Hitting Below The Belt

CHAPTER 1

Dr. Stein, I realize you have a personal life, Natalie rolled her eyes skyward. but you’re letting it interfere with your professional life. It is completely unprofessional to come into the office an hour late and wearing the same clothes for the last two days. Natalie Bigelow, office manager and acting nursemaid to the newest addition to their practice, chastised him.

At age twenty nine, Dr. Drew Stein was single, hot and loose as goose grease—whatever the hell that was. Romancing the ladies in the large professional building both he and Natalie worked in was interfering with his practice of medicine. She knew the man was a gifted charmer when he chose to be, he just chose the female population to use it on.

Bigelow, just because you’re frigid is no reason to begrudge me my pleasure. Natalie gasped and pulled herself to her full height.

Jesus, I’m getting a chill just standing in the same room with you. Lighten up, would you? He tucked his shirt tail back into his pants and ran his palms down the front of his shirt, as if that would flatten the wrinkles. Thank goodness her office door was closed

Do you really think your patients have nothing better to do with their time than sit in the waiting room reading four year- old magazines? I’ve started getting complaints from the other practices we share our waiting room with about the congestion out there. If you prefer to start later in the day, She pointed her finger at him, just say so. We can start patients at ten instead of nine, if you want.

What I want is for you to let me get to work. I’m behind, as you so sternly pointed out. We can discuss this later. He grabbed his lab coat and covered his rumpled shirt, buttoning it so only his messy tie showed. At least his tennis shoes were still clean. What kind of doctor wears tennis shoes to work?

Fuming in fury, Natalie made her way back to her office, shooting an exasperated glance at the poor receptionist who had borne the brunt of all of the patient’s anger. Nothing she did lately was right. If she went to Dr. Dickenson, the senior member of the staff, to complain she would have to deal with his booby prize of a wife—literally. Paige Dickenson, or as she was known around the office, Paigezilla, had the hots for Dr. Stein, and it was only a matter of time before that boat sailed. Paige was thirty years younger than her husband and screwed anything that stood still too long. And it seemed every man was so willing. Anywhere or any time.

Why did men think with their genitals? Was it some kind of Neanderthal survival instinct? Whoever screwed the most women won? Dr. Dickenson had only been widowed for a month before he’d married this trophy wife. His first wife had been married to him for thirty eight years and was the salt of the earth. Talk about opposites. Paigezilla had taken complete control of the practice once Natalie’s father, a doctor in practice with Dr. Dickenson, had passed away last year. Natalie managed the office, while Paige spent all the money. She stopped in occasionally, although much more often since Dr. Stein had joined the practice, only to go over the books and complain about how short money was. There was only one reason this practice was still afloat, and that was because of the two-party checks they used. Without Natalie’s signature no check was valid. But that didn’t stop Paigezilla from empting the petty cash reserves regularly. She figured it was worth the two hundred or so dollars to keep wifey from bankrupting the entire practice.

If she hadn’t promised her father and the hospital that she would stay on one full year to train the next office manager, she’d be outta here. Her father had instilled in her a sense of honor and responsibility. Medicine was serious business that required one’s full attention. The warning buzzer of the physician’s entrance door being opened startled her. It could only mean one thing. Paigezilla.

Her evil laugh filtered down the hallway to Natalie’s office, making her skin crawl. Had it really only been two months since her father’s death? It felt like fifty years.

Just as I thought, Bigelow, you’re sitting there like a queen on her throne. Enjoy it now, because in ten months your ass is grass.

Paige, how dreadful to see you again. Already done feeding on small children and animals so early in the day?

Paige stood there in her skin tight designer clothes, dripping in diamonds and gold. She smelled like a French hooker after a full night’s work. Her heavy, perfectly applied makeup lay on her face like a mask, not disguising her horrid personality, rather, reflecting it. Ruby red fingernails the size of talons rested on her bony hips.

Now, now, lets not be so cranky. You need to clear out of your office for a while. I have some business to attend to and I need some privacy.

You can use your husband’s office, he’s in surgery this morning.

Not today, toadstool. Since this will eventually be my office I want to work out of here.

Well, if you’re here to work you’re about two hours late. Natalie made a point of looking at her wristwatch.

