tactics, he’s going to try and have you served at the hospital to create more chaos and a big news story.
I know you’re not going to like this next part…
” I trailed off, already seeing the fight enter Aries's eyes.
“What are you about to say, Skylar?”
“You should cancel all of your surgeries until I get the answer filed. Let’s not give him his little five minutes of fame.”
“No.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“Because you know enough about me by now to know that I’m not no fucking pussy.”
“Why Dr. Aries Yerba! Such a potty mouth you have. What happened to that refined educated medical professional?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Sky. I’m not cancelling my surgeries.”
I rolled my eyes. I knew that was going to be a battle I wouldn’t win. “Fine. But you have to go into the hospital before the sun rises, go straight to the O.R. floor, and do not leave said floor. That’s the only way I will agree to not cancelling your day.”
Aries let out a loud sigh, but with the way his shoulders sagged, I knew he would do as I suggested… no, ordered—because it wasn’t a fucking option. Aries could stay the fuck away from the hospital, or he could go into the hospital and live on the O.R. floor until I said otherwise.
“I’m tired of saying this, but fine, you win.” Before a smile could grace my lips, Aries added, “You better keep that smirk buried, or else I’m going to bend you over this fucking sofa and fuck the shit out of you.”
Shit. Did the temperature suddenly increase twenty degrees in my house? Scorching heat quickly consumed me, and my pussy was doing flutters at the thought of being on the receiving end of that threat.
Down girl! I ordered my pussy. She was purring, and ready to fall back into Aries’s lap.
“No smirking. I promise!” I told him.
Monday as expected, was an absolute shit show. Press surrounded the hospital trying to get information on the medical malpractice suit of the year. It was so bad that I had to throw in an unplanned press conference.
“Why is Dr. Yerba not out here speaking up for himself?” A reporter asked when I was wrapping up the press conference. I refused to hold it inside the hospital, eliminating the possibility of anyone trying to sneak off and play Private I.
So, as I stood wanting to escape the morning chill, my blood instantly boiled at the dumb ass question.
“Because that is my job. If doctors had to take time away from saving lives for frivolous lawsuits, then how would I fill my day?” Before the reporter could follow my statement with something even dumber, I added, “And that was a rhetorical question. No need for a response. You all have a good day. I sure do hope you find more interesting stories to go after today.”
There wasn’t shit else let to say. I already allowed the reporter to bait me into saying more than I normally did, but the attack felt personal.
Probably because of the feelings that were blowing me away when it came to Aries.
The way I began to care about him overnight—literally over night because a week ago he got on my last damn nerve—should be studied.
I shoved through the glass doors of the hospital, my heels clicking against the marble floor with more force than necessary. The press conference had gone better than expected, but that last question still had my jaw clenched tight. The audacity of some people never ceased to amaze me.
My phone buzzed in my purse, and I pulled it out to see a text from Aries.
Dr. Arrogant: Saw the press conference on the break room TV. You handled that beautifully. Thank you.
The tension in my shoulders eased slightly. At least he appreciated my efforts, even if some jackass reporter wanted to question why he wasn't out there defending himself.
Me: Just doing my job. How's your day going? Any unwanted visitors?
Dr. Arrogant: All clear on the O.R. floor. Three surgeries down, two to go. You were right about staying put.
Me: I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?
Dr. Arrogant: Are you serious right now? You can literally just reread my text.
Me: I’m just saying… I may need to call you and hear your voice reiterating your text. My eyes may be playing tricks on me.
Dr. Arrogant: What the young kids say… Bye girl!
I laughed out loud and drew attention to a few of the people walking the halls. Aries had me so out of sorts, but it was what I needed—especially this morning.
Shaking my head, I laughed again, still caught off guard by how easily Aries could shift my mood. I tucked my phone back in my purse and headed toward my office, feeling lighter despite the chaos of the morning. I wasn't going to let Morton Chivy or his underhanded tactics ruin my day.
When I reached my office, Leslie was already at her desk, typing furiously.
"How bad is it?" I asked, pausing at her desk.
"Your inbox is flooded with press inquiries, the hospital administrator called three times, there's a stack of new cases on your desk that need immediate attention, Chivy's already making the rounds on local news.
" She didn't look up from her computer. "Oh, and your father called. He saw you on the news."
"Of course, he did," I replied, ignoring the former information. “I don’t have time for him right now. I’m sure he’ll continue to blow up my line until I answer. We need to tackle so much right now.”
“Tell me about it,” Leslie replied.
My immediate focus would be to respond to Chivy's complaint, which was every bit as ridiculous as I'd anticipated. He was trying to connect Aries' hip replacement to Simpson's ruptured gallbladder through some convoluted theory about "systemic inflammation" caused by "surgical negligence."
I was about to demolish this muthafucka!
By the time I sat down and logged into my computer, Leslie brought in a cup of coffee for me, and I dove into drafting my response. The motion to dismiss practically wrote itself—Chivy's arguments were so flimsy that I almost felt bad for him. Almost.
Three hours later, I had a twenty-page motion that would hopefully make this case disappear faster than Chivy's credibility. I was just putting the finishing touches on it when my phone rang.
"Skylar Wise."
"Ms. Wise, this is Morton Chivy. I think we should discuss a settlement."
I nearly choked on my coffee. The balls on this man. "Mr. Chivy, you just filed your complaint this morning. What makes you think I'm interested in settling anything?"
"Well, given the media attention this case is receiving, I thought your client might prefer to handle this quietly. I'm prepared to accept a reasonable offer."
"Let me be crystal clear about something. We will not be settling. See you in court… if you make it past my motion to dismiss. Good day.”
Dr: Arrogant: Can I leave the O.R. floor yet?
Me: I’m surprised you’re asking for permission.