Tryst (3 page)

Talie

Did I ever mention I loved my job?

No?

That’s because it suck
ed.

M
y job was to do all the billing in a local doctor’s office. I spent most of my day sitting behind a desk in my cramped little office, dealing with insurance companies, billing codes, and people who thought it was unfair their insurance didn’t pay more for their bills.

A lot of times
, I agreed with those people, but I wasn’t allowed to say so. My job was to put up with their angry calls and then try to work out a system or payment plan so they could pay what they owed.

It also didn’t help
that the primary doctor in the office was an egotistical chauvinist. All the girls that worked in the office (there were no men) were all very beautiful, with toned bodies, perfect hair, and large chests.

And then there was me.

I did have full breasts, but my hair was never perfect and my body needed to spend about six months in the gym before it looked toned. I was one of those women who looked “soft.” I was shaped like an hourglass with ample boobs and, what people fondly told me as I was growing up, a bubble butt.

How telling anyone their
butt was large was supposed to be fond I had no idea.

While I wasn’t really overweight I could stand to lose about ten pounds and to maybe run off some of the extra cushion in my trunk. Eating
an entire ice cream cake and box of donuts was not the way to do this. I knew that, but I guess I didn’t really care. I’d never been the pretty one or the one that caught the stares of men whenever I was out. People always told me I was
cute
. I was always the one everyone would be friends with while they lusted after my friends.

In high school
, I used to wish just one guy would tell me I was beautiful, because being beautiful in one man’s eyes would make being cute to everyone else okay.

I never did find that guy.

But then Blake came along in college. He was charming, charismatic, and self-confident. I was surprised when he started looking at me like I was more than just a friend. He could have any girl he wanted… so why was he looking at me?

I asked him that once, after we had a few dates. He said he liked a woman who wasn’t so caught up in herself. A woman who didn’t just think about how she looked all the time, someone who liked to laugh and eat popcorn with butter at movies. He also said he liked my laugh, that it was the laugh of an angel.

Angels = beautiful.

The memory left a bitter taste in my mouth. What he
’d really meant was he wanted a woman who thought about him more than herself. A woman who would be too busy thinking how lucky she was to be with a successful businessman who had a well-respected family to notice he only cared about himself. He thought I would be too grateful to notice he lied. When he said he didn’t want a woman caught up in herself, what he really meant was he wanted someone who would look the other way when he slept with the kind of woman I wasn’t.

He should have paid better attention.

I might not be beautiful.

But I was nobody’s doormat.

He called my phone again about an hour after I started working, so I just shut it off and tossed it in my desk drawer. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him today.

I was buried in numbers and paperwo
rk when Dr. Asik walked by my office. I heard the high-pitched giggle of one of the girl’s out front.

I rolled my eyes. I never flirted with him
. I never smiled coyly and giggled when he complimented my outfit (not that he ever did). I often wondered how many of the girls he was sleeping with in this office, and while it always gave me the creeps, it never totally made me sick… until now.

I was beginning to think I was some kind of asshole
-attractor.

Molly, the receptionist out front knocked on my door as she walked in. “She’s out front. She wants to see you.”

Her voice was sympathetic and partly weary.

I groaned. I knew exactly who “she” was.
Mrs. Luster was the epitome of a thorn in my side. She had been coming here since I started working behind this desk several years ago. I dreaded the times she or her children had to make a visit to the office. It always resulted in about a pound of paperwork for me. She was insistent that her insurance company pay every last dime of every single one of her bills. If they didn’t approve the whole visit or treatment, she would have me recode it and send the invoice out again. If that didn’t work, she would have me bill her secondary insurance. Yes, she had secondary insurance. It was a good thing to have. But frankly, this woman abused the system and she used me to do it.

And if I even looked like I was going to tell her she owed a portion of her bill
, fireworks ensued.

There were days I considered calling in sick when I thought I had to deal with her.

“Can this day get any better?” I muttered.

“I could tell her to make an appointment…” Molly offered.

“She doesn’t have one?”

She shook her head. “No
, she said this concerns a bill from a previous appointment.”

I groaned. I knew the bill. I’d resubmitted it like three times already. I managed to get the portion she owed down to
about fifty dollars. I thought—no, I’d hoped she would just pay it and be quiet.

I guess my naivety extended to more parts of my life beyond men.

“Just send her in. Might as well get it over with.”

Molly seemed relieved. I didn’t blame her. She was brave to offer to make Mrs. Luster schedule an appointment because the woman would likely cause a scene. “Thank you,” she mouthed and then went to fetch the dragon
—I mean, woman.

I pulled up her account
, which I actually knew by heart, and then waited for her to enter. It didn’t take long.

She breezed into the room
, all five feet of her. For a woman so small, she sure commanded a lot of space and attention. In her hands she clutched the bill. In the depths of her brown eyes churned the will of a WWE fighter.

The weight I felt on my shoulders earlier seemed to intensify. I cleared my throat and sat up a little straighter, battling against the heaviness I was feeling.

“I got another bill today.
This
one threatened to send me to the collection agency if it’s not paid by next month.”

