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From: "Wine Maker" <wine_maker@eknifeshop.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Playing Doctor Chapter 2 (MF, Slow, Romantic Mystery)
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Date: Mon, 12 Jun 2006 01:10:01 -0400
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Author's Note:

The nomination period for the June, 2006 silver Clitorides is now open.
I, of course, urge those that like my work to nominate Finding Elvis
and will shamelessly use it as an example. <g> Please go to the
following site to nominate all your favorites:

http://www.asstr.org/files/Collections/Clitorides/www/SCA_Current.htm#nom

Remember, you can nominate as many stories as you like, but make sure
and give them the story name, author and a link to the story. For
example:

Finding Elvis
Wine Maker
http://storiesonline.net/story/47292

or nominate via email to: silver-clt@hotmail.com

with a subject of: Silver Clitorides Award Nomination for June, 2006.

Please include the following information for all your nominations:


Finding Elvis
Wine Maker
http://storiesonline.net/story/47292

Regards,

Wine

-----

Sandy Craig is a busy young woman. Her life is all about her work as a
reconstructive surgeon and medical partnership. She doesn't have time
for a personal life, much less love. Keven Braddock is a well-to-do
artist on the rise like the space shuttle. Women throw themselves at
him and life is his oyster, but something is missing. When they meet,
something in their lives change.

Now if only things would stop going wrong and getting in the way of
them finding happiness. This has a real plot and three dimensional
characters. It's more than just a wanker.

Read this story on several sites and vote on each for me. Voting for my
stories encourages me to write more. Remember to vote for each chapter
on Literotica and on the last chapter on Storiesonline.

http://storiesonline.net/auth/Wine_Maker

http://english.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=560253&page=submissions


Playing Doctor
(c) 2006 by Wine Maker

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


Chapter Two: Deeper into uncertainty

Since I was trapped, I stepped back and put a smile on my face. Danny
was going to pay, and pay big, for this later.

Keven came in smiling. At first, he looked genuinely surprised to see
me, and my half-formed suspicions about Danny setting me up
disappeared, but then a sly grin spread across Keven's face. Quickly
stepping over to me, he took my hand and raised it to his lips just as
he had done last night. Once again, the sensation of his breath warming
my knuckles stirred the same chaotic emotions inside me and re-ignited
the slow-burning heat from last night. His deep gaze over our hands
made me shiver.

I broke away from his gaze before I lost my composure and behaved like
a love-sick teenager, lost in his eyes. I didn't dare trust myself to
look at Danny.  He would ignore my smile and interpret the heat in my
eyes as lust, and I was afraid that he might be right. With what little
dignity I could still muster, I took back possession of my hand.

"Welcome to the Hammerstein Clinic." I gestured to Danny. "This is my
boss, Doctor Danny Hammerstein. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave
you men to your business."

"Oh, I'd rather you wait for just a moment," Keven said smoothly with a
glance at Danny. "If the good Doctor H. can spare a few minutes before
we meet. I'd like to reschedule our coffee date, since we were so
rudely interrupted last night."

The word "date" sent a shock through my system, though I know Keven
didn't mean it as that kind of date or did he? I shored up the smile on
my face and tried not to let him see me sweat.

"Why don't you have a seat, and I'll get you a cup of coffee." Danny
suggested. "And if you would join us, Sandy, this business includes
you, too. You can talk over last night while I go make some fresh
coffee."

I gave him a deer-in-the-headlights look, but he only smiled and closed
the door behind him on his way out. Then it occurred to me that he
could have just used the coffee maker in his office. The bastard did
this to me on purpose!  My suspicions came roaring back.

"Please, have a seat," Keven said, taking one of the leather chairs for
himself and gesturing to the other. I now knew how the fly felt when
the spider said, 'Step into my parlor.' Still, I was limited in what
options I had at the moment, given how Danny had choreographed this
meeting like he did.

Taking my seat, I took a moment to marshal my thoughts and rein in my
emotions. "I'm really sorry about last night."

