Taming Dr. Lion

CHAPTER ONE The Jerk in the Jaguar “If a car was going to end me, at least let it be something less pretentious than a Jaguar.” “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I blurted, quickly bending down to gather the paperwork scattered across the pavement. What the hell is this day? I couldn’t help but think as I scrambled to pick up my files. It was Monday morning, and the road near the hospital was busier than ever. Commuters rushed past, businesses opened their shutters, and impatient cars honked nonstop. “What’s the holdup, Benson?” a voice called from the sleek black car beside me. “Some lady just appeared out of nowhere, sir. She dropped her paperwork,” another voice replied. I wanted to disappear. I’d stayed up all night working on these very documents - the ones now being trampled by wind and chaos. Rent, groceries, my little brother’s school fees… all resting on the pages I was currently chasing like an i***t. What was I thinking walking into the road like that? It’s a miracle I wasn’t run over. Probably the headache from the gallons of coffee I’d downed to stay awake. I really should cut back on caffeine before I get seriously hurt. “Can you pick those up any faster, girl?” someone snapped behind me. I turned around and locked eyes with a pair of striking blue ones. The man towering over me looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ - dark, perfectly styled hair, tall, in a tailored suit that screamed power. He even smelled expensive. His polished black car was the cherry on top. Of course, he screamed money. The kind of money that could probably buy me and all my life’s problems. Not that I owned anything worth more than a week’s groceries. I stared a second too long before his sharp voice snapped me out of it. “Lady, you’re causing traffic,” he said, his voice as cutting as his cheekbones. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, still scrambling to gather the pages. Great. I’m officially humiliated. “Great. Some dumb girl has made me late,” he muttered behind me. Dumb? Anger bubbled up in my chest. Who the hell did this guy think he was? “It would go faster if you stopped yelling and actually helped me!” I snapped, reaching for the last sheet - only for someone else to pick it up first. I looked up and saw another man - also handsome, but with a softer presence. He smiled kindly and handed me the paper. Something about his calm voice and gentle eyes cooled the storm rising inside me. “I’m really sorry about his behavior, ma’am,” he said sincerely. “It’s fine,” I sighed. “This was all my fault, anyway.” “You better be sorry,” the rude guy cut in, motioning to the growing line of cars. “Look at all the traffic you’ve caused! Are you auditioning for worst pedestrian of the year?” My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I turned toward the drivers behind him. “I’m so sorry!” I called out. “Can you get out of the way, girl?” he snapped again. Girl? There was clearly something wrong with this man. Someone needed to reboot his entire personality. I didn’t want to be in this situation any more than he did, but that didn’t give him the right to treat me like garbage. “Hello? Move!” he barked, climbing back into his car and slamming the door. I scurried toward the sidewalk and the hospital doors, my heart pounding as the full weight of the morning sank in. I glanced at my wristwatch. Five minutes late. Of course. Perfect. Just perfect. “Sorry!” the nicer guy called after me. The car doors slammed, engines revved, and I vowed never to see the jerk in the Jaguar again. “Rae, you’re late. Today of all days,” my work bestie, Leah, said as I hurried to the nurse’s station to clock in. “Yeah… I ran into a bit of an accident,” I replied, slipping my ID around my neck. The jerk’s blue eyes flashed in my mind - my humiliation reel now had a star performer. “Oh no, are you okay?” she asked, scanning me for injuries like a human MRI machine. “I’m fine,” I said quickly. “What’s happening today?” I asked, desperate to steer the conversation away from my embarrassing morning. “A new surgeon’s starting today - in neurosurgery! I heard he’s one of the best in the world, and guess what? He picked our hospital. Can you believe it?” Her eyes sparkled like she’d just won a raffle. How could I forget? Of course, my bad luck had to hit on this kind of day. I was just thankful I walked in before he did. Imagine if I’d been any later - now that would’ve been mortifying. Maybe my luck was turning? “Ooh, that’s cool. The neurosurgery unit’s been dead for a while. Nice to see it getting revived,” I said, settling into my chair and digging into the mountain of paperwork I still hadn’t conquered. “I also heard…” Leah leaned in, whispering dramatically, “that he’s hot. Like, TV-doctor hot. And rich. As in heir-to-some-medical-empire kind of rich. This place is about to get interesting.” “I don’t really care, Leah,” I muttered, eyes glued to the patient chart in front of me. And I didn’t. All I cared about was paying off debt, keeping a roof over our heads, and raising my little brother. Not rich, entitled surgeons - especially not if they had the same God-complex energy as that man from earlier. “You’re so boring,” Leah whined. “All you care about is work.” “Okay. Yay! Cute doctor,” I said, raising fake jazz hands. “Happy now?” She stuck her tongue out. “No need to fake it, Miss Buzzkill. Anyway, rounds start in thirty minutes, workaholic ma’am.” “I am not a buzzkill!” I shouted behind her as she walked off, laughing. Ugh. I just have real-world bills and real-world problems. If I could think about anything other than work, trust me - I would. But right now, thirty minutes of paperwork meant maybe a bit of peace tonight. Just maybe. I lost track of time. What is wrong with me today? I’d been paged to help welcome the new surgeon, and I missed it. Panic shot through me as I grabbed my notes, checked my phone, and realized I still had a sliver of time to make it to the meeting. I sprinted down the hallway, heart thudding. Maybe I could slide in quietly and blend into the crowd like a chameleon in scrubs. I had almost made it when a voice - one I now dreaded - sliced through the room like a scalpel. That voice. It sounded... familiar. Too familiar. My stomach tightened. No. No. Please, no. Not him. “Nice of you to make it… girl.” My stomach dropped to my shoes. Please don’t let it be - The crowd parted like some bad biblical reenactment. And there he was. Blue eyes. Chiseled jaw. Designer lab coat. Walking ego. The jerk from the parking lot. Of course. Of course it’s him. My life is officially a rom-com written by a sadistic screenwriter. I swallowed hard, praying the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Can this day get any worse?