Treating Mr. Billionaire

TWO YEARS LATER.

          She heavily inhaled a refreshing amount of air and slowly drew them out. Her palm reached for her chest once again to feel her heat beat, hoping the breathing exercise had calmed her down; however, it did not work at all. It seemed to have worsened her palpitations. Her heart was still drumming wildly beneath her ribcage, and it felt like each time she took in air, it only aggravated her condition further. There was no time to waste so she decided to try a different approach to treating her momentary anxiety.

Like a wrestler warming up for an upcoming fight, she spread her arms above her head and started to lift her body in repeated jumping jacks. After all, exercise was one of the best ways to release tension from stress and anxiety.

She kept moving, her ponytail bouncing in motion as her heels hit the ground again and again. Her mind drifted away from her pounding heartbeat as she focused on the movements that were keeping her alive; her body's need to move.

The people passing by began to look her way as they all wondered what the lady in the white coat was doing in the middle of a hospital hall. They would have assumed she was a mentally disabled patient, but the doctor's signature coat and identity tag hanging across her neck revealed otherwise.

She observed the attracted eyes but chose to ignore them before dipping her hips in squats. After all, they probably weren't troubled by a random summoning from the chairman, and these kinds of exercises were essential before meeting with the beast.

Undoubtedly, it was a non-peculiar situation for the boss and his subordinates to engage in a one-on-one conversation at times. But the chairman was the no-nonsense type of boss. A nit-picky creature who did not tolerate any slacking off or lackadaisical behavior from his employees, and would fume with rage over the littlest mistake. Having graduated from medical school with stellar grades and set up his hospital at the age of fifty-five, he was known as an ambitious character with indomitable self-esteem, and his unrelenting standards had made him a target for everyone's ridicule.

A perfectionist with no room for error like him had her wondering the reasons he had chosen to see her first thing in the morning.

"Get your shit together, Maria," she muttered under her breath as she lifted herself into a full lunge. "I don't know what the matter is about, but I'm gonna make damn sure you don't embarrass me later today." She added, before caressing her cheeks with both hands, giving herself a pep talk.

With her mind cleared, she moved back into a standing position, nodding with renewed energy. She cleared he throat, dissolving whatsoever built up hoarseness in it before proceeding onward to the elevator that lead to the highest floor.

Her steps turned silent briefly upon reaching the floor where she was summoned, and she quickly scanned her surroundings, trying to remember which of the rooms was occupied by the chairman. She found what she sought and turned towards it, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoed throughout the hallway as she proceeded to the large wooden door that led to the chosen office.

Maria came to a halt in front of the door bearing the CEO's nameplate. For a second, she stood there, staring at the door while her hand hovered just inches from its doorknob. The door stared back into her soul, and her throat moved with a labored gulp.

A light knock was what she started with and then added two consecutive ones when no responses followed the first. The thought of the man out of the office for emergency surgery or a meeting made her lips broaden to a foolish grin.

"You're late." a familiar deep voice suddenly boomed from inside the room, disappointing her expectations. "Come in." the same voice instructed.

The last two words washed away the smile, her happiness short-lived. She sighed silently, knowing whose voice had sounded through the door.

She obliged the order, her fingers grabbing the knob and turning it swiftly. She opened the door carefully and stepped inside, closing the door behind her softly.

The office looked exactly as she remembered it, the familiar red leather sofa greeting her as she walked in. It was a very simple room, yet elegant nonetheless. The biggest remarkable entity in the room though, was the presence of the chairman himself, seated behind a huge mahogany desk.

His signature bald head was shining with oil due to the rays of the sun pouring into the room. His white shirt was crisp and clean, contrasting sharply with the dark blue tie around his neck. He was leaning forward, his elbows placed on the desk while his hands held a file of documents he was studying. A cup of Americano coffee was placed just before him, and his mouth chewed from the bite he had taken from his plate of biscotti.

Maria stood glued at the door, studying him the same way she did with her patients whenever she wanted to read through their exteriors. He had an unreadable expression, and that made it difficult for her to judge if she should find this sudden meeting alerting or relaxing.

"Good morning, professor Desmond." She greeted him with a curt bow of her head.

The man raised his eyebrows slightly, observing her for a moment before he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. "Have a seat, doctor Patterson," he said without looking up, with his voice that always sounded like someone who had seen so many things in his lifetime.

