Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Absolutely.”
I’m going to have to be such an incredible assistant, he’s not going to be able to bear the thought of life without me. He’ll be so terrified of me leaving, he’ll be overpaying me, if anything. If I can manage Shane’s Speedway career, I can manage the diary of a new consultant, who is only seeing patients two days a week, and encourage him to pay me on time. Anything has to be easier than trying to get Shane to do things he didn’t want to do that were good for his career, like not calling all women he came across “sweetheart.” And there was the Twitter incident where he retweeted a GIF from @womenshouldnotvote.
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll have to make sure I’m unforgettable.”
“That’s the spirit,” she says. “As long as you don’t take their moods and bad manners personally, you’re going to be great.”
I smile. “Thanks. You said you looked up Dr. Cove. Anything I should know?”
“Nothing apart from the obvious. No scandals. No GMC investigations.” She pulls open the door. “Come on, I’ll show you where the loos are.”
Apart from the obvious? I really should have looked him up myself.
“Actually, I’m going to take some kitchen roll, and—” I open the kitchen cupboards one after another until I come across some glass cleaner. “And this. The windows are a little mucky.” I make a mental note to bring down some water for Pamela the Palm.
“We have a cleaning service.”
“It’s fine. It’s not like I’m busy. And I need to make myself unforgettable. Remember?”
I follow Jen out of the tiny kitchen and up the corridor. “You have a water dispenser in there, don’t you? But no coffee. It’s not a huge deal, especially as Dr. Cove is just starting out, but at some point, he needs to invest in a coffee machine.”
I nod, taking it in. Maybe I’ll get a budget to manage eventually.
“It took Dr. Newman two years to get one of those little machines, but we got one a couple of months ago. Patients love it. It gives them something to focus on if he’s running late.”
“Do they run late a lot? Or wait for test results or…” I stop and realize I have no idea if patients will be waiting for test results. Did gastroenterologists use blood tests?
“All the time. Oh, and I set Dr. Cove up with TBTC, the bloods clinic further down Wimpole. Everyone uses it. If his patients need blood tests, that’s where you’ll send them.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “Anything else I should know? Even the obvious might not be so obvious to me.” I’m desperate to know what’s so obvious to her—both about the job, and Dr. Cove.
She points out the loos as we get to the bottom of the steps.
“I think that covers it, but I’m just here, next door to you if you need anything.”
We stop outside the door.
“I don’t suppose you know where I get a computer?”
She shakes her head. “Sorry, no. Maybe Dr. Cove will have you go and buy one. They’re all pretty clueless when they start out. But we do have a number for computer support that all the doctors in the building can use.”
That will be useful if and when I ever get a computer. Maybe Dr. Cove is one of those old-fashioned types who likes everything done on paper. God, I hope not.
“Okay, well, I’ll get to cleaning windows and catch up later.”
“Ciao.” She blows me a kiss and I smile, like that’s a normal thing for an almost-stranger to do.
I head back to the waiting room and begin to clean the windows. I’m not going to start to rearrange things until I meet my new boss and establish what he’s going to like and not like. I’m not upsetting the apple cart so early in the game. But no one can complain about clean windows.
I’m wearing a knee-length black skirt that’s a little tight, but if I shimmy it up, I can take the large step onto one of the visitor chairs to reach the top of the windows. I’m seventy-eight percent sure that none of the pedestrians passing below can see my underwear—but it’s mainly because seventy-eight percent of them won’t be looking up.
The door to the waiting room bangs open and then, just like my brother did when my mum walked in on him going through the lingerie section of the Next website, I shriek and topple over.
The next thing I know, I open my eyes and stare up at a Greek god standing over me.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
I stare at the most perfect mouth I’ve ever seen. His lips are full and the color of ripe cherries, and his cupid’s bow has peaks that would make Everest jealous. “I think I need mouth to mouth.” The words are out before my brain can put all the pieces together and realize I’m probably talking to my boss.