Doctor Love

Chapter 2

KATE’S POV

Their voices blended into a symphony of mockery that seemed to echo off the polished surfaces of Meridian Grace.

Finally, I closed my agape mouth with my cheeks burning hotter than before. This wasn't just rejection; it was public humiliation. And for what? For daring to believe I could rise above my station? For thinking my skills mattered more than my appearance?

"Is that all this place cares about?" I heard myself saying, my voice somehow cutting through their laughter. "Designer labels and looking the part?"

The laughter died abruptly. Four pairs of surprised eyes turned to me.

"Excuse me?" The guy said, raising an eyebrow.

"I said," and now my voice was steadier, fueled by a sudden anger that pushed past my embarrassment, "is that all Meridian Grace cares about? Because I was under the impression this was a hospital, not a fashion show. I was under the impression that Dr. Bennett was looking for someone with actual medical knowledge and experience, not just someone who can accessorize."

Rita's mouth fell open slightly. "You can't speak to him like that," she hissed.

"Why not?" I challenged, beyond caring at this point. "Because he's handsome? Because he's important? That doesn't give him the right to be cruel. None of you even looked at my qualifications before deciding I don't belong here."

He straightened, his amused expression fading into something more calculating. "And what exactly are those qualifications, Ms...?"

"Stanley. Kate Stanley," I replied, squaring my shoulders. I stared at the smirking faces surrounding me, my chest tight with humiliation.

"So," he said, leaning casually against the reception desk as if he owned the place, "you really think you have what it takes to work at Meridian Grace?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the burning in my cheeks.

"Confidence! I like that," he said with a mocking grin that made my stomach clench. "Tell me, where exactly did you train? Harvard? Johns Hopkins? NYU?"

I lifted my chin. "Westlake Medical College."

The silence that followed was deafening. Then he let out a low whistle.

"Westlake? Never heard of it. Must be... prestigious."

Rita snickered behind her perfectly manicured hand. "Is that even accredited?"

"Of course it is," I shot back. "It's one of the top colleges in the state."

"The state of desperation, maybe," he said, and the nurses dissolved into laughter again.

I clutched my resume folder tighter. "I graduated top of my class."

"Top of what class? Five people?" he asked, his eyes glittering with cruel amusement. "Look, Kate—it is Kate, right? Meridian Grace isn't just any hospital. They're the best. They only hire the best."

"From the best schools," Rita added helpfully.

"With the best credentials," chimed in another nurse, whose name tag read "Melissa."

"And the best..." he paused, his eyes traveling slowly down my body, "...sense of style."

More laughter. I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest. My simple dress felt like it was shrinking by the second.

“And who are you to think I can’t be hired?”

“Well,” he stood proudly like a peacock. “Becuase I, David Villa, deserves that role.”

I raised a curious brow. “So you’re here for the interview too?”

“I don’t need to be interviewed. I will be hired with a click of the hand.”

“I see.”

He must have some connections for him to speak that way. Now I see why the nurse didn’t look surprised when he arrived. I almost thought he was also working here.

David cocked his head. "Maybe we should take a look at these spectacular qualifications."

Before I could stop him, he reached out and plucked the folder from my hands.

"Hey! Give that back!" I protested, reaching for it.

David stepped backward, holding the folder above his head with a smirk. "Just taking a professional interest in a potential colleague."

"That's private!" I lunged for the folder, but he easily kept it out of my reach.

"Nothing's private in medicine, Kate. We're all family here," he said with false warmth as he flipped open the folder.

The nurses crowded around him, peering at my resume with exaggerated interest.

I reached for my resume again, and this time my fingers caught the edge. "Give it back!"

David jerked the folder away, but I held onto one corner. The folder twisted between us, papers slipping out and scattering.

"Now look what you've done," he said, as if I was the one being unreasonable.

I dropped to my knees, scrambling to collect my credentials, letters of recommendation, and certificates that were now splayed across the polished floor.

"Oh, look at this," Rita said, bending to pick up one of my papers. "She studied alternative medicine as an elective. What did they teach you there, how to diagnose by horoscope?"

"Let me guess," David added, hands on his hips as he watched me gather my papers. "Virgo with cancer rising means... cancer?"

The nurses exploded into fresh laughter.

"It was a complementary medicine course about how different cultural approaches to healing can work alongside traditional medicine," I explained, my voice tight with anger as I snatched the paper from Rita's hand. "It helps when working with diverse patient populations."

"Diverse, meaning poor?" David asked.

"Diverse meaning human beings who deserve respect regardless of their bank accounts," I snapped back, surprising myself with my boldness.

A flash of something surprise crossed David's face before his mocking smile returned.

Then, as if in slow motion, I saw a polished leather shoe come down, stopping the page in its tracks.

The laughter died instantly.

I looked up from the shoe to the leg, up the perfectly pressed slacks, the white coat, and finally to the stern face of an older man with silver hair and piercing blue eyes. His name tag read "Dr. Alexander Bennett, Chief of Neurosurgery."

The very man I was supposed to be interviewing with.

"What exactly is going on here?" Dr. Bennett asked, his voice quiet but carrying an unmistakable authority that made even David Villa straighten up.