He bobbed his head back and forth. “But management insists I make this an official interview. Which is why I didn't tell you about it in advance. This nonsense is stressful for everyone."
"You scared the daylights out of me," I said dryly. "Does this mean you're not going to fire me?"
"Fire you?" he scoffed. "Of course not. You're doing an excellent job. I apologise. I couldn't resist playing this up a little bit. When you get to my age, you'll take your laughs where you can get them."
I shook my head at him, but managed a smile. Any other day, I might have found it hilarious. Considering the pressure I was under, seeing the funny side was more difficult.
"Unfortunately, we still have to go through the list of things I needed to consider when making my evaluation." He rolled his eyes wearily, opened his laptop and turned it so we could both see the screen.
"As you can see, I've left positive comments for each item, along with some constructive feedback on aspects you can still continue to work on. For the record, I have areas I still need to work on myself. This is by no means a condemnation."
"I understand that," I said. "We never stop learning. There's always going to be more to know."
He was absolutely right when he mentioned I could learn more about the players’ mental health and the impact the game had on it. Especially after Jay's meltdown in Fiji.
This was an area we hadn't covered at university. Not to the extent I considered necessary, anyway. That was something we could all work on more.
"Me too," he agreed. "I've made a particular note about your relationship with the players. I have spoken to several of them about you and they all adore you. Some of them even went as far as to say they'd prefer to be treated by you." He sniffed, but his expression was playful. "Apparently I'm not cute enough."
I snorted. "You're definitely cute enough. It's their loss if they don't agree." He was adorable in that trustworthy, older man way. Like a kind uncle.
He laughed. "That's sweet of you to say, but we both know I’m far from cute. So you know, I reminded them your ability to treat them wasn't based on how you look. Some of them are still back in the dark ages. They're getting there, slowly. Some more than others. Have you had any trouble with any of them?"
"Not really," I said. Most of them wouldn't dare, given the response they'd get from my boyfriends if they tried to harass me. And for those who were familiar with Dusk Bay, from my brother. Sometimes, having a brother who could make people disappear was an asset. The threat of that alone would keep their mouth closed and their hands well away from my ass.
"They've been welcoming," I added. "Their families have as well, when I attended the family clinic. I think a lot of the wives like having a female doctor they can see if they want to."
Doctor Stuart nodded. "Of course, I'm all about women making those sorts of choices. In my day, it would have been laughed at. You know what they say, we've seen it all before. Patient comfort wasn't the consideration it is now. Fortunately, the world and medicine has come a long way from that malarkey. To be honest, that was one of the reasons I wanted you to work here. I do my best to make my patients feel comfortable, but that's not always possible."
His expression turned slightly grim. "Some of my colleagues from back in the day would have shaken their heads. They were certain they knew best and all they needed, or wanted, to do was get on with the job. Most of them have retired now, or work in administrative duties."
"Or lecture at university," I said flatly. "We had one or two of those when I was there. Doctor Chance, for one. He always seemed to mark our work harder if we were women."
I didn't mind having my work carefully scrutinised, but not because of what was between my legs. What mattered was what was in my brain.
Doctor Stuart grunted. "Ah yes, George Chance. One of my contemporaries. He was always certain men were superior to women, for some reason. Personally, I've always thought the opposite was true."
"I like to think we're equal and what's more important is how we treat each other," I said.
I didn't miss university and I certainly didn't miss Doctor Chance. He'd retire soon and the medical program would be better for it.
"Two hundred percent," Doctor Stuart agreed. "My wife would be with you on that. She's always saying people could be nicer to each other. You never know when folk might pass on." His gaze dropped and he exhaled deeply.
It didn't take a genius to know he was thinking of Bruce Fergus and Max Stanley. The team had lost a couple of basically decent men. Even though he wouldn't have hired me because of my past as a stripper, Bruce Fergus wasn't a bad person as far as I was concerned. Not really.
Coach Stanley was one of the good ones too. The team was definitely missing his absence.
"You really don't," I whispered. "Life is fragile." Especially when people went around firing guns near me, andatme.
For all I knew, I could be dead tomorrow, and all my guys with me. My heart ached at the idea. I wanted to grow old with all of them and do all the things we dreamt and planned. Maybe have children someday. With six fathers, they'd be loved. Honestly, they'd probably be spoilt rotten, but they'd grow up to be good people. How could they not with all the good role models around them?
He cleared his throat. "Very much so. Which is exactly why I'm contemplating my own retirement. Not this season, but maybe next." He turned his laptop around and closed it. "It's time I travelled with my wife and not a bunch of footballplayers." He smiled. "We don't know how much time we have left; I don't want to waste a minute of it."
"You deserve to have a rest after how hard you've worked," I said. "The team is going to miss you like crazy though. I hope we can hold the place together when you're not around anymore."
He snorted. "I'm quite sure the place won't fall apart if I leave. But it's very nice of you to suggest it might. I'll certainly feel lost when I’m not here. My wife might well send me back to work after the first week, when I get on her nerves from boredom." He steepled his fingers and placed them on the desk top.
"I'm sure she'll be thrilled to have you at home more often," I assured him. No doubt there'd be a transition period, but they'd work through it. "I'm guessing you'll be here for every home game anyway. It'll be like you never left."
