“She’s upset about the bill she just received.”
“Crap,” Jannie muttered under her breath. “Don’t tell me.”
Sandy nodded grimly. “It happened again. Her insurance refused to cover the treatment, and she’s freaking out. She says it’s our fault that they declined it, and she wants to talk to you.”
Jannie pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. These insurance companies were the bane of her existence. How was she supposed to treat people when everything she wanted to do was denied?
“Tell her I’ll call her as soon as I finish with—”
“She wants to talk to younow,” Sandy said. “I tried to tell her you were with a patient. She won’t take no for an answer.”
Jannie sighed.
Which patient should she piss off this time: the one on the phone who was blaming her staff for something beyond their control or the one waiting in the room in front of her whose appointment was rescheduled because Jannie had been on medical leave?
As if in answer, an irritated voice came from inside. “I’m waiting in here!”
Jannie gave Sandy a pointed look. “She’swaitingin there.” Pressing down on the door handle, she gave the receptionist her best reassuring smile. “Tell Cassie I’ll call her right after I’m done here.”
“All right.” Sandy wasn’t pleased, and it showed. Shoulders sagging, she turned, shaking her head as she hurried back toward the reception area.
“No,” came from inside Room 5. “No, she hasn’t. I’m still fucking sitting here.” A pause. “I don’t know what’s taking so damned long. My appointment was almost an hour ago. If they knew the wait was this long, why did they put me in the room? To freeze my ass off and stare at gross posters of the female reproductive system?”
Jannie took a deep breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. Then, she knocked.
“Gotta go,” she heard the patient say. “She finally decided to show up.”
Jannie’s stomach knotted. Her heart started to pump harder despite her efforts to remain calm and composed.
“Yeah,” the patient bit out, “come in.”
Squaring her shoulders and plastering a smile on her face, Jannie opened the door and stepped into the exam room. “Hello.”
A young woman sat on the table, her nostrils flaring, eyes flashing, jaw tight. “You’re late,” she said, declaring the obvious with blatant hostility.
“I’m sorry for the wait,” Jannie said pleasantly.
“Yeah, right!” the woman yelled. “I have been sitting here naked in this stupid paper gown, freezing my ass off! And this appointment is doubly late because you were supposed to see me last month!”
Jannie schooled her features.
Professional. Remain cool and professional.Saying nothing was what she had to do, no matter how difficult it was to stand there and take it.
The woman’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I hope you enjoyed your vacation.”
Jannie swallowed back an acid retort.Yes, I enjoyed bleeding, hurting, and crying.She had returned to work after two weeks, thinking that keeping busy would alleviate the sadness and all-consuming sense ofemptiness and loneliness. But on days like today, she wished she could teleport elsewhere.
Thankfully, the rest of her six-and-a-half-hour shift went smoothly. One of her favorite patients showed up with her new baby, flowers, and cookies for the staff, bringing much-needed brightness to Jannie’s day. But by the time she finished seeing the last of her thirty-two patients and completed the two hours of necessary charting, she was drained.
Closing her laptop, she rubbed her temples, dreading the seventy-two hours she’d be on call this weekend.
This wasn’t how she had envisioned being a doctor. Her mother’s insistence that Jannie should pursue her second career choice—caring for women and delivering babies—had turned into deep disappointment and the greatest regret of her life.
For what seemed to be the thousandth time in the past year, she wondered what her life would have been like had she followed her dreams and gone into aviation. Her younger brother Ian had also tried to take a different path, only to abandon his law practice and join the family business.
She stood and rubbed her aching lower back. Retrieving her vintage Balenciaga Weekender tote, which doubled as a gym bag, she unzipped the front pocket and rummaged inside for her car key.
Her fingers closed around the fob, and she smiled, anticipating driving her Panamera, the sole good thing left from her marriage. Blake had ordered the Porsche GTS for himself in black. On divorce day, she called the dealer and changed the allocation to orange. It was a fantastic color for a Florida car, and she felt exhilarated and free every time she turned the ignition key and heard that engine growl.
