Running To You

Running To You

DeLaine Roberts

Running To You

DeLaine Roberts

Copyright 2013 DeLaine Rober
ts

Edited by Heather McAuliffe

Published by Bookrhythm, LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the work of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Three missed calls from Drew already, before 6:00am! Everything is always on his schedule, it’s all about him, I swear! I would love to put him in the timeout chair for over-zealous boss behavior! He expects me to answer the phone anytime he calls and I am beginning to believe that he uses his cell phone 24/7!

Taking a deep breath, I try to remind myself that he wants to help and I do appreciate the risk he took in hiring me. I did not hold previous experience in medical sales and it was a big gamble to bring me on board with the company. Typically, start-up companies only hire employees with previous experience in their product area. Or, they look for employees that possess a large customer base. This was not the case for me. I brought neither of those to the table. I had however, just completed my MBA with a focus in Marketing from Northwestern, which was a big plus.

Remembering back to our initial conversations about the position, before and during the interview process, he often spoke of how there would be much to learn. He could see that I had tenacity, and felt that my strengths would empower my success
. Of course, he would always be there to guide and push me.

Now that I have been on the job for a month, I have discovered that his “pushing me” was deeply understated. He could be a slave driver at times. I am quickly learning the equipment and appreciate new technology for the diagnosis and treatment of breast cancer.

Good grief, now call #4 coming in before I can finish listening to his voice mails.

“Hey Drew, you’re at it early this morning,” trying to be perky. But in the back of mind, I am thinking, oh how I would love to remind him that he is time-zone challenged.

“Alexandra, I’m really sorry about the early calls. I'm on my way to catch a flight for a board meeting, but I wanted to remind you that the new sales compensation package could definitely impact you financially. I know that you are brand new and still getting your feet wet, but as we start the third quarter you will achieve the extra bonus if you sign up just one or more surgeons. I was thinking about a local target for you and remembered your doc in Dallas, Dr. Brooks. Are you making any headway with him?”

Drew has been bustin’ my chops about this particular surgeon, Dr. Grayson Brooks. I don’t know why he focuses just on Dr. Brooks? Maybe it is because he’s such a mysterious man to us all! No one from my company has been able to get in to see or speak with him about our new product line. Dr. Brooks has refused all correspondence or attempts to visit with him. Before I took this position, even our CEO tried unsuccessfully to meet with him.

“Interestingly enough, I will be in Dr. Brooks' office today, so wish me luck!” Of course, I knew that it was going to take more than luck to get past Millie Watson, the devoted office administrator for Dr. Brooks, and one serious gatekeeper! She had sent me packing several times, even with me offering to bring food, which is very unusual. Tempting with delicacies from
Celebrity Bakery
didn’t work. On numerous occasions, I had to leave my business card and literature all while pleading for her to give the information to the doc. I was not convinced that she ever did.

I thought the humming I heard in the background might be Drew’s mental motor running and he was about to give me his latest Sales Force
101
pitch, but instead he threw me a curve ball. “Alex, you don’t need luck today. Just be yourself and no one can say no to you today. It’s your day.”

As I finished getting dressed for the day, I decided to break out the cream-colored suit that I bought for the summer at the thrift store while shopping with Cooper. He has shown me the ropes of thrift store shopping and it’s like a treasure hunt, which was good because I needed to add several outfits more appropriate for the Texas heat. The climate is much different than what I had known growing up in Chicago. Therefore, I had to add several outfits more appropriate for the Texas heat. I ran into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee on the way out.

“Damn girl, you are rocking that new suit.” I heard my life-long friend and roommate, Cooper Roberts, exclaiming with pride. Cooper had encouraged me to break out of my comfort zone of always wearing brown, so of course, he is staking claim to his ideas! He threatened to cut up my clothes while I slept if I didn’t make some changes.

“That color allows your auburn hair and green eyes to
pop out like the radiant sun setting over Emerald Lake
!” While giving me a high-five, “and I like that you left your hair down instead of your usual ponytail.”

