Loving the Billionaire Heir Doc

Chapter 1-2

Alicia looked around the office while she waited for Carla to finish what she was reading on a computer that sat facing her on her small brown desk. The cream-walled room seemed tiny, with its mini-cubicle-like dimensions that could only accommodate the desk and two compact chairs for visitors.

The room seemed a tight fit especially for Carla, a jolly, buxom five-foot woman with short brown hair who seemed to enjoy eating her donuts as much as she loved giving them out. The rest of her work surface was piled high with disorganized documents, a myriad of pens, and sticky notes visible between the papers. The smell of freshly baked donuts resting on a mini tray—where it seemed at home perched on a small corner of the desk—tickled Alicia’s nose, and her stomach growled.

Alicia grimaced. She’d had no time to grab breakfast before heading to the wards. She darted a glance at Carla, but it appeared she hadn’t heard the noise.

Carla clicked out of whatever page she had been looking at and anchored her attention on Alicia. “I’ve checked with the insurance company, and unfortunately, Willow’s insurance does not cover experimental treatment.”

Alicia struggled to steady herself, hope seeping from her like air from a deflated balloon. Even though there was no guarantee, she had expected some portion of the costs to be covered. Well, it had been worth a check. She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear as her mind struggled to think of other alternatives she could explore. But it seemed that particular well was dry.

However, it appeared Carla hadn’t finished. By now, beads of sweat were sprouting on her forehead, despite the cool atmosphere. Alicia watched as they coalesced to form rivulets that ran down the side of her face and then her neck. Carla pulled a white handkerchief from her black jacket and dabbed them away. “So, I looked within the hospital to see if there were any funds or grants that Willow might be eligible for. Fortunately, she qualifies for a five-thousand-dollar grant from the Elaine Hartford Memorial Fund, which supports caregivers in covering medical costs for children with genetic diseases. I put in an application yesterday and got a confirmation this morning that Willow has been approved for it.”

It was like a boulder rolled off Alicia’s chest, and tears welled up behind her eyelids. If only she could reach over and plaster kisses on Carla’s chubby cheeks. But Carla would think she was nuts. She smiled instead and leaned back on the metal chair. “That’s good news,” she said. For some reason, the chair was not as uncomfortable as before.

But Carla rubbed her fingers on her furrowed forehead. “That leaves ten thousand dollars that you still need to cover.”

Alicia nodded. Funny, she wasn’t as worried as before. The five-thousand-dollar grant must have done a number on me, she thought. Like it had pierced the veil of worry and brought Alicia back to her senses.

Alicia couldn’t think of any sources at the moment to raise the money, but she knew they had to exist. I’m not going to give up, she thought. Willow would get the treatment no matter what it took. Alicia straightened up in the chair and held Carla’s gaze. “Thanks for checking, Carla. The five thousand dollars really helps. Don’t worry, I’ll figure out a way to raise the remaining money.”

Carla responded with a tentative smile. Seems she doesn’t really believe me, Alicia thought. Well, she was going to make it happen. She watched Carla make a few notes on the computer.

Alicia’s phone buzzed in her coat pocket. She pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. Shoot. It was the alarm, reminding her about her next appointment. If she didn’t hurry, she was going to be late for the attending round, her first in this new rotation, which wouldn’t speak well of her. She stood up. “Thanks, Carla.” She didn’t wait for a response and hurried to the door.

“Good luck, and let me know how it goes,” Carla’s muffled voice echoed from behind her. It sounded like Carla was back on the donuts.

Alicia stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. Her mind swirled in a whirlwind as she hurried down the hallway. Ten thousand dollars. It didn’t seem as daunting as fifteen thousand dollars had. Was she now seeing the glass as half-full instead of half-empty? No matter. The most important task now was to find the money even if she had no idea how—to fill up the glass so to speak. Help me, God, she prayed.

She would find a way to make it work for Willow no matter what it took.

Because she had to make up for all the wrong she’d done.

There was no other option.