Billionaire Beast

“I don’t think you and I should discuss this any further until your hearing,” Dr. Preston says. “I need you to give me your ID badge.”

***

Grace isn’t answering her door. I’ve tried calling her, but her phone is still going straight to voicemail.

Next, I try to call Yuri and, surprise, surprise, she picks up almost immediately.

“I know you’re mad at me,” she says before anything else, “but I just wanted to do the right thing for you.”

“I’m suspended pending a hearing,” I tell her. “I could lose my medical license as a result of that hearing, so I’m really having a hard time buying that you just did this to protect my career.”

“It’s not just that. You’ve got a history of being with women who treat you like crap, who try to take over your whole life and make you utterly miserable.”

“And what business is that of yours?”

“It’s my business,” she says. “You’re my boss and you’re my friend and…well, I don’t want to see you be miserable for the rest of your life just because some tumor chick batted her eyes at you.”

“Why would you do this? You say that we’re friends and you say that you’re trying to protect my career and that you’re trying to protect me on a personal level, but the only thing you’ve accomplished by going to Dr. Preston is cause the very things you say you’re trying to prevent.”

“I know,” she says. “I just got sick of seeing what was happening to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

The door to Grace’s apartment opens a few inches, and I cover the phone.

“Could you keep it down?” Grace asks quietly. “I do have neighbors, you know.”

“Yuri, hold on,” I speak into the phone. “Grace, would you let me in so we can talk?”

“It sounds like you’re pretty busy right now,” she says. “By the way, you’re in a fucking mess.”

“I know I’m in a fucking mess,” I tell her. “Can we talk?”

“Whatever,” she says, but at least she doesn’t close the door.

“Yuri,” I say into the phone, still standing just outside Grace’s apartment, “I’m going to have to call you back.”

“This is what always fucking happens,” Yuri says. “You think you like someone, but then they just ignore you so they can go after the last person on the goddamned planet they should be going after.”

“What?”

“Do you really think that I’m just going to stand by and watch you continue to do what you’re doing? I don’t care if you’ve already been suspended,” she says. “You’re just doing the same shit that made you miserable before and it’s just going to keep making you miserable because you go for the wrong kinds of women.”

“The kind of women I ‘go after,’” I tell her, “is not in any way your concern.”

“Do you have any idea how long I waited for you and that stupid fucking bitch you were dating to break up? I thought this was supposed to be my big chance, but you never even looked at me that way, did you?”

“You’re my assistant, Yuri,” I tell her. “It wouldn’t be appropriate-”

“Oh, you can’t seriously be using that fucking line,” she says. “You’re the one who’s sleeping with a patient. You’re the one who broke who knows how many ethical guidelines so you could keep sticking it in your chemo bimbo.”

That may very easily be the most insensitive term for anyone I’ve ever heard.

“You’re really going to tell me that you and me being together would be inappropriate? You really need to check your fucking life, boss.”

“Yuri,” I tell her, “I’m going to have to let you go.”

“Fine,” she says. “But call me when you’re done; we’re talking about this later.”