Nonchalantly, he waved his hand. "I can't hold you accountable for what
someone else did. However, when the ruckus finally cleared and I
discovered you'd left, I was very disappointed." His dark eyes searched
my soul again and I could almost feel the sparks between us. It
occurred to me then that to rein in my emotions, I first had to
actually have my hands on them.  At the moment, I felt I was simply
hanging on for dear life. "I suppose I can't blame you for leaving, but
I was going to track you down today. I find it telling that I didn't
have to search long at all."

He said it in such a matter-of-fact manner that it sent a shiver up my
spine, one I couldn't suppress. It was like a big-game hunter telling
his prey that he would track her until he found her, no matter how long
it took. Part of me started whispering "stalker." I tried to keep from
wondering what the hunter would have done once he caught his prey. Then
I remembered that I was his prey.

I considered telling him I had planned on calling him, but that would
have been a lie, and he'd know it. "It was all moving a bit too fast
for me," I said after a moment.

He nodded, not speaking but not looking disturbed by my revelation,
either.

"We'd only just met," I continued, off-balance at his leaving the
ball in my court. I'd always had a problem with wanting to fill
silences. "I suddenly felt myself being overwhelmed and I guess I
wasn't expecting it."

Keven smiled. "So I wasn't the only one that felt the pull. That's good
to know. I wasn't sure if you felt it, too. I don't know if I've ever
felt such a powerful attraction before, much less feeling bowled over
by it so quickly."

I quietly cursed myself for letting that slip. What the hell was wrong
with me? I was acting as bad as a teenager trying to keep someone from
knowing I had a crush on them. When I was around him, my composure and
experience just flew right out of my mind. I was a tongue-tied girl
again. Danny was right, I realized. I had it bad.

"Look, don't get me wrong," I said, trying for some distance and
perspective, "but we don't know each other at all. This is just a
physical attraction."

He quirked an eyebrow. "So, you find me attractive?"

I closed my eyes. This conversation was going downhill fast. I just
couldn't seem to stop myself from making it worse. Then I opened my
eyes and, grudgingly, nodded.

"I don't suppose we could just start over, could we?" I asked without
any real hope.

His roguish grin raised the temperature in the room by at least ten
degrees. I felt like Little Red Riding Hood looking at the Big Bad
Wolf. The devil on my shoulder promptly made me regret the analogy by
wondering if it would be better to break with tradition and let the
wolf eat me after all.

"No, I don't think so. This is going much too well to start over." He
rubbed his artfully stubbled chin and continued smiling at me. "Still,
you're right about it being a mutual attraction. The moment I saw you
in that green dress, I couldn't pull my eyes away, and I didn't want
to. A little voice in my head told me that I needed to go introduce
myself right away."

I chuckled. "You have one of those little internal devils, too? Mine
mugged my little angel." There I went again! I was digging myself
deeper and deeper. I needed to get out of here before I just invited
him over to my place right now. That little tart of a devil promptly
told me what a good idea that was and it took all my strength to keep
from sticking my foot in my mouth once again.

"The only angel I've seen in years is sitting across from me right
now," he said with that same panty-melting grin as before.

While I was still trying to figure out what to say to that, Danny came
back in with fresh coffee for all of us.

"There you are! What took you so long," I almost snarled at him, having
to force myself not to snap.

"Sorry it took me so long," Danny said insincerely. "I stopped to talk
with Trina about some scheduling details. I hope you two were able to
reschedule yourselves as well."

"Actually, not yet," Keven said. "How about we have dinner to talk
about it in more detail, Sandy?"

"Well, I'd love to, but I have an early day tomorrow," I said as a
reasonable way out presented itself. "I'll have to look and see when I
have some free time."  Even as I said the words, I knew that I wasn't
really sure if I was grateful for my early day tomorrow or pissed off
about it.

