Curing Doctor Vincent (The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 1) (18 page)

Chapter
Thirteen

Departure

The sunlight felt wonderful on my face. The huge window in
Xavier’s room revealed a beautiful blue sky sprinkled with fluffy white clouds.
I sat up, trying to hide my yawn from my bed partner. But the gorgeous day took
a backseat to my pondering. What would today hold, after last night? Where did
this leave us now? I turned to check on his sleeping form, only to find the bed
empty. The bathroom perhaps?

I slid out of bed and walked to the other side of the
room. The restroom door was open and the space empty. I mangled the bed clothing
to remove a sheet and wrapped it around myself. I stopped by the guest room,
exchanged the sheet for a robe, and then went down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Xavier,” I shouted from room to room. No answer.

I turned and ran face first into the chest of a man in a
black suit.

He grabbed my arms and pushed me back. “Mademoiselle,
excuse me please. I am here to take you to the…airport. Are your bags ready?”

I was at first merely thankful that this driver spoke
English, but then came the kick in the chest. Nausea set in.

“Where is Xavier?”

He shrugged.

“When did you talk with the Doctor?”

“This morning.”

So fucking stupid. How could I be so naïve? He’d never
promised me more than this.
But he told
me he loved me.

I stared at the floor. Swallowed hard and forced back the
tears.

“I’ll be right back. Let me get my things.”

****

With Paris in the rearview mirror, I did my best to move
on. But the doctor was always on my mind. It was impossible to avoid him at
work, although I definitely tried. I stopped using the main entrance to avoid
seeing the plaque with his name, and dodged meetings that might cause me to
work with his products. Thankfully, I finally had the first restful night since
my return, nearly eight-weeks earlier. There was no regret. But the heartache
was more than I’d thought possible—for my lost love and for his broken
life.

Today, just like every other day, I headed to work, only
to find myself standing in front of the receptionist’s desk on the tenth floor.
The question was always on my tongue, but I was unable to spit it out. She had
ways to contact him, not to mention Berta was morally flexible. All I had to do
was ask her for his contact info and promise a lunch of fine dining and she
would give me the means to reach the doctor. But to what end? He obviously didn’t
want me, or I would have never left, and he certainly would have found me by
now. I could only be so angry at him. Most of my loathing I reserved for myself.
So fucking stupid.

“Elaine, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Berta
smiled from behind her desk.

She was bound to notice my strange behavior sooner or
later, but today there was a reason for my presence. I laughed. “I know
strange, isn’t it? I hadn’t seen you in how long, and now I keep ending up
here.”

“I mean, Ashley in Marketing does know how to order
supplies.” Supply ordering had been my cover. I had enough pens to write my
name around the world.

Another nervous chuckle. “No mooching of staples today. I
have a meeting in the conference room around the corner. I’m just a little
early.” I left out the part about coming early in hope that I could get the doctor’s
contact info, but that was need to know, and she didn’t need to know.

“Oh, you’re in that meeting. Good news, they ordered out
for lunch. Zaggerilli’s instead of cafeteria gruel, lucky you. Make sure you
shoot me a message when you’re all done, so I can swipe the leftovers. Even
Zaggerilli’s a couple of hours cold is better than fresh anything from
downstairs.”

“You got it.”

The bell dinged and Sarah from print marketing stepped off
the elevator. I gave a slight wave and turned. “Take care, Berta.”

I followed Sarah into the room, chose a high-backed
leather seat, and pulled my laptop from my bag.

With the projector connected, the other attendees
assembled, and small talk with Sarah complete, I began the obligatory meeting
procedures—introductions, reading of the agenda, and goals for the
meeting.

My audience only consisted of eight people, and most of
them I worked with regularly. The mix of men and woman made for an easy job.

“And if you look here. The adherence of patients taking
the newest version of Rx 972 was clearly influenced by the socioeconomic status
of the patient.” I pointed with the laser pointer to the slide on the white
screen.

The door to the room opened and my heart stopped. The man
dressed in an expensive black business suit moved into the room and stood
behind an empty chair.

I stopped. I couldn’t speak. His smile was a special kind
of torture.

“Oh, pardon me… Ms…?” He waited for me to finish for him.

What kind of game was he playing? These people most likely
knew about the fundraiser in Paris. You didn’t associate with Dr. Vincent and have
it go unnoticed. I wasn’t amused. Through gritted teeth I muttered. “Watkins.”

“Please excuse my intrusion, Ms. Watkins, but I’m working
on a new formulation of this, and I’m curious how the drug administration has
impacted adherence.”

“It didn’t,” I snapped.

Sarah, otherwise known as ass-kisser number one, chimed
in, “Oh, Doctor. May I call you Doctor? I took notes. And I believe Elaine said
that when the drug was administered through self-administered injection, there
was a sharp decline in adherence.”

He pulled out the chair, sat and turned to Sarah, “Thank
you. And you are?” He smiled at her, touched her arm. He fucking touched her
arm.

“Hi. I’m Sarah. I’ve always wanted to meet you, Doctor. You
are one of the most brilliant minds of our time.”

His gaze drifted from hers to meet my death stare as he
said, “And to think, my mind is the weakest of my talents.” He
smirked
.

I was going to kill him. Getting out of that room became
my primary goal. Finish the presentation and bolt.

“As I was saying…”

“Dr. Vincent, I’m glad to finally meet you. I’m Mitch. I
worked on the roll out for your last drug when it went to market. It’s great to
meet you.”

