Page 146 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“She’s just a very nice woman I met that night.”

“And the two of you left together?”

“We did.”

“And did your other friends meet up with you guys later?”

“Nope.” The pop of his p was almost smug, the bastard. He wasn’t giving me anything juicy, and he knew it.

“What’s her name?” I asked. This time his laughter was rougher, uninhibited.

“I’m not telling you that, Miss Paige. And not because I have anything to hide, but because it’s not fair to my female companion with the killer pumps.”

“Female companion?” I questioned, doing a little something a judge might call leading the witness. My boss would just call it good investigating. “So, the two of you are an item?”

“No. We’re not an item. Just friends.”

“Just friends that leave clubs together at midnight?”

“Yep,” he answered, and I could hear the cocky smile in his voice. “That sounds like us.”

I couldn’t exactly fault him for not giving me the woman’s name. I mean, I was obviously calling him for an inside scoop, and it wasn’t fair if he gave me a name of someone who didn’t want her name in the media. I definitely respected that.

But still, he wasn’t exactly giving me a lot to work with.

“Anything else, Miss Paige?”

“Nope. That’s all, Doc. Thanks for your time,” I said, and before he got another word in, I ended the call.

As I stared at the empty Word document on my laptop, I knew I needed a little something more to make Scott’s big night out a Gossip-worthy story. Which meant, now that we’d put out the money for the photos, I’d have no choice but to embellish—only a little, of course.

With my fingers to the keys, I typed out the headline.

Four Women in One Night.

Is Dr. ERotic the next sex superhero?

Personal iPad in hand, I scrolled through the newest column by Harlow Paige, another brilliantly written trash piece about yours truly, and shook my head.

Honestly, I wasn’t even doing it on purpose. It was like an involuntary muscle tic triggered by reading paragraph after paragraph of pure and utter bullshit.

Four Women in One Night.

Is Dr. ERotic the next sex superhero?

As nice as the title sounded, the meat of the column was a whole lot less flattering, and a whole lot more bordering on derogatory.

I’d fucking fed her information, for shit’s sake. And still, it seemed as though she’d done nothing more than write whatever the fuck she wanted. I was the puppet master, and women’s emotions were nothing more than the objects at the end of my strings—apparently.

What she’d failed to mention was that even if I had been with the four of them at once, it would have been an informed decision by four consenting adult women who knew how not to take life so seriously.

Not only does he have a harem of women keeping him warm and cozy at night, but an inside source revealed that Dr. Erotic is always looking. Even the female patients who stroll through his ER doors might be graced with his famous flirtatious banter and charming ways right before he finds a way to ensnare them in his web of sex.

Inside source? What fucking inside source? And, yes, I might have flirted with my patients on occasion, but I never fucking slept with them. I enjoyed chatting up the opposite sex, but when it came to my job, I knew the boundaries.

And asking my patients out on dates with the intention of sleeping with them? That was a definite hard limit for me. Hell, throughout my entire career, I hadn’t ever been tempted to do something like that.

Well, besides sexy Frances who came in with that head lac a few weeks back…