If anything, Keven looked more intrigued than he had before. I don't
think he was used to having to chase skirts very far. I would have bet
my Porsche that most of them came running right to him. That gave me
pause. Was I turning myself into a challenge? Maybe I shouldn't have
been so fast to duck out. The internal conflict was becoming harder to
keep off my face, but I didn't know what I really wanted.

"To borrow a phrase," Danny interrupted smoothly, "it's all been taken
care off. I was reloading the schedule with Trina so I could pick up
your morning procedure."

I blinked at him, completely taken aback. "What? You're bumping me?"
Then I felt my blood start to boil. "Why the hell are you bumping me?"

Danny leaned over and stage-whispered to Keven. "This is one of the
features that comes standard with our fire-haired Sandy. We lovingly
call her 'the flame-thrower.' Just go with it."

I glared at Danny and then speared Keven with a matching high-voltage
stare. "I'm sure you both think this is very funny, but I am not
amused. If either of you think I'm just going to roll over and go along
with this, then you're very much..."

"Your boss?" Danny interposed. "Why, I do believe you're right. I am.
So, that makes me the man that schedules all the surgeons and
surgeries." His voice was light and his eyes gleamed with buried humor,
but the message was there.

With a sigh, I crossed my arms and glared at Danny. "I don't like being
your violin, but you play well, and I get the message."

I transferred the glare to Keven. "Seven PM sharp. I'll leave the finer
details to you, but I like seafood."

"And since I'm so deeply in the doghouse, I'll be on time," he said
with an unrepentant smirk. "Now Sandy, I just want you to remember that
all I did was ask."

Reluctantly, I nodded and tamed my glare back. "I'm sorry. Like Danny
said, I have a temper."

"The good thing is that it's not usually a long-term problem," Danny
said. "It's usually a flash fire. She'll be her usual sunny self
very quickly. Now, on to business."

"Do you still need me or can I go sulk in my office?" I asked Danny
sweetly.

"I still need you, so no sulking. This really does concern you. I've
decided that the partners all need to have portraits done, and that was
why I sent you to spy on Keven's art show." Danny turned his gaze on
Keven. "And I asked you to come over so we can work out the details
over lunch. Sandy gave you a glowing review, by the way."

Keven nodded, smiling. "I'm always pleased to hear that the critics I
care about give me good reviews. Since you're clearing our good Sandy's
schedule, I'll do the same if we can come to a suitable agreement.
However, I foresee that we might have some difficult negotiating
ahead."

"Really?" Danny said, showing some surprise. "Should we go over during
lunch?"

Keven shook his head. "No, I think we should negotiate the basic terms
now. If we can agree, then we can talk over the details during lunch."
He smiled at Danny and then looked at me in a way that made me almost
shrink back in the chair, it was so intense.

I felt like a mouse being drooled over by a hawk. My mouth promptly
went dry "Name it and we'll see if it's possible," Danny said
agreeably.

"I don't want money for the work," Keven said, his eyes locking with
mine. "I'd like for Sandy to model for some other paintings as
compensation."

I licked my lips and glanced at Danny, my feelings warring inside me.

"No," Danny said firmly before I could figure out how to respond.
"Sandy is my friend and a partner here. If she wants to model for you,
that's her business, but I can't and won't urge her to do so on behalf
of the partnership. She's not a bauble, to be bartered for some nicer
bauble."

"If I model for you, how much would it save the partnership," I asked,
trying to keep the internal tremble I was feeling out of my voice. It
was mildly satisfying to see the surprise on Danny's face. "And what
kind of modeling, exactly, are we talking about?"

Keven leaned back and crossed his leg casually. At least, I realized it
was meant to look casual. I could see an almost palatable aura of
tenseness around him. "I would never ask a lady to model in anything
other than what she feels comfortable with, so you don't need to worry
about being asked to take your clothes off." One corner of his mouth
quirked in a smile, and I just knew there was something he just
couldn't resist saying. "Unless, of course, you'd like to take your
clothes off for me."

