Doctor Clause (Doctors of Eastport General)

Chapter Five

Stephen

Tap. Tap.

It was faint—faint enough to be ignored.

Knock.

Knock.

It was also annoying and growing louder.

“Come in!” He glanced up, instantly recognizing the woman as the one he’d left back on the main floor.

“Hi.” She inched forward, wringing the straps on a black purse. Just a bit tighter and they might have snapped right through. “I’m Leeona.”

“Well, Leeona, what can I do for you?” he asked, unsure as to why the woman was bothering him. There were no appointments on his calendar and no messages as to a new patient.

“I represent a group of mothers raising money for the children who will be stuck in the hospital for the holidays,” she said.

The drawer opened; a chequebook appearing on the desk. “How much?” A donation was manageable, if it meant the woman left.

“Oh, no,” Leeona chuckled. “Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt. I mean to say; I wouldn’t turn down a contribution to the cause, but that’s not exactly what I came to see you about.”

Scratching.

Rustling.

Ripping.

The filled-in cheque slid across the desk, coming to stop at the very edge closest to her. Rather than taking a few steps, she went up on tiptoes, stretching her neck out to see the amount written on it.

Gasp! “Wow!” she finally said. “That’s very generous of you, Doctor...” She glanced once more in a similar fashion. “Clause? S. Clause?” A schoolgirl chuckle escaped slightly parted lips. Jordan was telling the truth. “That actually makes things much easier.”

His eyes narrowed to thin slits. “What does?” He already knew the woman expected something from him, on account of his name being similar to that of the jolly old man.

“I’m.” She paused. “The mother’s club is putting together a calendar for charity.”

“No!” he exclaimed loudly.

“I haven’t finished yet,” Leeona complained. “We already have the photographer and publisher in place, not to mention the fact that eleven other doctors have already signed on to the project and had their shoots.”

“No!” he replied a bit louder.

“We only need one more doctor,” she continued, ignoring his protests. “You would be a perfect fit for Dr. December.”

“No!” he bellowed. This woman was the attractive but annoying type—the sort who rarely took a reply of any sort at face value.

“Why not?” she asked. “Do you actually have a valid reason?”

“I don’t need a reason,” he complained. “I have the right to refuse being photographed half-naked for the whole hospital to see.”

“So, you are shy?” she asked. “Hmm. We can make sure you are represented in a dignified manner.” Fingers snapped, her eyes lighting up. “A Santa suit would be perfect.”

“Absolutely not,” he raged.

“I don’t understand,” she said, shoulders and mood somewhat deflated. “Even your name is perfect for the part.”

“That’s precisely why I don’t want to,” he answered.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Leeona said, once again ignoring his words. “Is she the reason you won’t help us?”

“No,” he sighed. “I’m single.”

“You don’t like children?”

Time in an already packed schedule was ticking by and this woman wasn’t leaving. Short of throwing her out, there was little to be done.

Or was there?

“Please.” Her hands folded together, making a sign of prayer.

“You know what? Sure,” he chuckled. “Why not?”

“Really?” Her eyes widened with anticipation. “Truly? You want to fill the spot?”

“No!” A book slammed down on his desk. “I’m not interested in being your Dr. December... but I will.”

Jumping for joy, her hands came together, clapping loudly. “Oh! Thank you.”

“Wait!” he bellowed. “I will pose for the calendar, if you agree to fulfill every wish on my naughty list.”

“Deal!” With that she was gone.

“Huh?” His jaw dropped.

It worked in a sense. The woman left, but he never expected her to agree to the terms. Was she really planning on acting out a stranger’s fantasies so easily? There was a huge morality issue for both of them to consider.

Captivation?

Fascination?

Whatever the case, she’d caught his attention enough to make him shift positions. Two fingers pulled on the collar of his button-down shirt, fingers lightly caressing his neck. Work wasn’t going to get finished easily; he was completely stiff.