nurse, she quickly made her way back to a small, sterile white room and put her backpack on the floor in the corner.
The nurse was quick with her chores of checking her blood pressure, going through the questionnaire and taking her blood. When she was done, she informed Stacey that the doctor would be in to see her momentarily; so she would need to change out of her clothes and into the blue, paper examination gown on the table.
Taking her time after she was left alone, Stacey pulled off her favorite, distressed jeans and t-shirt, boots and socks, and made a neatly folded pile in the chair.
Sitting on the small bed, she looked around the room with her hands clasped as she listened to the people move about outside the door. She always got nervous at the doctor’s office, and the result was often itchy, sweaty underarms. Running her thumb under her wet arm pit, she took a deep breath and rested back on the examination table.
Knock. Knock. She sat up as the door opened. Showtime. The mysterious Dr. H. C. Fourakis walked in with a clipboard in-hand and closed the door behind him.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Bryant,” he greeted, looking up from his paperwork.
“I don’t believe it,” Stacey said flabbergasted. “ You are Dr. H. C. Fourakis? As in Hunter, the drink hustler ?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Life could be so cruelly ironic at times. He would die if he knew that she actually went to bed thinking about him the night before.
Hunter put down his blue clipboard and tried to wipe the devious grin from his face. “In the flesh,” he said, leaning against the workstation across from her. “This is how I pay the bills. The drink hustling is my night gig.” His brows pinched down as he studied her.
“You’re an OB/GYN?” She shook her head in disbelief. Go figure.
“It’s a family practice actually. My dad was the first. My sister and I run it now. So, you see there is really no need for me to be too boisterous. I’m just playing copycat here.” He sat down on the white stool in the corner and pulled a sleek silver pen from his white smock. “So, what are we doing today?”
Stacey pulled her little paper gown around her, uncomfortable with being nude with a man who had tried to pick her up twelve hours before. “ We are not doing anything. If your sister isn’t available, then I’ll change doctors with my insurance company and reschedule for a later date somewhere else with someone else. But there is no way in hell that I’m going to let you...” She didn’t bother to finish her statement, certain that he understood her concern.
Both of their eyes wondered to her covered vagina.
“Well, I don’t want to lose your business. I’ll see if Hanna is available,” he said, standing up. He walked over to the door and stopped. With a quick turn in his brown loafers, he faced her. “I hope you won’t let last night effect your impression of our practice. We’re very professional here and devoted to women’s healthcare.”
Stacey slumped down on the bed and shook her head. “I’ll give your sister a chance,” she said, feeling sorry for him. “Just hurry up before I change my mind.”
Hunter put up his hands and smiled. “Great,” he said, showing his dimples. “She’ll be right in, and I’m leaving right now.”
***
An hour later, after Dr. Hanna Fourakis, an equally attractive and young likeness of her brother, had seen her, Stacey emerged from the doctor’s office with a positive experience minus the encounter with Hunter, the drink hustling OB/GYN .
Slipping on her backpack, she mounted her Vespa and prepared to head home when a black Toyota 4runner pulled in front of her.
“Hey, did everything turn out cool?” Hunter asked, taking off his shades.
“ Turn out cool ?” Stacey smirked. “Are doctors supposed to talk like that?”
“Like what?” Hunter asked. Putting the car in
The nurse was quick with her chores of checking her blood pressure, going through the questionnaire and taking her blood. When she was done, she informed Stacey that the doctor would be in to see her momentarily; so she would need to change out of her clothes and into the blue, paper examination gown on the table.
Taking her time after she was left alone, Stacey pulled off her favorite, distressed jeans and t-shirt, boots and socks, and made a neatly folded pile in the chair.
Sitting on the small bed, she looked around the room with her hands clasped as she listened to the people move about outside the door. She always got nervous at the doctor’s office, and the result was often itchy, sweaty underarms. Running her thumb under her wet arm pit, she took a deep breath and rested back on the examination table.
Knock. Knock. She sat up as the door opened. Showtime. The mysterious Dr. H. C. Fourakis walked in with a clipboard in-hand and closed the door behind him.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Bryant,” he greeted, looking up from his paperwork.
“I don’t believe it,” Stacey said flabbergasted. “ You are Dr. H. C. Fourakis? As in Hunter, the drink hustler ?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Life could be so cruelly ironic at times. He would die if he knew that she actually went to bed thinking about him the night before.
Hunter put down his blue clipboard and tried to wipe the devious grin from his face. “In the flesh,” he said, leaning against the workstation across from her. “This is how I pay the bills. The drink hustling is my night gig.” His brows pinched down as he studied her.
“You’re an OB/GYN?” She shook her head in disbelief. Go figure.
“It’s a family practice actually. My dad was the first. My sister and I run it now. So, you see there is really no need for me to be too boisterous. I’m just playing copycat here.” He sat down on the white stool in the corner and pulled a sleek silver pen from his white smock. “So, what are we doing today?”
Stacey pulled her little paper gown around her, uncomfortable with being nude with a man who had tried to pick her up twelve hours before. “ We are not doing anything. If your sister isn’t available, then I’ll change doctors with my insurance company and reschedule for a later date somewhere else with someone else. But there is no way in hell that I’m going to let you...” She didn’t bother to finish her statement, certain that he understood her concern.
Both of their eyes wondered to her covered vagina.
“Well, I don’t want to lose your business. I’ll see if Hanna is available,” he said, standing up. He walked over to the door and stopped. With a quick turn in his brown loafers, he faced her. “I hope you won’t let last night effect your impression of our practice. We’re very professional here and devoted to women’s healthcare.”
Stacey slumped down on the bed and shook her head. “I’ll give your sister a chance,” she said, feeling sorry for him. “Just hurry up before I change my mind.”
Hunter put up his hands and smiled. “Great,” he said, showing his dimples. “She’ll be right in, and I’m leaving right now.”
***
An hour later, after Dr. Hanna Fourakis, an equally attractive and young likeness of her brother, had seen her, Stacey emerged from the doctor’s office with a positive experience minus the encounter with Hunter, the drink hustling OB/GYN .
Slipping on her backpack, she mounted her Vespa and prepared to head home when a black Toyota 4runner pulled in front of her.
“Hey, did everything turn out cool?” Hunter asked, taking off his shades.
“ Turn out cool ?” Stacey smirked. “Are doctors supposed to talk like that?”
“Like what?” Hunter asked. Putting the car in
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