Andrea, the front desk assistant, bounces by with a pink box full of jumbo cookies, reminding me that the staff meeting is about to take place. At least Ross doesn’t make me go to those.
Ross lifts a fist over his head. “Looks like you’re getting ready to rumble,” he says, referring to the song he plays at the start of each office meeting.
“You know it, Dr. Brynn.”
Once she makes her way up to the front, Ross pins his gaze back on me. "Martin's chess coach can wait.” He breezes past me. “Please step into my office."
Irritated, I spin on one foot and follow him in. Ross takes a seat behind his desk and nods to the open doorway. "Close the door, please."
My eyes widen. "Why?"
"Ashley…" It's his standard way of reprimanding me when I'm exhausting him.She should know better than to question my superior authority,he’s thinking.
I close the door harder than necessary and spin around with my arms folded.
"Have a seat." He motions to one of the free chairs across from his desk.
Nope,that's where I’m drawing the line. I'm not his dog, and he's not going to tell me when and where to sit.No, he’ll just tell you everything else to do, and you'll roll over and do it.The words summon an image of our old, floppy goldendoodle, Shay Shay, who’s no longer with us, sadly. If the kids and I get our own place, though, we could head out to the shelter and get another furry little friend.
When I don’t take a seat, Ross pipes up anyway. “I don't want people to suspect we're bringing marital discord into the office.”
I resist an eye roll. "And why would they suspect that?"
His focus drops to the name tag on my lab coat. "For starters, you refuse to wear the office motto magnet. That shows a lack of supportanda sour spirit."
This time I give in to the eye roll. I make a show of sliding my hands into the front pockets. The right pocket holds the cheesy magnet with a broad grin, the words,Dr Brynn for the Grin,printed across the teeth. I slap it onto the empty space on my name tag, which is still fastened along the lapel.
“There, happy?"
His brow furrows as he stares at me like I’m his rebellious child. My eyes wander to the ridiculous corkboard creation Brenda and the other gals made for him. Bright bubble letters along the top spellBrynn’s Beauties.I was supposed to send a selfie to Brenda in time for them to present the gift, but I was fine not being a part of it.
Brenda understood. Ross, on the other hand, insisted I have adequate representation on the board, so he added a horrible printout of my seventh-grade yearbook photo. Forget the fact that the man has access to more recent photos of me than anyone on the planet. He went out of his way to dig up the old photo as a form of punishment. My hair is horrible, my skin is bad, and a massive set of braces makes my chapped lips bulge.
Score one for me, though, because I’m ignoring it. Lucy recently showed me a TikTok about power plays; my nonreaction to his outlandish behavior zaps the power from said behavior.So there.
"It's not just the name tag, Ashley.” His tone is far too serious for the topic. Like a therapist urging a patient to dig deep, look inward, and discover some hidden morsel of truth. “You’ve also refused to put the bumper sticker on the Camry. Why?"
Is he seriously asking this? Uh, geez, maybe it’s because I think the logo is cheesy and narcissistic. Maybe it’s because I'm not married to you anymore, so I’m no longer obligated to be your number-one fan.
I shrug."I keep forgetting to do it."
"Why don't you do it when you go to the car right now?"
"Because I'm in a hurry, Ross. And the car’s dirty. If I put it on while the car’s dirty, it won't stick."
"Please put that bumper sticker on soon. What helps me helps you. Our paychecks come from the same patients, so can we please act like a team?"
Can we please act like a teamis code forcan you please supportmein making all the decisions and stop trying to have a mind or opinion of your own?
It was a mistake to work here with Ross. I know that, but I just don't know how to fix it without major conflict or upsetting the kids.
“Also,” he adds, "when you refuse to call meDr. Brynn,I lose a certain level of…” He pauses, and his eyes search for the word like it’s on the walls someplace. I assume he’s about to sayimportancewhen he goes in a different direction.
“Respectfrom my staff, you see. Plus, your refusal to do so reminds them that we were once married, but now we’re divorced. They might assume we’re secretly feuding."
We’d be not-so-secretly feuding if I had any dignity. But because I simply go along with practically everything the man says, does, or wants, the feuds are few and far between.
"Don't you agree?"
