The Alphabet of Love Ch. 24

Story Info
Shiloh goes undercover and meets the clinic board.
4.8k words
4.63
3.7k
00

Part 24 of the 24 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 08/16/2017
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

I tried to put out of my mind that Derek had lied when he told Mercury that Brenda was furious about her sleeping with Killian. He'd wanted her to fear her mother's wrath. Well, that plan backfired.

Jesus, I thought, unpacking my laptop and setting it on the desk in a sitting room, I'd just met these kids. They had my whole life in a turmoil. Derek had retired to his home office to review emails and business that he needed to address at the clinic. I accessed my credentials from a cloud drive, emailing them to his secretary, Libby, who would distribute them to the board members tomorrow. I had no skeletons in my closet when it came to my career, no fear of someone unearthing a covered-up malpractice accusation or any other dirty laundry. Once I'd double-checked everything for accuracy, spelling, typos, etc. I went upstairs to plan what I would wear.

I'd met some of the board members already. They'd seen me in tailored business-appropriate attire. During my shopping spree a few days earlier I'd purchased two more expensive, well-cut dresses and shoes to match. Their simple lines and flattering styles did not hide that I was a woman, but they did serve to disguise my cleavage somewhat. That treat was now reserved only for Derek's viewing pleasure. Right now I wanted to be seen as businesslike; the time would come soon for me to wear scrubs and white coats.

I heard my phone's text message chime. Isabel, I thought. I'd slacked on calling her, she was probably wanting to know if I was still alive.

But it was a Seattle area code. The message read: "Shit, I'm sorry, Amanda got my phone."

Trevor. I'd blocked him. How in the hell had he sent this?

"Leave me alone," I texted back. If I started a conversation with him, he'd think I was interested.

"She didn't know what she was talking about," he tried.

"How many women do you have?" I couldn't resist asking. My face had reddened in anger, but I had the presence of mind to go to the door, look out in the hall for Derek or Jonas, and shut it.

"She thinks you're someone I knew in Boise."

"Whatever."

"Please don't cut me off."

"I already did. Don't bother me. I told you already."

"Are you in Seattle?" he asked me.

"No, I'm in Boston," I answered. The only reason I told him was so that he'd give up any idea of trying to see me.

"We'll be in New Hampshire next week." I could feel the eagerness in his words.

"I'll be gone."

"I can't let you marry him."

"I'm blocking you again," I typed with trembling hands. But as long as he had my phone number, I realized, he could text me from anyone's phone. I wondered if he was ballsy enough to use his wife's.

Before he could respond I blocked the number.

"There," I said, and dropped the phone into my purse, open on a chair. I still needed to get in touch with Isabel, though.

"Oh, here you are," came Derek's voice as he entered the bedroom. "Listen, I just talked with my attorney. He'd like to have a working dinner tonight. You up for that?"

"Uh," was all I could muster.

"He says if we can prove that Killian is an opiate addict we can keep Brenda from getting a share of the clinic."

"How?"

"If she's consorting with an illegal drug user she shouldn't have any claim on it," he explained.

"You think she's still going to be with him once she finds out you were telling her the truth?"

"Oh, she'll blame Mercury," he said with a nod. "Poor little Killian is just a weak man who can't resist feminine wiles. She came onto him. That's what she'll say."

"Ugh, disgusting," I made a face.

"He'd like to meet you. My attorney," he said, gazing at me. "He's curious to see the woman who's changed my life."

I laughed. "Have I?"

"Yes," he took me into his arms, "you have. And I couldn't be happier."

Yes you could, I thought as he kissed me. Your daughter could not have been seduced by her mother's creepy boyfriend. Your son couldn't be an alcoholic-in-training.

"What?" he saw the doubt in my face.

"Nothing," I shook my head. "Just thinking about your kids."

He sighed. "I wonder if it's too late for me to have any effect on them. I mean, here's Mercury, run off to god knows where with that - predator. Jonas, well, he never talks to me. All he wants to do is drink."

"Of course you can help them. They just need to know you love them. I wasn't so much different from Mercury when I was her age."

"Oh come on," he waved his hand.

"No, listen. I was smart and determined. But I also had terrible judgment about men. I wanted to think every one I met was the love of my life. I compromised myself all the time." I didn't add that I'd been doing it up until, oh, around six months ago.