Ha, ha. Don’t make me call security, Bigelow.

Fine. I’ll just take what I was working on into another office. She grabbed the checkbook and a few reports and began to head out the door. A talon tapped her arm lightly as she moved past Paige.

Leave the checkbook, I’m going to need it.

Not without my signature, you’re not. Don’t forget, office policy is to photocopy each and every check that leaves this office. No exceptions. We don’t want a repeat of last month’s embarrassing human resources reprimand now do we? Natalie smiled a fake, mean smile.

You don’t need to keep rubbing that in my face, Bigelow. Just hand it over and let me deal with the rest.

With a huff Natalie roughly shoved the book into the other woman’s hands, wishing it was going into another orifice of the evil body before her. Tempting, very tempting. Natalie was pretty sure she could take her physically, if need be. On second thought, why bother? It wouldn’t be long before the woman was done digging her own grave.

After checking in with Doris, their receptionist, she headed out the door and toward her sanctuary, the stairwell. It was the only place in the whole building where she could have a minute to herself, and she needed one right now. Paige always raised her temper, and today was no exception. She shoved the bar stretched across the stairwell door so hard it slammed with a thud. Once encased in the cool, well-lit space she sat on the top step and took a few deep breaths. How could she have allowed her life to take such a downward spiral? Maybe she was still depressed by her father’s death, although when his time finally came it had truly been godsend. He had suffered so much with his cancer, somehow managing to keep it a secret until the very end. She took some comfort in the fact that he was no longer in pain and had reunited with her deceased mother, whom he’d loved dearly until the day he died. Both were now at peace. Now if she could only find her own peace.

She sat on the step, arms wrapped around her knees and head bent down in thought. Lucky for her she wasn’t a crier or there would be a waterfall running down the stairs in front of her. Tears wouldn’t solve her problems. Nothing could solve her problems. She was stuck for another ten months dealing with a clueless, elderly doctor who let his money-grubbing wife and the boy-toy of the week she was screwing at the moment have complete control. How could such a smart, educated man be so stupid? Not my problem at the moment. Paigezilla had made friends with the higher-ups in the human resources department of the hospital that owned their practice. Being the doctor’s wife automatically made her a superstar in their eyes.

Natalie had her contacts, but they were much more practical allies, people who could help the practice run properly on a day-to-day basis. They could care less about financial reports and fund raising events. They were the grunts who made things run smoothly, just like she did. In the distance she heard footsteps coming toward her as they rapidly descended the stairs. Whoever it was spoke out loud…no make that yelled, into a cell phone. She couldn’t make out the exact words, but the inflection of frustration was unmistakable. Before she could scoot out of the way a very large man’s foot came down hard on her hand that had been braced to help her stand.

Ahhh! With a struggle she pulled her hand out from under the surprised man’s foot. She looked down at her red, swelling fingers, shaking her hand vigorously to make the pain go away. When that only made her see stars she stopped abruptly and held the hand to her chest, cradling it with her other hand.

I’ll call you right back. When she looked up she saw a tall, lean, handsome man looking down at her. An irritated expression on his face, he silently held out his hand, wiggling his fingers as a command to her to let him see the damage. When she didn’t comply he cursed on a breath.

What the hell’s wrong with you? Don’t you know you shouldn’t sit on the steps? What if there had been a fire, you would have been trampled to death. Let me see the damage.

I’m fine, and it’s none of your business what I’m doing on the steps. Take a hike, asshole. Before he could answer she whirled around and hurried back through the doorway to her office. She walked into the nursing station and took an ice pack out of fridge and placed it on her fingers. She managed to move them a little, though they were sore and swollen. At least they weren’t broken. In a couple of days they would be as good as new. She wished she could say that about the rest of her life.

When she walked out of the nurses station she took in the complete chaos of the office. Two of the medical assistants were running like crazy, trying to please Dr. Stein. She heard some muffled shouting before a treatment room door opened and a crying medical assistant raced out of the room, red spots dotting the front of her scrubs. Was that blood?

