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ChapterFive
Sebastian
Icannot remember the last time I was this furious. My mood was ruined for the rest of the day as I was unable to get the words of Miss Donovan out of my head. No one has dared to speak to me like that in my entire forty-two years of life. I shake my head as I twirl my pen in deep thought.
How dare she make such a stupid assumption? I damn well spend more than an hour with my child and understand her well enough to gauge whether or not she's autistic, right?
I think harder about it, bringing up past events I'd found strange and others that were downright weird. I had noticed that Callie was obsessed with drawing and having things go in a certain way. Like how she had to have her backpack and school supplies all in the same color. I just thought blue was her favorite color. When she would get upset, I assumed she was just being a child and throwing tantrums.
It wasn't unnatural for a child, especially one who had just turned 9, to act a little stubborn, was it? Was that woman right? That I wasn't paying close enough attention to Callie to know what she was truly dealing with?
I understand how completely inappropriate the woman's words were and that I could have her out of a job in the blink of an eye if I wish. But in the past month, Callie has spoken very highly of her. If she was indeed right, her sudden absence from Callie’s life, even in a professional capacity, would leave Callie very upset.
I pick up my phone and press it against my ear.
“Get in here,” I command the moment my assistant, Sam, picks up. A moment later, there is a knock on the door while I call out for him to enter.
Sam steps into the room with wide eyes, pen and pad already in hand. I turn away from him to face the window for a moment, where the view from high up always calms me.
“I want you to find the best hospital in Manhattan and get the best doctor on the line for me in two hours.” I quietly instruct, eyes still looking out the window.
“I'll do that, Mr. Vaughn,” Sam says, and a moment later lets himself out.
I get to work, deciding to shelve the altercation with Miss Donovan for later. I'm not yet sure what I want to do about her outbursts and insults. I will surely get her for that. First, I need to be sure that I am not in the wrong. Even though a little part of my brain has begun to note the patterns in Callie's life more clearly. Even though it does sometimes feel like Callie is acting a little out of character, I am not going to completely take her teacher's word for it.
Less than an hour later, Sam gives a light knock and invites himself in.
"Mr. Vaughn," he says, looking a little excited.
I motion for him to continue.
“I scoured the internet for the best hospital in Manhattan and found one up town. There are hundreds of specialists and an appointment can be booked where you have complete privacy. No one will know that you have visited because it will just be you and the doctor.” Sam explains, looking a little proud of himself.
I give him a nod of approval.
“That's nice to hear. Book me in for tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Sam mutters, bringing a hand to his head to scratch it. “The hospital is booked from now until the weekend. But I will have the receptionist pencil you in—"
“Pencil me in?” I question in a low deadly tone.
Sam stutters something unintelligent and shifts uncomfortably.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Vaughn, I thought—"
“That I can be penciled in?”
Sam looks down, avoiding my eyes completely. I know damn well that I am being a total ass but can't help myself. That one teacher had managed to ruin my entire day, and Sam, unfortunately, has to bear the brunt of my sour mood.
“You will get out of my office this instant and ensure that my daughter and I are booked to see the doctor by 10 a.m. tomorrow. Pull all the strings you can to make that happen, and maybe you might just get to keep your job.”
Sam nods and scurries out of the office.
* * *
The next morning, I am dressed and waiting in the living room for Callie. I am a little nervous and wondering what the day will bring for us. Our appointment is in an hour. As simply as I could, I had taken time to explain to Callie that she needed to be tested. Thankfully, she didn’t ask a lot of questions because I would not have known how to answer them.
A minute later, Callie steps down the stairs. She is dressed up in a patterned long-sleeved top and flared skirt. Her blonde hair is up in a ponytail, and she looks so much like Charlotte, it physically hurts.