The heat crawling up my neck and face told me that my Irish heritage
had betrayed me again and I was blushing furiously. The accompanying
twinge in my belly told me that at least part of me was not opposed to
the idea in principle. Then again, when had a sexual organ ever had
principles?

"I think it's a bit premature to be talking about taking my clothes
off," I said, "and you didn't answer part of my question. How much
modeling verses how much savings for the partnership?"

Rubbing his chin with his fingers, he considered that for a moment.
"Well, that depends on a number of factors that haven't been decided
yet. Size, quality and other variables that Doctor H. and I need to
discuss. A ballpark figure would be one hundred and eighty thousand for
the two portraits Doctor H. mentioned earlier. One of Danny and Holly,
and another of you."

As a partner, I knew the approximate cash flow and net worth of the
partnership and though we could easily afford it, that was still a
significant chunk of change. "Is that your usual rate? How much was the
painting of the kids on the bicycles, the at the front of the gallery
last night?"

Something must have bled through when I was talking about that painting
because he abruptly straightened and leaned forward. "The racing one?
You like it? It was a very fun painting to do. My brother's children
are so full of life."

I nodded. "I do like it, but right now we're just talking purchase
price. If I wanted to buy it today, how much would it be?"

"If I were selling it, it would go for fifty-five thousand. But it's
not for sale." he said.

I masked my disappointment. "Why not? And why so much? I can buy a lot
of paintings for a much less than that."

Keven grinned at me. "True, but how much is it really worth? Simple
economics and opportunity cost. I put in my time as a starving artist
and now my paintings draw that amount, and more, as my fame grows. I'm
not trying to blow my own horn here, but that's the way prices in the
art world are. In a few years, if my career stays on track, that one
painting would be worth many thousands more than someone paid for it
now. So, you see, you're not just buying the painting, but the name
that goes along with it."

"I see. I guess I never understood that about art before," I admitted.
"Is it not for sale so that it can go to your brother's family?"

A cloud came over his face. "No. It's not for sale because it's set
aside for someone as a gift. My brother and I had a falling out when we
were younger, and we no longer speak to each other. I talk with his
wife and my niece and nephew regularly, though, and visit them when he
is away. That's when I saw them racing."

Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "You two discuss details, and I'll
model for you, but I decide if the particulars are acceptable. How many
paintings do I need to model for?"

Keven smiled like he had just won the lottery. "Six. We don't have to
do them all at once, and we can work out the details of each project
beforehand. For example, we can discuss the first one over dinner
tonight."

I nodded and stood up. "Then I'll leave you two to talk. I need to go
check on a patient, and I think I'm just distracting you both from your
business now. Danny can give you my address and I'll see you at seven."

Keven rose smoothly to his feet and again took my hand and brought it
to his lips. "The remainder of the day will be an eternity. Until
then."

I nodded at Danny and managed to maintain my composure until I was
safely in the hall. Then I slumped against the wall and covered my face
in my hands, letting loose the emotions inside me, allowing them to
chase each other around the center of my being. What in the world was I
doing?

Then, with a deep breath, I pulled myself together and started down the
hall toward the recovery room. The last thing I needed was someone to
see me like this. I shook my head. I was a professional, a doctor. I
had too many irons in the fire to let this man, any man, turn me inside
out like this. That prompted a flashing vision of him on top of me, his
body touching mine and his lips caressing the soft underside of my
chin. Involuntarily, my body arched just like it did in the sudden
daydream, the sudden wet heat flooding me. Oh God, I did have it bad!

I staggered into the janitorial closet and closed the door behind me.
Sagging into the chair inside, I slumped over the small table. I
couldn't go on like this. My body was betraying me. It wanted to do
things to him that were illegal in a few states. Hell, it wanted him to
do things to it that were illegal in even more.

