Though I vowed silently to myself that I would put the handsome dentist out of my mind, I supposed there was no harm in a little fantasising. What Rowan didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him – right? I eventually gave in, and as I drifted to sleep, allowed my mind to weave elaborate fantasies where, in a perfect world, I’d go down on him in the dental chair.
Chapter Two
“Morning Max.” Becca was already behind the reception desk when I walked into the surgery the next day.
“Oh, hey. You’re here early.” I smiled, slipping my jacket off. I put my gym bag down and rolled my shoulder, glad to be rid of it.
“Yeah, I have a few bits and pieces I have to take care of before anyone finds out I forgot to do them yesterday.” She grinned sheepishly.
Why was I getting the impression that Becca wasn’t all that good at her job? I laughed. “Your secret is safe with me.”
There was a moment’s silence before the faint noise of the front door being opened echoed down the hallway.
“That’ll be Rowan,” Becca muttered, tapping something into the computer.
“This early?” I asked, surprised. I had thought to get a good head start on him this morning, hoping to regain some of the composure and professionalism I had perhaps been lacking the day before.
“Yeah, he runs an early morning practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Wednesday and Friday are his late-night appointments. Did Trisha not give you the rota?” Becca replied.
“Shit– the big red switch!” I cursed, dashing towards the door.
“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Rowan jolted as I nearly ran into him. I felt my face flush.
“Uh, hey,” I mumbled. He was looking even hotter than yesterday, which did little to temper my embarrassment.
“Morning. What’s going on?” he asked with a smile.
“No one told him today was your early morning session,” Becca replied.
“Sorry, I thought you’d already gotten a rota yesterday,” Rowan apologised.
“Here.” Becca grinned, leaning over to hand me a sheet of paper. I glanced at it briefly. Surely enough, against Dr Thompson on a Tuesday, the words ‘early morning’ were written.
“Thanks. Excuse me,” I dashed past Rowan, desperate to get out of the room as quickly as possible. Once I was alone in the dental room, I took a moment to analyse what exactly had just happened. I sighed, my heart sinking. The day hadn’t even begun, and I was already letting myself down. Sure, I wasn’t to know without a rota, but I couldn’t shake the guilt of disappointing Rowan. I took my job seriously, and whilst I was also keen to impress my sexpot of a boss, it made me feel sick to realise perhaps I wasn’t quite meeting the mark.
“Get a grip, Max. Stop fucking up,” I muttered to myself, hurriedly flicking switches.
“I wouldn’t say you’re fucking up,” a deep voice answered me in a playful tone. I cringed silently. “It’s only your second day. Mistakes happen. I fucked up too – I should have made sure you had a rota yesterday.”
I turned to face Rowan. He was leaning against the countertop, watching me. Neither of us had thought to turn the lights on; the room was dark and comfortably silent. Rowan’s eyes seemed to bore into me. I held his gaze for a moment, and he suddenly seemed to snap out of his trance and turned quickly to turn the lights on.
I looked away, busying myself with setting the room up for another day. Rowan sat at the computer and scrolled slowly though the list of patients he had booked in. The computer pinged, loud in the quiet room, indicating Rowan’s seven o’clock patient had arrived. Without a word, I left and wandered out to the reception.
“Gordon Reeves?” I asked, entering the waiting room. A fat, older gentleman stood and tucked his newspaper under his arm.
“Good morning,” he greeted me; his voice was gravelly and thick.
“How are you today, Mr. Reeves?” I asked, smiling politely.
“Not too bad, son, not too bad. What happened to Mary?” Gordon followed me through to Rowan’s room.
I chuckled to myself as the gentleman got Mandy’s name wrong. It wasn’t my place to correct him. I held the door open for him. “She’s on maternity leave. I’m Max – I’m just covering until she comes back,” I replied.
“Good morning, Gordon.” Rowan welcomed the man with a wide smile and held out his hand. Gordon shook it firmly. It seemed Rowan’s wonderful bedside manner extended to all of his clients, not just the seemingly endless array of simpering women we treated. I had never worked alongside a dentist quite like Rowan, good looks aside.
“Rowan, my man. How’s it going?” Gordon asked, sitting heavily in the dental chair.
“Not too badly, thank you. How’ve you been? Is that new bridge still doing all right?” Rowan pulled his mask up over his mouth and nose, reaching to turn the lamp on.
