Chapter nine
Varley Medical, London
Samantha
My new place of work is a modern, purpose-built facility in the center of the city.
The outside of the square building is covered in large, smooth white panels and reflective silver windows.
At the entrance, signified by a canopy and two large marble pillars, sit two highly polished ambulances painted in white and red.
The words “PRIVATE AMBULANCE” are boldly printed down the side.
Perfectly designed planters filled with green foliage are strategically placed around the edge of the pavement, almost creating a barrier between passersby and the hospital.
We pull into the underground car park, and I duck instinctively as we pass under the height restriction barrier.
Connor’s vehicle is nothing like Russell’s low, sporty one.
He drives a colossal off-road Jeep, one you have to climb up two steps to get in.
The front and rear are protected by thick metal bars, which sit in stark contrast to the bright red paint.
Today was my first time seeing his car. Living in the city, anytime we have had plans, we’ve called a taxi or simply walked where we needed to go.
What I’m sitting in now is the complete opposite of what I expected Connor Chase’s car to look like.
For a quiet, unassuming man in so many ways, what he drives makes a statement on the road.
The red and white striped barrier lifts, and we drive into the best-lit parking garage I’ve ever seen. Each space has a small light above it indicating if it’s available or not.
“There’s a space there,” I say, pointing to a place between two small cars.
“No, we want two spaces together.” His eyes keep scanning as he drives slowly up and down each line of parked cars.
“You’re one of those arseholes, aren’t you?” He stops the car and turns to face me. I stare straight back at him, trying to keep my face blank which is difficult considering all I want to do when I look at him is smile.
“What arseholes?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His shirt sits open at the collar, the soft material skims over muscle that I am getting to know so well. He holds my focus with strong, direct eye contact.
“The ones that park over two spaces like they’re driving a fucking army tank.” He laughs, his face lighting up in amusement. I smile goofily back at him.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
After a few minutes, we find what he is looking for—two parking spaces side by side.
Connor reverses into the gap, ensuring he covers the center of the spot, minimizing the risk of his car being hit accidentally by another driver.
When he’s happy with our position, he turns off the engine and removes the key.
“You ready?” he asks, cocking his head to one side and smiling. I sit in the passenger seat, my nerves rising by the second. My hands, which are twisted in my lap, sweat lightly. This is potentially the most nerve-wracking day of my whole life.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I tell him, then push open my door before stepping out.
Connor gets out as well, then walks around to meet me.
I shrug the small backpack I have over my shoulder, then touch the charms on my lanyard, ensuring they are still there.
It’s crazy how important small pieces of metal can become so quickly.
His eyes follow the movement of my hand, and he wraps his fingers around mine.
“I am one hundred percent with you today,” he says softly. “You’ve got this.” Then he encourages me toward the elevator to the floors above.
We reach the doors, and he takes both my hands, pulling my body forward against his and wrapping my arms around his waist.
I blink up at him as he gazes back. “This is your stop.”
He leans down and kisses me, strong and domineering.
His tongue pushes into my mouth, sweeping across every surface.
His hands lift, and he cups my face, holding me to him, not letting go until he’s completely satisfied.
“Um…are you trying to make me horny before my first day?” I ask, digging my nails into his ass. His cock is hard against my stomach, so I push a little harder against him, lowering one hand to cup his balls through his suit trousers.
“No, I just didn’t want you to forget me in your new life. But you have that effect on me—one look at you and I get a boner.”
“I could never forget you,” I whisper, placing my lips at the base of his throat. He moans gently above me, a distinctly male sound. “I’ll see you and your boner later?”
“Call me when you’re finished, and I’ll come to collect you.”
“No need. I’ll get the underground.”
He waves away my comment with a scowl. “It wasn’t a request; it was a statement. I will pick you up. I want to hear all about your first day, and I don’t want any interruptions. Violet has something planned for us all this evening to celebrate. Once we get back to The Level,
I probably won’t get near you until she’s bled every detail from you.”
I laugh out loud, but the expression on his face tells me he’s serious. And he’s probably right; Violet can be demanding when I am in her company. Having lacked female friendship in her life for so long, she gets carried away when we’re together and forgets that anyone else is there.
“Okay, I’ll call you,” I relent, sensing that allowing him to do this is important to him.