One ragged breath followed another as I forced the vision out of my
head and fought for distance and calm. I had thought everything was
fine in my sex life, but I'd quite obviously been deluding myself. I
had to admit the problem before I could deal with it. I craved his
touch. I wanted to give in to it. Part of me needed it in a primal way
that I had never felt before. And there was no way I was just going to
throw myself at him and be another notch on his bedpost. No matter how
much one part of me might want exactly that result.

Bit by bit, I more firmly grabbed the reins, wrested control of my
emotions and took command of my body. Once I felt that I could be
professional, and stay professional, I stepped back out of the closet.
Ben was just coming down the hall and cocked his head at me.

"There you are. Mrs. Henderson is awake and ready for you. Um, what
were you doing in the broom closet?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said primly. "Let's just say I had
some thinking to do and wanted the privacy."

"Okay..."

I smiled at him and patted his shoulder. "Nothing to worry about. These
aren't the droids you're looking for. Move along."

His eyes crinkled as he laughed. "Whatever you say, Obi Wan. I'm no
match for your Jedi mind tricks."

With a grin I went to check on Helen. She was awake and looking good. I
reassured her that everything went perfectly and then left her in the
capable hands of the recovery nurse.

A glance at my watch told me that lunchtime was looming, and I needed
to get out of here. Perhaps I could kill two birds with one stone. I
flipped open my Rolodex and found the number for Trina's boyfriend and
dialed it on my cell. If he was ducking her calls, he'd duck the office
number, too.

Two rings and he picked up. "Hello?"

"Just the man I was looking for," I said in a pleasant tone. "We need
to talk, Steve-O. If you have any lunch plans, change them."

He sighed. "I should have known she'd go crying to you. You women talk
about everything."

"That's right," I agreed. "We tell each other everything. I know more
about your sex life than you wish I did, too. Now that we've
established that I'm clued in, I want to meet you for lunch. Right now.
It's important."

"Look, I'd really rather not fight about this again, Sandy."

"Then don't," I said reasonably. "I'm not going to argue with you, but
I need to make sure that you and Trina understand where each of you are
sitting. Don't make me come down there, pal."

"Fine," he said, giving in. "I'll meet you at Coronado's in forty-five
minutes. I have to wrap up what I'm doing, and if you're going to read
me the riot act, at least I can have enchiladas."

"Thank you. I'll get a table on the patio. See you then," I said before
hanging up. I locked my door, stripped off the scrubs and put my street
clothes back on. Then I headed for the front door, searching through
the numbers in my cell phone.

By the time I was getting in my car, I had secured a patio table
through shameless use of my womanly charms. I smiled smugly at myself
in the mirror. Who wasn't in control?

I was just ordering my tea when Steve arrived. He added another tea to
the order and sat down.

"I'll be having the enchilada plate, he told the server. "No rice,
double beans. And no onions."

"Same here," I chimed in. "Except I want two sets of rice and pile the
onions on. Oh, and add in a bowl of chili cheese and chips."

After the server departed, I fixed my eyes on Steve. I could definitely
see what Trina saw in him. Big, ruggedly handsome and usually a nice
guy. "Let me start out by telling you something important, something
that you need to hear and need to remember. Trina loves you."

He shook his head. "I know she does, but dammit..."

I raised a hand and cut him off. "What I'm not going to do is tell you
that she's right or tell her you're right. I'm not here to settle your
disagreement. I'm just here to make sure you don't lose track of the
big picture while you're pissed off."

That took the wind out of his sails and he used the arrival of the tea
to get his thoughts in order.

"What the hell does that mean?" he finally asked without head. "I'm
dense, so use small words."

I smiled and shook my head. "You're not dense. You're a man. While the
two are similar, there are differences."

Steve seemed to finally relax as he gave me a small smile. "Here we
go."

"Look, people fight. So you and Trina had an argument. Whoop-ti-do.
That happens to millions of couples every hour of every day. The big
deal is that you're not talking about it anymore. You're dodging the
most important person in your life, and that has to stop. It's hurting
her."

"I'm not trying to hurt her," he defended himself. "I'm giving us both
space to cool off."

