Brenda Jackson - The Real Thing

Trinity blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.”

Something within Trinity snapped. Not caring if anyone passing by heard her, she said, “I will not break things off with him! You have no right to dictate something like that to me.”

A smirk appeared on his face before he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was privy to their conversation. “I can make or break you, Dr. Matthews. If you rub me the wrong way, all those years you spent in medical school won’t mean a damn thing. Think about it.”

He turned to walk off, but then, as if he’d forgotten to say something, he turned back. “And the next time you decide to report me to someone, think twice. My family practically owns this hospital. I suggest you remember that. And to make sure we fully understand each other, I’ve requested your presence in the next two surgeries I have scheduled, which coincidently are on your next two days off. What a pity.” Chuckling to himself, he walked off.

Trinity just stared at him. She felt as if steam were coming out of her ears. He’d just admitted to sabotaging her time off. How dare he!

Placing the patient’s chart back on the rack, she angrily headed to the office of Wendell Fowler, the chief of pediatrics. Not bothering to wait on the elevator, she took the stairs. By the time she went up three flights of stairs she was even madder.

Dr. Fowler’s secretary, an older woman by the name of Marissa Adams, glanced up when she saw her. “Yes, Dr. Matthews?”

“I’d like to see Dr. Fowler. It’s important.”

The woman nodded. “Please have a seat and I’ll see if Dr. Fowler is available.”

She hadn’t been seated a few minutes when the secretary called out to her. “Dr. Fowler will see you now, Dr. Matthews.”

“Thanks.” Trinity walked around the woman’s desk and headed for Wendell Fowler’s office.

Less than a half hour later Trinity left Dr. Fowler’s office unsatisfied. The man hadn’t been any help. He’d even accused her of dramatizing the situation. He’d then tried to convince her that working in surgery on her days off under the guidance of Dr. Belvedere would be a boost to her medical career.

Feeling a degree of fury the likes of which she’d never felt before, she walked past Ms. Adams’s desk with her head held high, fighting back tears in her eyes. If Dr. Belvedere’s goal was to break her resolve and force her to give in to what he wanted, then he was wasting his time. If she had to give up her days off this week, she would do it. She refused to let anyone break her down.

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