“Mrs. Luster, I’ve submitted that particular bill three times. The point of the matter is your son broke his arm. It was an unfortunate accident. This office was very happy to
help him heal and look after his care. How is your son, by the way?”

“Chandler is just fine
.” She sniffed.

“That’s wonderful news
,” I said cheerfully while my inner self was barfing. “I hope you will understand sometimes the insurance just won’t cover bills entirely, no matter how many times I resubmit them.”

“Change the coding.”

This woman should have been a lawyer.

“I have. Many times. There are no codes left that apply to this charge.”

“Are you saying you refuse to do your job?” she shrieked.

The headache behind my eyes intensified. “Mrs. Luster
…” I began, not really sure what I would say to get through to this nutcase, but knowing I had to do something.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she muttered. “You
’re nothing but an incompetent bimbo.”

I gasped. “Excuse me?”

She looked pointedly at my chest, which was extremely offensive. “Well, it’s clear your skills are not why you’re kept around.”

Like a brittle piece of pl
astic left out in the cold too long, I snapped. I rose out of my chair to my full height, which happened to be two whole inches taller than her. “That was extremely uncalled for. There is no reason to be rude. I am very good at what I do—”

“If you were
, you would fix this!” she demanded, shoving the bill between us.

“Just pay it!” I burst out.

Dr. Asik pushed my door open all the way and stepped inside. He was dressed in black slacks, a dress shirt, and a white doctor’s coat. “Ladies?” He began, looking between us. “Is there a problem?”

“This woman is an incompetent
excuse for a billing representative,” Mrs. Luster responded immediately.

I felt my face redden under her attack. I really didn’t have the patience for this today. “Dr. Asik, this patient is having a problem with paying her bill. She’s become upset and insulting.”

I thought the woman was going to explode. Her eyes narrowed and her chest puffed out with the huge breath she drew in. “Let me tell you something,” she spat. “I have been coming to this office with my family for many years now. It’s become quite the chore to deal with your billing manager.” She looked directly at the doctor. “I’m thinking perhaps I should take my business elsewhere.”

“Please, God,” I prayed. Yeah
, I said it out loud. It wasn’t my most professional moment, but it was certainly nicer than I wanted to be.

Dr. Asik flicked a gaze at me and then turned his blue eyes and charming smile on Mrs. Luster. “I certainly hope you don’t take your family elsewhere, ma’am
,” he said smoothly and in a calm voice. For a guy with such a giant ego, he had good bedside manner. Even if I knew it was fake. “You are a valued part of the practice family. How is your son, by the way?”

Oh
, geez. What was this, ass kisser anonymous?

“He’s doing well, thank you. He’s a popular boy, has the cast filled with signatures.”

Dr. Asik chuckled warmly. “I just bet he does.” He glanced down at the bill being crushed in her hand. “Why don’t you let me take care of that?” he said, reaching for the bill.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. Seriously? He was going to reward her for bad behavior? What a douchebag.

“I would appreciate that.” She sniffed and gave me a victorious look.

I thought about throwing my cup of pens. At. Her. Face.

After she surrendered the bill to the doctor, he looked at me. “We should talk.”

My mouth ran dry and my heart rate accelerated. Really? This crazy comes in here and throws a fit because I was doing my job
, and
I
get in trouble?

Could this day get any worse?

I cleared my throat. “Of course.”

Before leaving
, Mrs. Luster glanced at me and I thought I might have seen a flash of regret in her eyes before it was gone and she exited the room with her haughty stance and posture.

The door snapped with finality when the doctor closed it behind her. I sank down into my chair wearily.

“That was poorly handled,” he said.

My eyes shot up. “That woman is a complete monster. Every time she comes in here
, we all cringe.”

“I see
,” he said, mulling over my words.

I remained silent. The words that wanted to make their way out of my mouth were not very nice.

“You’ve worked here a long time,” he said, sticking the bill in the pocket of his coat. “You’re not a team player.”

“A team player?” I echoed.

“That’s right. All the other girls might cringe when difficult patients walk in, but unlike you, they handle those people with grace.”

“That woman
—” I began, feeling the intense urge to take up for myself.

He held up his hand to stop me. “I have kept you on because you a
re very good at coding and with the numbers. But working with others, being part of a team, is not your strong suit.”

“I didn’t realize I was on a team. I’m the only billing rep you have here.”

He sighed and stepped closer to the edge of my desk. I swear he was getting off on towering over me. An intense urge to stand burned through me. I ignored it. I really didn’t want him to think I was challenging him.

“That’s the problem, Talie. The people in this office are a team. We go out for drinks occasionally. We stay late to get to know each other, and the other women here are always ready and willing to let me know they enjoy their job.”

And I no longer had suspicions that the girls here were sleeping with him. Now I
knew
they were.

“Maybe if you were more of a team
player
,” he said, emphasizing the word player, “I might be able to overlook the aversion to working with others and being hostile toward the patients.”

“Hostile!” I demanded. That was just dramatic.
My chair slid backward up against the wall when I stood.

He looked me over. His lingering eyes made me feel slimy. “Is everything all right?” he asked. “You’re looking a little frayed.”

“I’m fine,” I replied curtly.

“Maybe you would like to have a drink after hours and tell me what caused you to be less than courteous toward
this patient today?”