"My therapist tells me that men and women think in different ways," I
said.
"You may think you're just giving her time to cool off, but what you're
telling her by doing that is that her position in the argument is the
one that has destroyed your relationship and there's no possible
reconciliation. She's devastated."

"What?!?" he asked, truly astonished. "That's crazy!"

"No, it's not crazy," I said patiently. "That's the way women
think. As long as we can talk about something, it's still in play,
still negotiable. Women are born negotiators, in case you missed it.
We're willing to talk about lots of things, even unreasonable things.
It's when one of the players walks away from the table that we see the
line drawn in the sand. By not talking to her any more, she thinks that
the two of you have reached a non-negotiable impasse. Just think about
it until the food gets here."

I sipped my tea and watched him thinking. It occurred to me that I was
going through that same negotiating process with Keven, though I hadn't
put it into those exact words before. I was negotiating both with him
and myself, with Keven to see what I was willing to do, with myself to
see what I was willing to compromise about.

On the flip side of the gender issue, I needed to keep in mind that men
were more direct. Men thought and then acted, where women thought and
then emoted. Action vs. emotion. If Keven's direct and strong actions
so far meant what I thought, then he was as struck by me as I had been
of him, and probably had just as little understanding of what was
happening. At dinner, I needed to keep a firm hand on my emotions and
not let us get stampeded into something we didn't want. Or at the very
least, that I didn't want.  Now I just needed to decide what that was.

I was so lost in thought that the plates of food being delivered
startled me. With a smile at Steve, I gratefully accepted his
contemplative silence to allow my own situation to percolate in peace.
I wanted Trina and Steve to make up, but right now it wasn't what was
really worrying me. I knew that they'd figure out their situation. I
wasn't so sure about me and Keven.

The food was wonderful, as always. Part way through, Steve started
talking about the things he and Trina were planning to do in the near
future, and that reassured me that he had gotten the message. If he
didn't call her before I got back to the office I'd eat my cell phone.
I listened and made noises at the right times for the rest of the meal.

When the check came, Steve insisted on paying, and I didn't argue. I
toyed with whether to ask him about my own situation, and decided that
I could ask a few questions.  Steve was a nice, very discrete guy.

"Steve, there's a man that I met recently that seems really gung-ho
about going out with me. He seems really single-minded about it. Should
I be worried?"

"Does he frighten you?" he asked, his eyes sharpening.

I hesitated and then shrugged. "Maybe. Not really. Sort of. I don't
know, I guess. I've never had someone that seemed so determined to get
to know me."

He smiled. "Ah, a firm, definite, tentative, maybe, huh? Well, let me
give you my male perspective on this, and maybe you can decide on your
own how you really feel. Do you know if he's successful in what he
does?"

"Oh, yes," I nodded. "He's very successful in his field." I took a few
minutes to fill him in on all the pertinent details.

"You'll have to decide if he's stalker material, but in my opinion, his
behavior falls into the category of seeing what you want and going for
it. I'd say see how he is over dinner. Spending a couple of hours with
him will settle your mind on what kind of person he is and what he
wants. You can always double date with Trina and me."

I smiled and shook my head. "No, I think I can handle this myself.
Besides, you'll probably be busy tonight." I grabbed my purse and stood
up. "Thanks for talking to me and for the advice. Now, call Trina and
send flowers. Trust me."

As I made my way into the parking lot I drew a deep breath and settled
into my car, lowering the top. I started the Porsche and let the rumble
of the engine calm me with its simple, stable noise. I was going to do
this. I was going to seriously think about letting someone into my life
that could disrupt all the priorities I'd already settled on. I must be
out of my mind.

My thoughts were interrupted when the passenger door opened. I turned
my head to see what Steve wanted and froze in shock. The man that
flopped into my seat was a dark-complexioned stranger with short black
hair.

"What the..." I started to say before he silenced me by pulling a gun
out from under his coat.

"Shut up and start driving," he snarled in a heavy Brooklyn accent.

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