“What are you today, the fashion police?” I try to give it back to him, as I can’t let him know he is right about my fashion most of the time.

“I just call it like I see it and sometimes, no, make that most of the time; your style choice is bland girl.” He sounded almost rude. Neither of us functioned well early in the morning, so I am used to his sarcasm this time of day. “I like that you took my advice and bought those sexy Manolo pumps, they were such a find at a thrift store. Whomever you are seeing today is one lucky fella and will not be able to say no to you.”

How did Cooper know I was seeing a “male” doc today? After all, there are as many female docs as there are male, especially in the Dallas market.

As I walk out the door yelling good day to Cooper, I can’t help but recall his words “
will not be able to say no to you
.” Those words echoed what Drew had said to me already this morning.

Was today going to be my lucky day with Dr. Grayson Brooks
?

Yuck, the Dallas morning traffic commute is horrible! These folks are so impatient, driving fast and furious. It's like participating in a daily race. I am amazed at how a two inch gap between cars is an offering to another car to say
hello, I'm squeezing in
! Then, suddenly, all flow comes to an abrupt halt with those great sound effects...BRAKES!

If I live here the rest of my life, I don’t think I will ever get used to the traffic. Chicago has its own traffic problems, just not this bad. Most drivers allow for more room in-between the cars and don’t weave in and out of traffic. For the most part, Cooper and I would ride bikes or take public transportation to get around in Chicago, but that was the old days and seems like a lifetime ago, not just a few short months.

Moving from Chicago to Dallas and leaving my little cocoon of comfort was a difficult choice. However if I wanted the opportunity with Parson Medical Corporation (PMC), I would have to take the only open territory in Dallas. Cooper took almost two weeks to decide whether he would move with me or not. Since he is in real estate, he called upon friends and got the scoop on the latest up and coming areas where we should look for an apartment. The majority vote was for the Uptown district of north Dallas proper. Very urban in development style, Uptown provides entertainment and retail with a very metro, young, hip vibe.

After making just one trip down, we were immediately impressed with the Manchester’s, townhome rental properties. With the look of a brownstone, they were conveniently located in the heart of Uptown. Thank goodness, we were splitting the rent, as neither of us felt settled financially enough to go it alone. I carried a balance of student loans left to pay back. Cooper was pursuing both his real-estate license in Texas, as well as continuing to model with every opportunity that came his way.

A quick stop burner in traffic brings me out of my thoughts and back into reality. While my car, a 2000 Jeep Cherokee, is old and worn out, I am not ready to buy a new one, so the last thing I need is an accident. Approaching the Med Center and Dr. Brooks’ office, I begin to think about my game plan to get past his traffic cop, Millie Watson. She obviously does not like reps. I have sat previously in the lobby and watched reps one by one parade in and, quickly, back out of the office. I have noticed there is something about female reps that all look the same: Blonde hair pulled back in ponytails, faces full of Botox and fake puffy lips, fake tits bustin’ out of their low-cut tops and dark, short skirts. I call them
the plastics
. I usually stand out like a sore thumb: Red hair, no boobs, pale skin, and long legs wearing my favorite plain brown pants. I don’t fit that stereotype at all.

Entering Dr. Brooks’ office, I notice the office is free of patients and reps. Millie is on the phone and smiling at me. That’s very unusual; I didn’t think she knew how to smile. I politely took a seat as not to interrupt her. After a few moments, she slid back the glass, motioning me to come up to the reception counter. Trying not to overdo my friendliness, I spoke softly and like we were old friends, “Good morning Ms. Watson, are you having a great Friday so far?” She met me with another smile! Jeez, I couldn’t believe it!

“Yes, my Friday is wonderful. Has anyone ever told you that you have the hair of an angel?” she exclaimed, before I could say another word. Shock and awe! Was heaven and earth shifting and I didn’t know it?

