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Forbidden Prescription 6 (Forbidden Medicine 6)

Page 22

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“Are you planning on living there now?” I asked.

She and my dad exchanged smiles. “Well, we haven’t decided,” she said. “We thought it would be nice to keep a place in the suburbs for when we want to get away. We’re going to refurbish my house soon, so I’ll be spending more time in the city. That’s okay, though, because my daughter lives nearby.”

“Cool,” I said dryly. “Are you planning on continuing to work?”

“A little,” she said bashfully. “I admit, with your dad’s help, I don’t need to work as much as I used to. I think I’ll cut back on hours until I go into retirement for good.”

“Good for you,” I said, faking some cheer. “That’s what the old man’s good for.”

My dad gave me a warning look. I didn’t really give a shit. I had gone through this enough times. If anything, it was just funny to me. The poor woman was so sweet and earnest about her new marriage, and she probably had no idea it wouldn’t last. I started to make predictions about how long they would stick together.

“How long have you been together?” I asked.

“A few months,” Miranda said. “I’ve never been in a relationship that’s moved so quickly. Normally, I tend to take things very slow. But, as Winston told me, we don’t know how many days we have left on this Earth. We might as well make the most of it.”

“You said that?” I asked my dad. “You’re over the hill, but you’re not that old.”

“I’m not planning on dying anytime soon,” he said gruffly. “It’s just important to do what makes you happy. Someday, you will understand that.”

“Are you seeing anyone, Damon?” Miranda asked innocently.

I chuckled. “Nope.”

“My son has no interest in settling down,” my dad said. “I keep trying to convince him to start taking dating seriously. Before you know it, you’ll be thirty. Then forty and fifty and sixty and you’ll wonder why you didn’t get married and have kids while you had the chance.”

“I guess I’ve had bad examples,” I said dryly. “Have you met my brother yet?” I asked Miranda. “Hopefully, you’ll get to meet his kids soon. They’re great, but they can only come by a few times a year.”

My dad sighed. I could tell he regretted ever bringing his wife to meet me. I got along well enough with my dad, but I wasn’t shy about pointing out when he was making a terrible mistake.

Sometimes, I felt like I was the most responsible one in the family. As my dad aged, the more he began to act like a big child. He was never strict with us kids, and it showed. He ran around, doing whatever he liked, and no one gave a crap because he was charming and well-liked. He’d get drunk at the bar and drive home with nothing more than a slap on the wrist from the police because he donated to their fundraisers every year. Or, he could cheat on his wife while she had young children at home and no one looked down upon him. He’d even fool around with other soccer moms and face zero consequences, while his lovers went through horrible divorces.

Now, because he was retired and had more money than he knew what to do with, he flung it around like a kid in a candy store. While I still assumed my brother and I would receive hefty inheritances one day with the remains of his fortune that he hadn’t managed to blow, he didn’t worry about saving for us. We could take care of ourselves. So, my dad married women and took them to extravagant places and fixed up their houses for them and paid off their debts. Then, he would stupidly lose them, returning to step one. The cycle would continue. It was foolish and the whole thing was getting old.

My brother wasn’t much better. He was a little more conservative with his approach, but just as foolish. He’d spend his money on girlfriends while his wife was at home. They nearly milked him dry a few times. Unlike my dad, he hadn’t had the time to acquire the same amount of wealth. For a few years there, he was on a serious budget while he paid for private preschools for the kids and a mortgage for his wife.

While I was known to spend lavishly on occasion, I was still in control of my finances. I could drop a few thousand on a date, but that was a small amount compared to alimony checks, especially if your girl had gotten too used to her lifestyle with you. Instead of dumping my money into women, I used it to enjoy all life had to offer. Then, I saved and invested the bulk of it so I would always have options.

I thought that made me the most responsible out of the men in my family. My parents always thought of me as the wild one, but I had never gone to jail, never gotten a girl knocked up, and never been fired. Sure, I had been an asshole and toed the line between respectful society man and deviant at times, but I managed to stay in control. My father could chastise me all he wanted for never settling down with a woman, but I had done far better than he had in some respects.

