Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Just so I can prepare myself, is that likely to happen again?” she asks as she comes in holding a pad and a pen. She’s more attractive than I pictured her. She’s got long brown hair tied up in a ponytail and bits at the side hanging loose. It’s nice. Which is weird—not that her hair is weird. It’s just been a while since I noticed a woman’s hair.
“It’s difficult to say.” I’ve learned not to assume my brothers won’t do something idiotic. It always comes back to bite me. I let go of the balloons and they pool on the ceiling.
“Is it?” she asks.
“Prepare for the unexpected,” I say, like I’m some sort of sage Jedi master. I’m pretty sure there won’t be much of anything unexpected in this job.
“Okay. Would you prefer me to wear a suit?” She takes a seat opposite my desk. “Or did you have a uniform in mind? I’m flexible.”
I ignore the stirring in my trousers at the idea of her dressing as a French maid and doing flexible things in front of the window.
“Just dress smartly,” I reply. Everywhere I turn, I realize not only have I not done the preparation I should have for this new chapter of my career, I’ve not even thought about what that preparation is. “At this stage, no uniform.” Maybe further down the line, I would want my assistant in a uniform. Maybe not. I can’t think.
“First thing, let’s order some stationery.” I lift my chin at the whiteboard. “Whiteboard pens would be good.”
She draws her eyebrows together like she knows I clearly don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but she notes it down anyway.
“And I need some business cards and letterhead.” Anything else? “That kind of thing,” I add in case I missed anything obvious.
“Yes. What would you like them to say? Is your clinic going to have a name or is it just you?”
“Just me,” I say as if I’m sure. “Very simple branding.”
“I notice you don’t have a website. Is that something you’re looking to get up and running?” she asks. “I could do some research and maybe get a few quotes.”
“Yes. Good.” She’s one step ahead, which is reassuring and disconcerting at the same time.
“And you don’t have any patients booked in yet?”
I shake my head. “Today’s the first day. I need to get consultant recognition with the insurers. I won’t get many patients before that.”
She tilts her head to one side, revealing her long neck. “Hmmm, and you’re super attractive. Have you thought about getting a public relations firm, or a manager? You could do television work. You know, be the in-house doctor on one of those morning shows.”
She’s running at a thousand miles an hour and I haven’t even stood up yet. “I’m not interested in that kind of thing,” I say.
Did I hear her say I’m super attractive?
“Or do you know any celebrities?” she asks. “I’ve done a bit of PR here and there and I could contact some people I know and get you some coverage if you’re treating anyone famous.”
“I’d have to check,” I say, and I can’t help the sarcastic tone in my voice. “But I’m pretty sure I owe my patients a duty of confidentiality—famous or not.”
She laughs like I’m the one who’s saying something idiotic. “I wouldn’t give away names—just so we could tell people that you’re a ‘doctor to the stars.’ You know, something like that. But then if you’re not interested in the spotlight…”
“I’m not.”
She nods and taps her pen against the notepad. “Have you started the consultant recognition stuff?” she asks. “I could help you with it.”
“I’m—I think it’s best if you get the computer set up. And if you’re confident, maybe get some email addresses for each of us. Business cards and then a letter format that looks professional, I think that would be a good start.” At least I should understand what consultant recognition involves before I delegate it.
“No problem,” she says. “That will keep me busy for today. And of course I’ll order some stationery.”
I reach for my wallet. “You can take this credit card for expenses.”
“Excellent,” she says. “What about medical supplies. Do we need…gloves or anything?”
“The building supplies all that. Speak to Jen. I’m going to make some phone calls.” I have no one to call. But I could research consultant recognition. And I want to scribble down some ideas that I’ve had about the cozy mystery I’ve been writing for the last decade. It’s been a while since I’ve written anything substantial. I haven’t even tried to write anything for a couple of months, but given I don’t have any patients and I seem to have a competent assistant, for the first time in a long time, I have the opportunity to throw about some ideas. With or without whiteboard pens.