"And it was because your father didn't care about you," he surmised.

"That was part of it. I think if he'd been there for me, if I'd had that strong male role model in my life, things would have been different."

He thought for a moment. "I don't have any idea where Mercury is. I've tried calling and of course she won't answer me. And Brenda won't tell me if she sees her."

"I know. But when you get a chance to talk to her, don't be judgmental. Be loving and supportive. It will mean everything to her."

"All right," he agreed, but I detected doubt in his voice.

"What time is dinner?"

"Dinner? Oh, we're meeting him at seven."

"Is Jonas heading back to school?"

He nodded. "Yeah, he's getting his stuff together now. He said he'll let me know if he hears from his sister, but they aren't that close. I don't think she'd call him."

"That's a shame."

He shrugged. "I failed them all the way around."

"Derek -"

"No, you're right. I did."

I wriggled my way against him, my arms around his waist. "I love you. You're doing what you can now, and that's what matters."

"I hope so."

That evening, we ventured out into the wintry streets to meet his attorney. Snow sparkled in the city lights. The hotel restaurant featured glass partitions and glistening lights everywhere. If you looked at it long enough, you'd get dizzy and disoriented.

I concentrated on the menu.

Barton Kinsley, Attorney-at-Law, gripped my hand firmly when Derek introduced us. The two of them appeared near the same age and their conversation hinted that they were friends apart from the legal relationship they had. After drinks arrived and we'd ordered, Barton plonked a briefcase onto the table and drew out an iPad and a sheaf of papers.

"This is where we're at," he said, moving his dinnerware aside. "Brenda's attorney is caving to everything I ask. I think she's afraid to risk what she already got from you. We can probably wrap this up in a few days. Then, of course, it goes to the court and the final decree happens in around sixty days."

"Good," Derek nodded. "I want to get her out of the clinic. Altogether. Are we going to be able to do that?"

"Possibly. Do you know this Killian's last name, any background on him?"

"No," Derek shook his head.

"It's Randall," I spoke up.

"How do you know that?" Derek asked sharply.

I shrugged. "I looked at Mercury's Facebook. He's on there. It has a little information on him, you can see places he checked in. Looks like there's a coffee shop he frequents. If you hang around there you might see him."

The men looked at each other.

Barton pointed at me. "You should go there. He wouldn't know you."

I laughed. "And do what? If he brings Mercury, she knows me."

"That's not a half bad idea," Derek nodded.

"It stinks!" I asserted. "What would I do? Confront him?"

"No, you follow him," Barton said.

"Not if he's with her," I reminded him. "Besides, I'm going back to Seattle in a couple of days. There won't be time."

"I can push the board meeting until tomorrow afternoon," Derek said.

"No," I shook my head firmly. "That's far more important to me."

Barton and Derek looked at each other again.

"No," I repeated. "I don't know my way around. I don't even know how to get to this place."

"Do you have an address? GPS," Barton smiled.

"Taxi drivers know where everything is," Derek put in.

Somehow I knew I wasn't getting out of this.

My only hope the next morning, as I skulked into Coffee Comrades, was that Killian wouldn't show and I could get the hell out of there. Jesus, what was this place? I scanned the coffee menu; all the drinks had communist-oriented names. Cold War Cappuccino. Lenin Latte. The décor featured several large Soviet flags and portraits of everyone from Stalin to Castro. Egads. I'd probably end up on a State Department watch list for just stepping foot into the place.

I ordered a Brezhnev Brulee with two extra shots. Too bad they couldn't give me a jigger of vodka to make it more authentic.

With the few clothes I'd brought to Boston I tried to put together a Bohemian, hippie ensemble. Perhaps looking so disheveled might keep Mercury from recognizing me, at least at first glance. I'd suggested to Barton that he look up Killian Randall's criminal record, and check the state pharmacy board to see if he'd been filling multiple opiate prescriptions. He might just be going to a lot of doctors, or even forging scripts. If that was the case, Derek's problems were over. He'd get arrested, and it would be far easier to get Brenda removed as a part-owner in the clinic.

I sat facing the entrance, pretending to be another drone engaged in my phone. People came and went; mostly youngish hipsters, a few fresh-faced college kids thinking that their purchases were going to fund the Communist Party of Massachusetts, who'd left flyers on each table. I had every confidence that the owner of this joint was a big fat capitalist all the way.