“Um, no
... Thank you,” was all I could utter, suffering from shock. After a moment, I gathered courage and went for it. “Is it possible for me to speak with Dr. Brooks today?” I asked with a soft voice.

She cut me off, waving her hand toward their private door.

“Come this way and I will get you right in. I believe he has a few minutes after his next consult. You may wait for him in our break room.” she spoke quietly, but her eyes twinkled with anticipation, as if she knew something I didn’t.

Waiting quietly, listening for any peep of Dr. Brooks, I noticed his office lacked any pictures or documents identifying him or anything about him. Why the mystery, I pondered. Researching him, I came up empty. My attempt to research him was fruitless. The hospital website had no photo. It just listed his credentials and training, noting that he had received training through the Army and made mention that he was just starting his private practice. I researched social media and even
Googled
him, not one photo, social or otherwise.

I was deep in my thoughts about this mysterious stranger, when all of a sudden I heard a commotion just outside the break room. “Ms. Watson, I don’t have time to visit with reps today, I am already due in surgery” and with a jolt, speaking in a loud voice as he is rounding the corner “Mr. Morrison, I am really sorry, but I am short” pausing as our eyes meet “on time and cannot...” He didn’t finish his sentence. He looked like he was in a trance.

Speaking quietly as I was caught off guard, “It’s
Miss
Morrison.
” Pausing, as our eyes danced together, “Alexandra Morrison, pleased to meet you sir” reaching to shake his hand. Wow, at that moment, I felt a current run through me that was unexplainable, and he looked familiar, had we met before? I would remember meeting him, eye candy like Grayson Brooks was hard to forget. He was older than me, and much taller. I am 5’10" without the heels and he still stood above me. His features are very masculine, Italian maybe, good looks, and broad shoulders. I could tell he worked out a lot with his large biceps and formed chest evident through his scrubs. I caught myself catching my breath, and thinking about putting my hands in his dark wavy hair. Somewhere in the middle of all the chaos, it seemed like we were frozen in time, having a conversation with just our eyes and still shaking hands, only now he was merely holding my hand with both of his. Wow, holding hands with the tall, extremely handsome Dr. Grayson Brooks. He had the most piercing, sapphire blue eyes, full red lips, chiseled chin with a deep dimple, and a perfect set of teeth. His deep, olive complexion allowed his bright smile to shine.

“
Hum, I am really sorry, Dr. Brooks. I am happy to come back when you have more time” showing respect of his time, although instilling a bit of subconscious pleading not to send me packing. Dr. Brooks cleared his throat as he turned to Ms. Watson, “Millie, will you check with surgery and see if they are running on time or if I might have a few moments to speak with Ms. Morrison, please?”

Ms. Watson was already on the ball, “I just spoke with the OR desk and they are running 30-40 minutes behind.” Aha, she had already called surgery, which is why she gave me the look earlier. She knew he had time to talk to me and was trying to help me out. She excused herself, leaving me alone with this beautiful, mysterious man.

I seemed to be in a trance, drinking in this delicious, manly creature. His unruly, curly hair was very dark and shiny. Even with heels, I still had to look up to see his sapphire blue eyes staring down at me. I hated to stare at him, but I could not think about business. My thoughts were wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips and feel those big, muscular biceps wrapped around me. YUM! He looked like he could be a model.

Letting go of my hand, the movement brought me out of my decadent trance. “Ms. Morrison, what exactly is it that I can do for you?” Although his tone was sharp, I noticed a small gleam in his eyes.

“I am your new rep with PMC. I came by to introduce myself and visit with you regarding our new strategic initiative allowing for significant time savings during breast surgery.” I was going to go through my usual introduction pitch, but Dr. Brooks stopped me dead in my tracks.

“I have looked over the literature that you have left, multiple times I might add, and I am not currently interested in pursuing any new products at this time, nor do I wish to have anything to do with PMC.” His tone was so sharp, almost a yell, that it pierced the wind from my lungs. His eyes led me to believe there was something more to be said, but I didn’t give him a chance.