“Good,” he says, leaning in for a final kiss. “Then once we’ve been sociable tonight at my sister’s fucking party, I’ll take you to bed to celebrate properly.”
“I can’t wait.”
His hand reaches out, pressing the call button for the elevator.
The doors immediately open, surprising us both.
I step inside, and he stands back, his eyes not leaving mine until we can’t see each other anymore.
Clutching my lanyard, the elevator rises, and I smile at myself in the mirrored wall.
Here I am, walking into a new job, having recently moved into a better apartment with Mia, and tonight going back to the most amazing man.
It’s astounding how life can change in a matter of months to something completely unexpected.
The numbers on the display count up slowly from minus one to level four, where I’ve been told to go.
After what feels like an eternity, the elevator stops, and the sleek stainless steel doors open into a reception space.
It’s surprisingly quiet, not like the publicly funded hospitals I’ve been in before, which all seem to be crammed with never-ending lines of patients.
There are only two ladies in the waiting room, both sitting on large leather sofas and reading glossy magazines.
Taking a breath to steady my nerves, I start my walk across the pristine white marble floor to the desk on the opposite side of the room. A gentleman there sits on a large leather chair. He presses his lips together in a painful smile as I approach.
“Good morning, welcome to Varley Medical. How can I help you today, ma’am?” he says professionally. My eyes focus on the navy Varley Medical logo prominent on his pale pink shirt before holding his gaze.
“I’m Samantha Coleman. I was to report here on my first day. I have an appointment with Dr. Rivera.”
“Ah yes, the new trainee. I’m Bryan, and I run the reception desk on this floor.”
He stands then offers me his hand. We shake, and his grip is surprisingly firm.
He looks older than me, possibly in his mid-forties, with waved blond hair that flops over his forehead and bright-blue eyes.
“Welcome to the team. If you follow me, I will take you through to meet the doctor.”
Bryan moves to the side of his desk and gestures toward a corridor at the far end of the reception area.
He walks in that direction, and I scurry after him.
The passageway is lined with stark white doors that blend into the walls painted an identical color.
Each one has a silver plaque with black writing detailing the name of the person who owns it or what the purpose of the room is.
At the very last door on the right-hand side, he stops and raps, alerting the occupant to our presence.
“Come in,” a shrill voice trills. Bryan pushes open the obstruction and leads me inside.
“Dr. Rivera,” he says formally. “Your new trainee is here. Samantha Coleman.”
“You’re late,” she snaps frostily. Confused, I glance at my watch, I’m ten minutes early.
“Leave us, Bryan. I will call you when and if I decide Samantha needs a tour of the facilities.”
My escort gulps involuntarily; his eyes tell me he’s wary of his boss, and my initial impression isn’t great either. With almost a bow, he leaves.
“Good morning, Dr. Rivera,” I say politely. “I want to thank you for the opportunity…”
“Yes, yes, take a seat. If you will be working in my department, I need to know who I’ve hired.”
She leans back in her highbacked red velvet chair and tents her fingers in front of her.
Most likely in her early forties, she’s a slim woman with overly taut skin and a bundle of jet-black hair twisted precisely on top of her head.
Her features are sharp and her eyes dark; I’m unsure if she would ever be able to look happy.
I wander over and sit down on the small gray standard chair opposite her, then place my bag on the floor.
She surveys me curiously, taking in my basic appearance in my winter coat and leggings.
I will my feet to stay steady and keep my shoes on the ground.
The last thing I want to do is annoy her with inane nervous foot tapping.
“You certainly have friends in high places,” she says. “No qualifications relevant to working in the medical sector, and yet you’ve managed to secure a fully funded training placement.”
I balk at the directness of her words. The source of the funding and indeed the job offer is still surprising, I was told it was a previous scholarship application that had been reassessed.
My suspicions lead to Connor, but anytime I’ve broached the subject he has denied any knowledge, insisting it must be the scholarship.
When Violet questioned how I was able to give up work and focus on my new career on a trainee’s salary, I told her I had come into an inheritance.
It felt the easier option than her going all investigator on me.
“The offer was as much of a surprise to me as anyone,” I reply. “But I’m delighted to have the opportunity, and will work hard both in the hospital and on my studies.”