I'd scrolled through the photos on Killian's Facebook so that I'd be sure to recognize him. A couple of times I thought I saw him, but some feature proved me wrong. He'd be dark-haired, rather broody-looking, with little sneaky dark eyes and a twisted smile. Or perhaps that was just me demonizing him. I rather hoped he wouldn't show up at all. I'd told Derek I was leaving at ten no matter what, because I wanted to be sure to look my best for the board. I'd already instructed the taxi to be back here then, so confident was I that Killian would be a no-show.

A couple came in, both wearing stocking hats and bulky coats, their boots and jeans dirty. I glanced up at them and then did a double-take. The guy pulled off his hat and I knew. It was Killian.

But the woman with him was not Mercury or Brenda.

She was a blonde, taller than he was, with long, slender legs and an oversized smile. He stood behind her while they ordered, his arms around her waist, his hands who-knew-where under her coat. Well. Wasn't this interesting. Both Brenda and Mercury were being duped by yet a third woman. Who knew how many there were?

I texted Derek.

He wasn't surprised that there was a third woman. I supposed I shouldn't be, either. A guy like that probably lied his way through dozens of gullible women. Derek wanted me to stay there and see if I could overhear any of their conversation, which surprisingly I could, since they'd seated themselves at the table next to me.

I pretended not to notice them, keeping myself occupied with my phone and my drink.

After a few minutes, the blonde got up to go to the restroom and I saw Killian shift in his chair to look at me. I didn't move.

"Hey there, beautiful," he said in a flirty voice.

I pretended not to notice at first, then I looked over at him. "Are you talking to me?"

He nodded. "I sure am. How are you this morning?"

"I'm fine, thank you," I said politely, avoiding his eyes. Even though there was no way he knew who I was, I feared somehow he might figure it out.

"I haven't seen you here before."

"I usually come later in the afternoon," I said lamely.

He didn't speak for a moment. "I might have to start coming later in the afternoon," he smiled.

Wow, I thought, that was lame.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

"Uh, Isabel," I pulled my best friend's name out of my brain.

"You're a beautiful woman, Isabel."

I pointed toward the restroom. "Didn't I see you come in with someone?"

He nodded. "Sure. But it's nothing serious."

"Always on the lookout for something better, I suppose," I quipped sarcastically.

"I just can't ignore a beautiful woman," he said.

Did these pathetic lines really work for him?

"I'm sorry, I'm engaged," I held up my left hand for him to see.

"That doesn't matter to me," he said easily. "I don't believe in those sorts of commitments."

"Well, I do."

The blonde emerged from the restroom. She sat across from him and looked over at me curiously.

"Tina, this is Isabel," he told her.

"Hello," Tina said with an open smile.

"Hello," I returned. God the guy was ballsy.

"I think we'll have to leave," Tina told him. "I'm really nauseated. The doctor said if it got bad I should take some ginger."

I'd returned to my phone but of course I had one ear open. Nausea? Doctor?

Killian lowered his voice and leaned toward her. "We just got here. I'm not leaving."

"But I really don't feel well. Give it a few weeks, it'll be better. I'm sorry."

Oh shit. She was pregnant.

"If you feel sick, just go in there," he waved toward the restroom.

What a dick!

Timidly, she agreed.

I began furiously texting Derek.

His response: "Barton found drug convictions on his record."

I inwardly cheered. This guy was such a douche, I hope he rotted in jail for years.

Next to me, Killian and Tina's voices had dropped even lower, but I made out a few words here and there. One of them was 'abortion.' Tina started to cry. Killian got up and walked out of the coffee shop.

"He just left," I texted Derek. "I don't have to follow him, do I?"

"No, it looks like we've got him, that should be enough to convince the judge to deny Brenda ownership in the clinic."

"Good, I'm coming home then."

Before I left, I gave Tina a hug and some cash, and told her to dump 'that guy.'

"What do you mean, he flirted with you?" Derek wanted to know.

We were in his Jaguar on our way to Boston Nephrology.

"As soon as the girl went to the restroom he starts talking to me. Calling me beautiful."

"Slimeball," he muttered. "But I want to know where Mercury is."

"Don't you suppose she went back to Bennington?"

"I hope so. If she keeps blowing off classes she'll get kicked out."

"Is there some way you can check?"

He nodded. "I'll call as soon as we get to my office."