The posturing made me want to puke.

“Very nice to meet you, Mitch.” The doctor reached across
the table and shook his hand. “But I’m sure Ms. Watkins has another meeting
after this, so let’s let her finish. We can catch up later.”

“As I was saying, the socioeconomic status of the patient
impacts the level of adherence.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Watkins. Did you receive the Parisian
study that I sent your department head?”

Parisian study? Was he fucking kidding? I tried not to let
my irritation show. It was one thing if he wanted to pretend our week together never
happened, but I wished he had the decency to disappear. Why was he doing this?

He raised an eyebrow, and from the expression on my
co-workers faces, I’d paused for far too long.
Leading
me before to believe he cared was
almost excusable, but this… After all, an agreement was an agreement. I’d spent
the last eight weeks chalking it up to clever role-playing. This was outright
cruel.

“No, I was told the Parisian study was top secret, and
findings were never to be released.”

“You are correct, Ms. Watkins. But there are certain
elements I was able to have declassified to support your research. Did you
receive it? I asked Berta to deliver it to your office this morning.”

I gripped the laser pointer. “I’m quite certain I didn’t
receive anything.”

He stood. “You know what? We could probably all use a
break. Why don’t we adjourn until the top of the hour and you can go check?”

I opened my mouth to object, but before the words could
leave, he said, “Thanks everyone,” and waved his hand toward the door urging
them out.

With everyone gone we both stood there. Him staring at his
clasped hands and me waiting for him to come clean.

He looked up. “Ms. Watkins, we don’t have all day. They
will be back soon.”

Disbelief. I couldn’t believe he continued the act. I
slammed the laser pointer onto the conference room table and stormed out.

I didn’t bother with the elevator; five flights of stairs
would help burn off some of the frustration. How could he justify taunting me,
especially after rejecting me?

I threw open the stairway door and marched down the
hallway. There was no fucking report. I felt bad for what had happened to him,
but this wasn’t funny.

Most of the people on the floor had left for lunch. I
walked into my dark office, not bothering even to turn light on, because the
good doctor was full of shit.

I picked up several interoffice envelopes from my inbox. None
of them seemed heavy enough to hold a report, but I began the laborious task of
unwinding the red string that secured each envelope’s contents. First one: signed
expense reports. This was a complete waste of time.

The slam of the door closing and click of the lock caused
me to drop the packet.

Xavier Vincent stood, adjusting his cufflinks.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to continue to look for that report.”

I brushed my hair out of my face. “Fine. You still want to
play games.”

I bent down to pick up the envelopes.

When I stood up his body pinned me to the front of the
desk. My thighs rested against the mahogany woodwork that decorated the edge of
the work surface.

He wound his arms around me, reaching under my breast and
up to grasp my chin. Oh God, the feel of him, his scorching body against my
back, cock hard and breath hot on my neck. “You left.”

Air was in short supply. The effect he had on me couldn’t
be denied. Relief that we were done pretending flooded through at the same time
as dread.

His finger stroked my cheek.

“Yes. I can take a hint. The driver said you called him
that morning. Besides, you made it clear.”

He gripped me a little tighter. “Did I? What exactly was
clear to you, Elaine?” His voice was rough as he growled the words.

“One week. That’s all. You stay in your world, and I go
back to mine. Wasn’t that the agreement?”

His hand grasped my breast and squeezed. “Yes, but I was
pretty certain we amended that agreement when I told you I loved you.”

I was suddenly glad that I wasn’t facing him. Tears
pricked at the corners of my eyes. That was the scene I relived every night,
followed by the driver asking me if my bags were ready. I swallowed hard,
trying not to cry.

“I did call the driver. After I called and arranged to
have the seat beside you on the flight back. I planned to come with you.”

Oh God. The seat beside me in first class had been empty.

“I left for my morning jog and when I returned you were
gone.” He squeezed my chin. “My life had fallen apart, and the one thing I
needed most left me.”

Now I was angry. Why did he take so long to tell me? I had
been miserable. He could have found me at any time.

“I didn’t leave you. If I had known, I would have stayed.”

“What did you think I was doing? Pretending?”

Tears escaped, rolled down my cheeks, and pooled between
my face and his fingers. There was no hiding it now. “Role playing. I thought
it was part of the game. What took you so long to tell me?”

“Was your reaction to me a game? A role you were playing?”

“Of course not.”

He sighed. “I was on my way to the airport. I had every
intention of tracking you down, when Sebastian called. Miriam killed herself.”

“Oh no.”

“Her note to you was her final atonement. But that meant
two things. I had a friend to console, and any hope of getting answers to my
fucked up past were gone.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Sebastian was prepared to lose her to the disease, but he
couldn’t handle her decision when she still had life in her.”

I gripped him and stroked his arm through the fabric of
his jacket.

“The more time that passed, the more I convinced myself
that perhaps it was for the best. As I helped Sebastian with his grief, my own
changed.” He placed a soft kiss to my neck. “I poured through the documents in
Lydia’s office and grew angrier and angrier. Did you know that my name isn’t
Xavier Vincent? I was patient X in something called the Veritas Project. When I
was placed with the original people I thought were my parents, it was the name
I was given.”

“Oh my God.”

“I’m the result of an experiment. A secret society of
psychiatric professionals, who think it’s their right to mind fuck people at
their whim, for whatever perversion they have. They are rich and virtually
unstoppable.”