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“How's Michael doing?” I asked.
“He's doing great. The break is healing up just fine,” he said. “He's a lucky kid.”
“Yes, he is,” I said. “So how many patients like Michael do you help? I had no idea you did that sort of thing, it's not really well known.”
“And I intend to keep it that way,” he said, side-eyeing me. “I don't want people knowing about it. That's my little thing – my private little thing.”
“Why? You don't want people to know Dr. Gavin Pierce has a heart?” I laughed.
We pulled up to the restaurant and he passed his keys off to the valet, avoiding my question until we were inside and seated, where I brought it up again.
“I just don't need the kudos for doing it,” he said with a shrug. “I'm not doing it for the praise or the publicity. It just sort of happened, you know? And schools know it, so when a kid has trouble paying for medical expenses, sometimes they send them my way.”
I could tell Gavin was uncomfortable and didn't really want to talk about it, which endeared him to me a little bit more. It almost made up for the rest of his demeanor and reputation. Almost.
“So how many people like Michael have you helped?” I asked. “Rough estimate, of course.”
He sighed. “I don't know,” he said. “I don't keep score. It's not about that for me.”
“Estimate,” I said again with a smile.
Our waiter served us some wine and we ordered dinner as Gavin continued to avoid answering me. I kept pressing him, grilling him until I got the answers I was looking for.
“Well, if I had to guess, I'd say somewhere between ten and fifteen kids last year?” he said. “Yeah, I think it was maybe eight guys and four girls, I believe?”
“Girls too, huh?” I asked.
“I didn't think I'd have to remind you that women are also athletes, Morgan,” he said.
“Yeah, but after our first day working together, I thought perhaps you didn't think women and athletics mixed,” I reminded him.
He cringed. “Yeah, about that – I was in a shitty mood and said some things I regret. Of course women play sports. Of course they're knowledgeable about them.”
“I thought maybe you were going to say they were all cheerleaders,” I teased.
“Some were, but not all,” he said with a small shrug.
I could tell my boss was getting a little uncomfortable as I kept up the third degree, but for whatever reason, I kept pushing the issue. Perhaps weeks of pent up frustration was finally coming out with the help of the wine. I was fascinated by this dual personality.
But I could tell he was trying to be better about things and figured that I needed to chill out. Especially if I wanted things to continue to go well on this internship.
“Enough about me,” he said. “Tell me about you, Morgan.”
“Well, you already know why I want to be in this field.”
“No, not about your career or your father,” he said. “About you. What do you do when you're not working or studying?”
His question took me by surprise. I tried to remember what I did before medical school got in the way of normal life.
“Well, I like reading, listening to music, relaxing on the water,” I said. “My dad used to take me out on his boat and I loved listening to the water crashing into the sides as I stared out at the sea.”
Gavin listened – he actually listened – as I talked my dad and his boat.
“What happened to your dad's boat?” he asked.
Before I could explain how my brother inherited it – and sold it – a woman began hysterically screaming Gavin's name from across the bar.
“Gavin Pierce,” the blonde said, walking over to our table with a scowl on her face. She looked at me, then back at my boss.