"Good. Tell me one thing now. Dr. Bailey isn't on the board, is she?"

"No," he said with a laugh. "But that doesn't mean you'll get off easy. I told them to vet you just like they would anyone."

"Oh, thanks. You get me here with promises of making me co-owner, all these opportunities and better pay, and then you throw me to the dogs."

"Shiloh, you can stand up to any scrutiny."

I sighed. "I hope so. I know, you want them to assure themselves that this isn't all because I put some sort of spell on you to weasel my way in. You want to prove that I'm qualified to be here even if I am going to be your wife."

"Exactly. So don't be offended by any of their questions. But just know that I'm not going to bail you out, either. You'll be speaking for yourself."

I'd done this sort of thing before. I was good at it. Still, the imagery of being thrown into a pit of vipers kept coming to mind.

While he called Bennington College, I checked my makeup and sifted through my notes. I'd make a statement about myself, my education and experience, and then open up the floor to questions I reminded myself that it would all be over in an hour or so. I hoped.

"She's there," he said, hanging up the phone. "Got in late last night. She's on reprimand, though, for missing some classes and not checking in."

"That's a relief. Now you know where she is, and it's not with that asshole."

"Yeah, he becomes a bigger asshole all the time," he said, leaning back in his chair. "He's got some girl knocked up and wants her to have an abortion. It makes me shiver to think that it could be Mercury in that position."

"So what happens when Brenda finds out you're going to try to keep her from part ownership here, and that it's because of him?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. She may think she's getting enough out of me. The thing she really wants is that shitty gallery. It'll be shut down in six months once we're divorced. She has no idea how to run a business. But she'll still have her stipend from me every month, so she can't bitch."

On the desk, his cell phone lit up with a call. I saw "Barton" on the screen.

"Wonder what he wants," Derek said, picking it up. He listened for a few moments, grunted a couple of times, then put the phone down. He turned to me with a grin.

"What?" I asked.

"Guess who else has a drug conviction?"

I shook my head.

"My esteemed soon-to-be ex-wife."

"What! How could you not have known about that?"

"It happened in New York. Apparently she got off with a fine since it was a first offense. But it was for possession of opiates without a prescription."

"Think she got them for Killian?"

"Probably," he said, unable to stop smiling. "And it was recent, too, Four months ago, she was convicted and fined. No wonder she's been after me for more money."

"Well," I breathed out slowly. "Then you've got her dead to rights. The judge won't have a problem giving you complete ownership of the clinic now."

"I know."

This was indeed good news, for I'd harbored some qualms about working here and having Brenda as a person who had some sway over me. Now that fear was erased. All I had to do was make nice to the board.

We entered the meeting room half an hour later. We'd agreed not to hold hands or show any affection toward each other. Purely professional. I didn't even sit next to Derek.

He introduced me, then went around the table so that each board member could introduce him or herself. There were seven of them. Three doctors, two patients, a human resources person, and one of the corporation's attorneys.

I began by giving a short biography of myself, and detailed my education, residency, and work. Any of them should have already learned all this from the credentials I'd submitted. I then took a large, deep breath and said I would be happy to answer any questions they might have for me.

As I'd expected, the first queries had to do with my relationship with Derek. I explained that while we were engaged to be married, I had every qualification to be a physician here. I challenged them to investigate the work I'd done in Seattle, to contact my former employers. I downplayed my lack of business experience, and emphasized my willingness to work cooperatively with each person on staff, respecting their expertise as instrumental to successful patient outcomes.

They wanted to know if I planned to take on individual patients, or if I'd play more of an administrative role. I answered that I was interested in the home hemodialysis program and in assisting with the EPS patients, and that I would work in whatever way I could in those capacities. I didn't rule out taking on patients for myself, but the fact was I hoped to become pregnant as soon as possible after Derek and I got married. I didn't want to start relationships with patients and then have to leave them for an indeterminate amount of time.

But I didn't say that.

It surprised me that there weren't more questions, and that the ones put to me had been relatively mild. Either they accepted that I was well-suited to be here, or they believed it would happen with or without their approval. Because, in actuality, the way the corporation had been formed, Derek had the power to choose anyone he wanted to share ownership. The board could only make recommendations or voice its concerns. He wanted their approval, of course, because without it morale would suffer and in-house drama would become unbearable.

12