Nancy, what’s wrong? She held out her arm and ushered the weeping woman into the nearest empty treatment room, quietly closing the door behind them. Pulling a few fresh tissues from the box on the counter, she moved to the sobbing assistant and handed them to her. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was only eleven o’clock in the morning. Still plenty of time for things to get even worse.

Okay, spill it. What did Dr. Dickhead do now? At least that’s what she wanted to say.

Please, tell me what happened, Nancy.

The sobbing woman blew her nose before speaking.

The story that stumbled out of her mouth was appalling. Between sniffles she relayed the temper tantrum Dr. Stein had in the treatment room. Apparently she hadn’t been moving fast enough to suit him, and he’d begun to throw bloody, four by four dressings at her, causing her to spill betadine down the front of her scrubs. All of this taking place in front of the patient was a new low, even for Dr. Dickhead.

I’m so sorry this happened, Nancy. I want you to stay in here until you feel comfortable coming out, and then take the rest of the day off, with pay. I hope you know how much I value you, and I’ll be sure to let Dr. Stein know how inappropriate his behavior was. She hoped Nancy would stop in at Human Resources and file a complaint against the asshole, but of course she couldn’t say that out loud. She stormed toward the treatment room where Dr. Stein had given the floor show, hoping the doctor was still with the same patient.

Dr. Stein poked his head out the door and yelled at the top of his voice, HELLO! I NEED HELP IN HERE. SOMEONE COMPETENT WOULD BE NICE.

Plastering a fake smile onto her face, she headed into the room, ready to do battle.

Hello, Mrs. Daniels, how are you today? She watched the patient visibly relax in the chair. Relief graced her face as she shot a worried look at the back of Dr. Stein’s head. Natalie winked at her, hopefully reassuring her that everything would be all right.

How can I help you, Dr. Stein? She bit her tongue to keep from sticking it out at him.

I need a new dressing on Mrs. Daniels’ wound. Put a little antibiotic ointment on the gauze and wrap it firmly, the old bandage didn’t last long enough. He began to move out of the room when she grabbed his arm roughly, slightly pinching him through his lab coat to get his attention.

Did you have anything you needed to say to Mrs. Daniels, doctor? She tried to hint for an apology, but he was too dense to understand.

Oh, yes, I’ll see you in a week, Mrs. Daniels. Before he could go, Natalie added.

Annnnnd. Didn’t you want to apologize for the disruption? She kept her voice low, hoping only Dr. Stein could hear her.

Yes. I’m very sorry for the substandard actions of the medical assistant. I promise to correct the staffing issue before your next visit. Have a good week. He jerked his arm from her grasp and stomped out the door.

Without missing a beat Natalie redressed Mrs. Daniels wound and sent her on her way. Inside she was seething.

This means war!

CHAPTER 2

The rest of the afternoon Natalie filled in for the missing medical assistant, smiling at Dr. Stein every chance she got, the whole time plotting her revenge. After the office had emptied out for the day she sat at her desk and started a list of planned attacks. Dr. Stein was about to have a run of bad luck, poor darling. First on her list was to cut him where it hurt. His wallet was going to be very lonely with only his drivers license in it.

Darn payroll was going to get behind, just because she had to fill in for Nancy instead of doing her paperwork. She couldn’t imagine when she would get a chance to cut Dr. Stein his check. Darn it all. With her tongue in her cheek she locked up the office and took to the stairwell to go home, with all the problems Dr. Jerk had caused, she had forgotten all about her earlier mishap with Twinkle Toes. The memory of his fresh, clean male scent filled her senses as if he were standing next to her again.

Normally she would go home, wolf down a frozen diet dinner and head out to do some country line dancing, her first love and passion. She knew every country western bar in the tri-county area, even though she didn’t drink. One of the things she liked most about line dancing was that she didn’t need a partner to do it. It was something she could do by herself. After a full day of dealing with people sometimes, all right, most times, she wanted to be left alone to do her own thing, dancing. She knew the dances so well she didn’t have to think about them. She could let her mind wander while her body got exercise and relaxed.

When she slid behind the steering wheel of her car she let out a long sigh, then began to pull the pins out of the tight bun on the top her head. She hated having to wear her waist length hair in a bun, but Paigezilla had filed a complaint with HR that her hair was getting in the way of her ability to do her job. Rather