Emma

Coach Thomas said that he was worried about Sebastian for next season, and he wanted me to do some tests to get him up to scratch over the summer. The last doctor did a half-ass job and players were dropping like flies because he wasn’t revealing the extent of their injuries.

He spent most of his time boozing and it had taken the club the whole season to figure this out. It was completely unethical. There was so much political maneuvering and backhanding in medicine that no one wanted to rat him out. I thought that it had been bad in the hospital! I suppose I was naive to think that it would be any different in the sporting industry. Maybe being a sports doctor wasn’t such a good idea, but I had no choice: I needed the money.

I was hired last week, and my first assignment was to get their all-star quarterback player back on the field for the whole season. Everyone was cheering for me to get in the damn pool.

“Sebastian, it’s me.”

Then this blue-eyed guy with really tight swimmers on said, “Shit, did I hire you before?”

Really?

Were the only women that come here strippers? I looked at the other end of the pool, and there were a couple of naked gals, so I figured that answered the question.

I wasn’t a fucking stripper. I was a doctor, and I came here to talk to him about coming to see me. I don’t do personal visits, but he hadn’t picked up his cell or house phone either. The only times it had been picked up was by his housekeeper, who had a tendency to tell me that it would be easier to visit him and then she would hang up the phone.

“Yes!” I replied in frustration.

“No!” I countered, realizing my mistake.

I realized that I was trying to reason with people that were half-naked. Or—in the case of the girls at the other side of the pool—completely naked. Even Sebastian’s eyes were half-open; I wondered how much he’d had to drink.

“Which one is it?” Blue-eyes asked as if he was trying to figure out if I’d been hired as their stripper or not.

God, what was his name again?

I’d met him when I was introduced to the team, but I’m crap at names. Faces: brilliant, but names: crap. When I had to consult with a patient—and due to cutbacks in my previous hospital, I was dealing with more and more patients every day—I could always tell what they were in for just by looking at them and matching their faces to their conditions.

“Look, I came here to give Sebastian a once-over.”

That had so been the wrong thing to say.

“Sure, we know, but it looks like Sebastian wants to get straight into the action. So, if you move it along. I’ll give you double.”

“I’m not a stripper.”

“You should be,” one of the girls shouted over. “Especially with those breasts. Did you pay for them or are they natural?”

Everyone tilted their heads to the side as I stood by the side of the pool.

“They bounced as she came in here. I say natural.”

The other girl blurted, “Nah, she paid for those. Just like me; was it Doctor Xin who did them?”

I looked down. No one had ever commented on my tits. Sure, I knew that they weren’t small, but what did she mean by “they bounced”? No one had ever asked me if they were natural or not. Of course they were natural.

Then the blue-eyed guy came over and said, “They can’t be; they’re just fucking huge!”

So, I did what any girl would do when she’s been completely insulted: I slapped him. I didn’t care if he was some big-time player or not, he was out of order. I had a feeling that if I hadn’t done that, then the next thing he would have tried do was touch them.

“I came here to tell Sebastian about his doctor’s appointment. We need to schedule it in, before the next season.”

I dug in my pocket and handed the blue-eyed guy a card. I didn’t wait for anyone else to comment. I didn’t wait for Sebastian to figure out how to coordinate his hands and legs to get out of the pool. He had tried twice and failed miserably, laughing both times.

“Shit, that’s right she’s the new doctor.” the blue-eyed guy said as I started to walk away.

One of the girls said, “See? Her butt bounces the same way. Definitely Doctor Xin.”

I ran to the car, thinking that as soon as I got home. I needed to walk in front of the mirror. How did I walk to make her think that both my prized assets were false? I shook my head at my paranoia, and as I drove out, I saw the real stripper, and I shouted out, “Good luck, you’re gonna need it!”