Doctor Love

Chapter 3

KATE’S POV

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the rapid pounding of my heart in my ears. Dr. Bennett's icy gaze cut through the corridor like a scalpel through skin.

"What exactly is going on here?" Dr. Bennett repeated, his voice deceptively calm as he glanced down at my resume under his polished shoe.

Nobody answered. Not even the ever-confident David could manage a word. The silence stretched so thin I could hear the quiet hum of the air conditioning.

Rita finally broke the silence, her voice honeyed with fake pleasantry. "Good afternoon, Doctor Bennett. We were just helping the... applicants... get oriented."

Dr. Bennett raised a silver eyebrow, clearly not buying it as he bent down to retrieve my resume from the floor. He glanced at it briefly, then looked directly at me.

"And who are you?" he asked, his tone clipped and professional.

I swallowed hard, desperately trying to compose myself. "Kate Stanley, sir. I have—had—an interview scheduled with you. For 10 AM."

David immediately stepped forward, straightening his already impeccable tie. "I’m David Villa, sir. From Prof. Villa. I also have an interview scheduled with you. For the assistant position."

My head whipped toward him.

Dr. Bennett's stern expression didn't change as he consulted his wristwatch. "It's fifteen minutes past ten already." He looked up, his gaze shifting between David and me. "You're both in trouble. Follow me."

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and started walking down the corridor. David immediately fell into step behind him, shooting me a smug glance over his shoulder. I hurried after them, my mind racing.

Dr. Bennett led us through a series of hallways, each more elegant than the last, finally stopping at a frosted glass door marked "Physician Lounge." He pushed it open, revealing a spacious room that looked like it belonged in a luxury hotel rather than a hospital.

Leather sofas were arranged around a central coffee table. One wall was lined with medical journals and reference books, while another featured a large screen displaying various patient metrics. Several doctors in white coats looked up from their tablets as we entered.

"Andrews, Phillips, out," Dr. Bennett barked at two younger doctors who scrambled to their feet and exited without question. Once they'd left, he gestured to the sofa. "Sit."

We both sat, carefully maintaining space between us. I perched at the edge of the cushion, my back straight, while David lounged comfortably as if he owned the place.

Dr. Bennett remained standing, looming over us with my crumpled resume in one hand and what I assumed was David's pristine CV in the other.

"Would either of you care to explain why you were bantering words at the reception instead of coming for your interview?" Dr. Bennett asked, his voice sharp with irritation.

I opened my mouth to explain, but David cut me off.

"Just a slight misunderstanding, sir," he said smoothly. "Ms. Stanley and I were discussing our qualifications, and things got a bit... competitive."

"Competitive?" I repeated, unable to contain myself. "You were mocking my education and experience!"

"I was simply pointing out the differences in our backgrounds," David replied with an innocent shrug. "Nothing personal."

"You snatched my resume and—"

"Enough," Dr. Bennett snapped. He looked down at both resumes in his hands, then back at us. "I scheduled these interviews at the same time for a reason. I don't appreciate finding my candidates engaged in childish disputes in the hallway."

"I apologize, sir," I said quickly. "It wasn't my intention—"

"Save it," he cut me off. "The assistant position is for one person only." He glanced between us again. "So let me ask you both directly: Which of you deserves to work here?"

The question hung in the air like a challenge. I took a deep breath, determined not to let David's intimidation tactics get to me.

"I believe I'm the right candidate for this position," I said, meeting Dr. Bennett's eyes. "I was the best in my course. I've spent two years working specifically in neurosurgery, assisting in over two hundred procedures. I'm dedicated, organized, and I genuinely care about patient outcomes."

Dr. Bennett's expression remained neutral, giving nothing away. He turned to David. "And you, David Villa?"

I had this feeling he knew David or the Prof. Villa David mentioned earlier. Does his father have any connection with this hospital? Do I have any chance at all?

David smiled that perfect, practiced smile. "Well, as Ms. Stanley pointed out, she was the best in her course," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "At Westlake Medical College. And I graduated top of my class at Harvard Medical School. She worked at Downtown General and Memorial. I completed my residency at Mayo Clinic before joining the staff here."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a confidential tone as if he and Dr. Bennett were in on some private joke. "I think we both know which background better prepares someone for the standards of Meridian Grace. It's logical that it's me."

My stomach twisted with dread. I knew how this would look on paper. Harvard versus Westlake wasn't even a contest.

Dr. Bennett looked down at both resumes again, his expression thoughtful. For a moment, I allowed myself to hope that he might see beyond the names, that he might recognize my actual experience over David's pedigree.

"You're right," Dr. Bennett said finally, looking at David.

My heart sank.

"Harvard Medical School, Mayo Clinic... those are impressive credentials," Dr. Bennett continued. He turned to me, his expression dismissive. "Girl, goodbye."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Not even "Ms. Reynolds" or "Kate." Just "Girl." As if I wasn't worth the effort of using my name.

"I've seen enough," Dr. Bennett cut me off. "David Villa has the background we're looking for at Meridian Grace."

David didn't even attempt to hide his satisfaction. His smile was blindingly white as he stood and extended his hand to Dr. Bennett. "Thank you, sir. I won't disappoint you."

"I expect not," Dr. Bennett replied, shaking David's hand. "Report to my office tomorrow morning at seven sharp. We'll discuss your duties then."

I sat frozen on the edge of the sofa, humiliation burning through me. This couldn't be happening. To be dismissed without even a chance to speak, without even a proper interview.

"This is completely unfair," I said, standing up. "You're judging me solely on where I went to school, not on my actual abilities or experience."

Dr. Bennett looked at me as if I were a particularly bothersome fly. "Ms. Reynolds, Meridian Grace has standards. We maintain those standards by selecting only the best candidates. Your background simply doesn't meet our requirements."

"My background includes saving lives," I replied, my voice trembling with suppressed anger. "Just like any doctor from Harvard."

"Not quite like any doctor from Harvard," David interjected with a smirk. "There's a reason some hospitals are prestigious and others are... charitable institutions."

I turned to him, ready to unleash two years of medical terminology in the form of creative insults, but Dr. Bennett's cold voice stopped me.

"That will be all, Ms. Reynolds. Security can show you out if necessary."

The threat was clear. Make a scene, and I'd be escorted from the building like a troublemaker rather than a qualified medical professional.

I gathered what remained of my dignity, along with my crumpled resume that Dr. Bennett carelessly tossed onto the coffee table. "I'll see myself out, thank you."

As I turned to leave, David rose and followed me to the door. For a brief, delusional moment, I thought he might apologize or at least show some basic human decency now that he'd gotten what he wanted.

Instead, he leaned in close as I reached for the door handle, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered: "Your place is behind the reception desk!"