Maria nodded appreciatively and obliged, taking a seat in front of the desk. Her back leaned against the cold wood, her shoulders rising slightly as she sat down.

She watched the absorbed man concentrate on the papers he had been reading before her arrival, his eyes moving across the pages of the file, and she almost felt he had forgotten about her so soon.

"Are you willing to do your best for this hospital?" he asked after a while, breaking the silence and causing her to blink in surprise.

"Yes, sir..." She replied, her eyes darting briefly to the file before returning to his face. His question was rather weird, considering that her job description included nothing else than doing her best for the hospital, and working long hours because of the unpredictable nature of the business.

The professor remained silent once more, and Maria wondered when he would finally speak again.

"Good." he eventually conversed, "I have a proposition for you." he continued, opening the file he had been reading.

Her brows squeezed slightly at the direct offer from the upper hand. "What kind of proposal, sir?" she probed curiously.

Desmond dropped the papers, replacing them with his mug of coffee. He took a sip of the refreshing drink, and then set it aside again before lifting his eyes for the first time. He adjusted the glasses that sat on the bridge of his long nose and intertwined his fingers on the sparkling table between them before finally fixing a gaze at her.

"Doctor Patterson." he began, and that was the moment she had been waiting for. Enough of the hyperventilating and piercing silence that did nothing but taunt her. "I am not going to beat around the bush here," he said with a tone that caused her stomach to knot slightly. "We have received a very special case," he added, his gray eyes focused on hers.

Maria stared at him, her mind already beginning to race with questions. "Special case?" She queried, her tone prompting him for enlightenment.

He replied with a nod and pushed the documents he had been studying to the middle of the table, close enough to where her hands could have access to them. His head inclined slightly, inviting her to take a look at the papers.

She picked one of the documents with uncertainty and glanced over it. "These are test results," she noted after a short while of studying the contents.

"Of your patient."

She raised her eyebrows at his word choice, and her eyes darted to his face. Her memory was failing to remember any time she had referred a patient to the laboratory to carry out such specific tests. "I don't seem to remember--"

"It's a patient you're yet to meet, miss Patterson." He interrupted calmly, reframing his words for her better understanding.

Maria could still not connect the dots, but she didn't want to raise any suspicions about her ignorance. She would rather wait for him to explain everything.

"You see, he is one of our most prestigious patients, of course, every patient here is treated equally as long as the necessary conditions are sorted, but I am being specific about his social role." Desmond voiced, deciding to bring her out of the depths of ignorance.

"I see..." she drew her words faintly, watching him for signs of elaboration.

"He was admitted to this hospital for thirteen months, in a coma to be precise, and woke only a month ago," the professor continued, retrieving his drink before it became cold. "Fortunately, we were glad to discover his ability was still intact after the car accident. Regardless, he went under special therapy and treatment for two weeks following his recovery before he could remember how to walk, and move around on his own." He paused, and the silence seemed to stretch longer than expected. "And now, diagnosed with PTSD, a severe case of migraine, and a few other issues associated with an unstable state of mind." he finished, his voice trailing off to nothing as he stared into the space between them.

Her eyes darted to the file, and then back to him, unable to digest what she was hearing. He was asking her to treat a patient with multiple debilitating problems, someone she wasn't even familiar with.

She opened her mouth, and her lips pressed together tightly. It was impossible to deny the request, despite the overwhelming amount of doubts filling her mind. But if there was anything that defined her as a doctor, it was the necessity to always do her best for her patients. "So, you want me to be in charge of him?" she questioned softly, her hands shaking ever so slightly as they clutched the paper in her palms.

"Exactly," Desmond confirmed, holding out a hand to her. "But there is more than that. I wouldn't call you all the way here because a patient demands a change of doctor," he stated, his eyes observing her for any reaction.

His statement made her tense up and lean against the edge of her seat. "More?"

He heaved deeply, and a ghost smile surprising Maria curved his lips. It was a rare sight to behold, since Desmond only showed that particular emotion when he was genuinely happy, or at least amused by something. Her curiosity became even more piqued, wondering what it was that had the professor so elated.

"His family requested for a rare and special service, and would be paying the hospital a fortune," he said, his tone softening to the point that it was almost soothing.

Her brows furrowed slightly. He was back to the word 'special' once again. "A service?" she asked, and he nodded firmly.

"A Personal doctor." At last, the penny dropped.

"A personal doctor?" she echoed, her eyes widening by seconds as she sucked in the meaning behind the professor's words.