Free The Pleasure of the Dean by Ann Marie Nelson Page B

at the US Surgery Pavilion past 5PM.   After hours trauma cases were diverted
to Oceanview Medical Center, which had the staffing to handle late night
emergencies.

 
    She checked her email, absentmindedly
fidgeting with the hem of her short black t-shirt dress.   The hemline was higher than she usually
wore at work.   Sophie tried to convince
herself she wasn’t wearing it for Cole.   A day away from his all-consuming presence allowed doubts about their
relationship to creep in.   Sophie
was resolved. They had to stop seeing each other.   She couldn’t risk being kicked out of
her residency program - again.

 
    The break room door swept open.   Sophie looked up, expecting Cole, but
Dr. Mapleton walked in instead.   He
looked disheveled.   Dr. Mapleton’s
wrinkled button down shirt and dark brown slacks looked slept in.   Sophie stood up, feeling awkward.   They hadn’t seen each other since her
near termination.

 
    Bruce spent the afternoon celebrating his
impending victory over Cole.   First
he created online mock-ups of his future business cards, then he polished off
his flask of bourbon, and finally Bruce capped off his afternoon with a quick
nap on his office couch, to recharge.   When he woke up, Bruce poured himself a refill from the bottle of liquor
in his desk drawer and set off on an evening constitutional.   Bruce walked through the medical center,
his future domain, and imagined the changes he’d make to the decor once he
ascended to the position of Dean.

 
    He walked into the surgeon’s waiting room,
intending to survey the existing furniture in order to determine if it should
be reupholstered or completely replaced.   As luck would have it, Sophie was in there.   Alone.

 
    “Dr. Mapleton,” she said.   “How are you this evening?”

 
    “Splendid Sophie,” he said.   Bruce gave her the once over, pausing to
leer at her bare legs.   It was a
shame they were usually concealed by her scrubs . “Just
lovely.   Can I offer you a
drink?”   Bruce pulled a flask out of
his pocket, and held it out to Sophie.   “Don’t let the humble container deter you, it’s single barrel straight
Kentucky bourbon whiskey.”

 
    “No thank you Dr. Mapleton,” Sophie replied, nonplussed.   It was the first time he called her
anything other than “Dr. Benedict.”   Also, as she well knew, Dr. Mapleton was a stickler for the rules.   US policy stated doctors were not
allowed to drink on campus.   The
fact Dr. Mapleton was toting around a flask and appeared visibly inebriated was
shocking.

 
    Bruce chuckled.   “I’m taking the night off,” he said with
a shrug, as if it explained his erratic behavior.   “Celebrating.”

 
    “What are you celebrating, sir?”

 
    “The downfall of a man and the ascension of a
king,” he said dramatically, taking a swig from his flask.   “By the way my dear, you look stunning
tonight.”

 
    “Excuse me?” Sophie said.   She shook her head, as if to clear
it.   Sophie thought Dr. Mapleton
complimented her appearance.   She
must have misheard.

 
    “I like this look on you,” Bruce continued,
gesturing to her outfit.   “It’s
sexy.   If only you wore dresses in
clinic instead of those shapeless scrubs.   It’d make working with you more pleasant.”

 
    Sophie definitely hadn’t misheard him
earlier.   “Your comments are
inappropriate and bordering on sexual harassment, Dr. Mapleton,” she said
firmly, trying not to lose her cool.   “I understand there is bad blood between the two of us, but I’m hoping
we can maintain a professional working relationship.”

 
    “Let’s not pretend, Sophie,” he replied,
walking towards her.   His temper
flared quickly, fueled not only by her words but also by his inebriation and
disdain for Cole.   “You and I both
know the only reason you’re still employed by this hospital and in my residency
program is because you’re fucking Cole Armstrong.