Dr. Benson strokes his jaw as he looks at me. He doesn’t look phased, he doesn’t look concerned at all by my threat. Smiling, he lets his eyes drift to my desk. Picking up a business card out of the stack, he flicks the corner.
We stare at each other in silence for what seems like forever. He doesn’t speak. I don’t speak, but inside I’m screaming for someone else to walk in and interrupt this insane stand-off. To distract his attention from me. To end this little game he’s trying to play.
Shifting his gaze back to mine, he flicks the card across the top of my desk, and it drops to the floor.
“Are you trying to get fired?”
“Wait. . .” Pausing, I hold my hand up, not sure if I heard him right. “What are you saying here?”
“Do you really need me to say it again?” Huffing under his breath, he stands. “Do you want to get fired?” The words come out slow, they land like a like a smack in the face. “Better? Did you hear me that time?”
Fuck you.
“You can’t fire me,” I say quickly. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve only ever done my job, and well!”
He laughs, an evil and degrading laugh like I shouldn’t be so stupid. “Do you know why I hired you to begin with? I hired you because you were hot. Nice ass is an asset in this business where the majority of our clients are fit and young athletes. Plus, I heard you were game. Easy. Word gets around, Gillian.”
“This is sexual harassment. You realize what you’re doing, don’t you? You can’t just fire me because I won’t sleep with you.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I stand tall and confident. “You’ll never win. Now leave my office. Now!” I’m shaking. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. And yet, it gets worse.
“You might be right, but think about this: who is Mr. Union and HR going to believe? A man like me, who’s worked on this team for over twenty years, who doesn’t have a single black mark on his record, and an entire team who will back me up. . .” His lips curl, his eyes darken, and his voice turns thick. “Or you? A girl who’s only been here a year, and has no other credentials to play than the ones I gave you? I also know a few of the guys who are more than willing to side with me, and make it sound like you’re running an illegal massage parlor in here. Your expertise, they’ll say, are happy endings.”
“You’re a liar. You’re pulling this all out of thin air and you know it. Why would you do this to me?”
What the hell is going on? What did I do to deserve this?
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Henry says, in a sickeningly sweet voice and a wink. I’m ready to gag.
No fucking way.
“You’re an asshole.” Flaring my nostrils, I tip my chin higher. “I’ll save you the trouble of reporting me. How does that sound? I fucking quit.”
Grabbing my bag, I walk out of my office and down the long hallway, never even giving him a second look.
And just like that my career is over. Everything I worked for, all the late nights of studying and learning, all the long hours building relationships with my patients, all for nothing.
Regret and dignity are currently at war in my head. I want both, but not at the cost of either. I won’t give up my dignity for a lie. But I don’t want to regret losing my dream.
“Don’t worry about it, Gil. I promise you, it’s not the end of your career.” My brother pops open a beer bottle and slides it across the kitchen table to me. “Look at dad, he spent thirty years as a janitor, only to change his profession at sixty and become a truck driver.”
“I don’t want to change my profession, Brad. That’s the whole point. I love what I do. I loved that job. I could imagine myself working there for the rest of my life. I thought I was an important part of the team.”
“I can go back and kick his ass for you if you want me to. I don’t mind that option at all. It’s actually pretty tempting.” Taking a swig from his beer, he waggles his brows.
“Thanks, but no. The last thing I need is to help you manage an assault charge. I’m not bailing you out from jail. I need to be careful with my savings now that I don’t have an income. I have no idea where I’m going from here.”
Shrugging his shoulder, he leans over and rests his elbows on the table. “Meh, it’d be worth it.”
“Right, and end up with a record? I don’t think Bethany would go for that. I like your loyalty, but I also like having a sister-in-law who doesn’t hate me, so I’ll pass. Thanks anyway.”
“Hey, my wife would probably be more upset if I didn’t take her with me. She loves a good brawl.”
We both laugh, and I let my eyes drop to the drink in my hands. Picking at the label, I frown. “This just isn’t what I expected. I thought I had found my place, and I feel so stupid now. I don’t know how I could have been so wrong.”
“No, don’t look at it that way. Think of it like this, instead. You left because you didn’t belong there; you just hadn't realized it yet. Your place is waiting for you. It’s out there for you and it an even better fit for you. You just have to find it.”
Flicking my eyes up to him, he gives me a big, reassuring, brotherly smile, and suddenly, I don’t feel so heavy. Because he’s right. Although I loved working with the Vulcan’s, there was always an underlying anxiety dealing with Dr. Benson. He’d never crossed the line before today. If he’d ever been that overt, I would have walked out the door sooner. But still, there was always this tension. And sitting here, knowing I don’t have to go into the office tomorrow, waiting to see if Dr. Benson was feeling playful (and that’s a generous way to describe his behavior), I feel lighter.
I can go somewhere else. Be someone else. I didn’t know it, but I’d been the hot rehab chick there, the rub and tug specialist rather than the kick ass and competent clinician I know I am. I want to be known as the person who heals, who helps, someone who can be trusted. And I want to work someplace where everyone values that.
“You know what, you’re right,” I say to Brad, holding up my beer to salute him. “To a new place and a new start!”
“To a new start,” he repeats. “See, sometimes you should listen to your older brother. Not always, and definitely not when he tells you to jump from the garage onto the trampoline, don’t listen to that. But right now, my advice is good. I know you. You’re going to land on your feet this time, kiddo, not on the driveway with a fractured wrist.”
Chuckling, I nod my head. “Got it. Follow the advice that doesn’t land me in the emergency room!”
“Exactly.” Pointing his beer in my direction, we both start laughing again, and I do truly feel better.
Lying in bed after leaving my brother’s, I flip through my email and find a few messages from other teams that have reached out in the past few weeks about open positions.
I normally just respond to these emails with a simple reply, explaining that I’m not looking for new opportunities, but thanks for the interest anyway. Tonight, though, I read them all, twice and very carefully. One in particular catches my attention. A small private rehab practice, Solum Clinic. They’re currently working with the Silver Hawks, a pretty hot baseball team in the national league. I click through their website and I really like what I see. The facility looks sleek and new. The credentials of their staff are top notch. It’s clear they’re a serious facility.