“We wanted to have a more formal dinner to introduce our marriage, but it’s so hard when everyone has a different schedule,” Dad said. “Eventually, we will have a small reception of some sort. But, we’d like to keep things small and only for close family and friends. We don’t really need a big celebration.”

“No, I would imagine not,” I said as I chewed on an ice cube. “So, who do we have left to meet?”

“I have a son and a daughter. My son is in school, but my daughter is in her residency, so we might wait until she is more settled for our gathering.”

“Cool,” I said, stifling a yawn.

“Is there something you’d rather be doing?” Dad asked. “Are we keeping you from a surgery?”

“No, not at all,” I said, trying to act a little cheerier for Miranda’s benefit. My dad deserved my annoyance, not her. She seemed so in love, I actually felt bad for her. Everything about her seemed so genuine. I wonder if that’s what made it so hard for her to see that in my dad.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You dad’s told me about how well you’ve been doing. It’s very impressive.”

“Thanks,” I said softly. “No, it’s not a big deal. I just have one of our interns coming around to check out the surgical theater.”

“Intern?” my dad asked. “I didn’t know you were looking at adding an intern, since when?”

“Since I started mentoring them this session,” I said. “She’s a bright, young doctor and I think she’ll make a fantastic surgeon.”

“She?” My dad chuckled. “Have you been approached by HR yet?”

“Yes, and I don’t think I need any warning from you, of all people,” I smirked.

I heard voices outside of my door, then it slowly creaked open. Olivia poked her head in. She looked very lovely in her skirt and suit jacket. It was perhaps a bit much for a visit, but knowing her, she was already playing the game.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a meeting,” she said.

“No, come in,” I replied. “Olivia, this is—”

“Mom?” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Miranda’s eyes opened wide, her mouth gaping open to match. She looked back and forth between everyone in the room; it was almost cartoonish. “What?” she tried to form into an articulate sentence, but couldn’t string any other words together.

Olivia turned to me. “What’s my mom doing here?”

I pursed my lips. “She’s here with my father, delivering some important news. Do you want to tell her, or should I?”

Miranda flushed. “I wanted to tell you over dinner, sweetie, but Winston and I got married!”

Olivia gasped and went to her mom to hug her. But, as she hugged her mom, she looked back at me with a look of pure confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Olivia asked her mom.

“It happened so quickly,” she said sheepishly. “By the way, this is Winston.”

Olivia raised her eyebrows and shook his hand before quickly stealing a glance my way. I didn’t know what she was thinking about, but I suspected she was trying to see the resemblance between my father and me.

“Are you the intern that Damon was talking about?” her mom asked. “That’s going to

be such a good opportunity for you. I can’t believe you two already know each other. I hope working with your stepbrother doesn’t make things weird.” She giggled.

Olivia went a little pale. She sat down in another chair in the corner of the room. I made her a cold drink and wordlessly handed it over.

“How long have the two of you known each other?” my dad asked Olivia.

“Longer than you’ve known each other,” I replied, gesturing between the newlyweds.

“Since the beginning of the year, I suppose,” Olivia said, looking worried. “Damon is mentoring our group of interns this session.”

“And now you’re going to be his intern in the surgical wing,” her mom said, looking pleased as punch. “I know you said you were worried about getting into the field. Hopefully you’ll find it’s everything you want. Is it a paid internship?”

Olivia nodded slowly.

“How much are you paying her?” my dad asked all authoritatively.

“That hasn’t been discussed yet,” I said crossly. “But I’m not the one paying her, the hospital is.”

“Yeah, but you can probably find some money to make sure your sister is taken care of.”

I shuddered. “Please don’t call her that.”

“Your sister? She is. Well, step-sister. I can see how that might be weird, but no one here is going to care. It’s not like anyone has a problem with nepotism around here, right? In a way, it’s like adding another child to the family business.”

My dad and new step-mom laughed at this, but their offspring remained silent. If they only knew what their children had been up to, they’d be horrified. Miranda was kind to me now, but I didn’t think she would be if she knew I had her daughter bent over my kitchen counter just a few days ago.



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