A Brush with Love(22)

Harper wore an expressionless mask. Dan couldn’t look away. He wished he had popcorn. She was good.

“So, Mr. Owen, my womanly hands are the best to handle the fragility of your neglected tooth. It will likely pop right out.” She made a loud popping noise that made both men jump.

“You see, you aren’t special, Mr. Owen. You’re one of the least exciting cases I have, compared to something like an orthognathic surgery or trauma intervention.”

She paused again and gave him a beaming smile. Both Dan and Mr. Owen gaped at her.

“But,” she continued, unfazed by the shock bouncing between the men, “as this was supposed to be a fast procedure, I have another patient scheduled in half an hour. Since we have wasted so much time arguing, I’m going to have to dismiss you as a noncompliant patient. I hope you have a great day.”

Harper pushed away from the counter and moved toward the door.

Mr. Owen’s mouth flapped open and closed like a dying fish. “Get me your supervisor!” he croaked.

Dan bit back a laugh at the crack in Mr. Owen’s voice.

“Gladly,” Harper said, barely turning her head over her shoulder. “I’ll send Dr. Ren in to speak with you. Dan, could I have a word in the hall?”

Dan followed her out, wanting to prop her up on his shoulder and carry her around the clinic for a victory lap. But as soon as the door clicked behind them, Harper turned on him.

Slight cracks showed in her calm composure. Anger heated her cheeks and her dark eyes were sharp and alert. He felt his own temper rise at the fact that the idiot had hurt her, and he prepared to apologize on the man’s behalf.

“Harp—”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her voice was harsher than he expected.

“W-what?”

“What was all that about? You were two seconds from exploding in there and the last thing I needed was another hotheaded man to deal with.”

Dan’s head jerked back. “What?” he repeated, totally lost. “That guy is an asshole! And I wanted to tell him. He can’t talk to you like that. Especially because you’re a woman.”

Harper closed her eyes slowly, as though counting to ten, and let out a deep breath. Her coffee-black eyes flashed open and locked onto his.

“Dan, I appreciate you wanting to defend me, I really do. But you swooping in to save the day only works to discredit me further.”

“What? How?”

She licked her lips and sucked the bottom one between her teeth. “Men like him are a losing battle. They’re set in this archaic mindset that no amount of yelling or brute force can reason with. He looks at me and sees a small girl playing make-believe as a doctor. Men like him”—she pointed at the door—“decide from the moment women like me walk into the room, that we’re a threat to their outdated thinking and need to be put in our place. If I raged and yelled, it would solidify in his mind that women are too emotional to be taken seriously. Having someone like you fight my battles? It’s almost worse. It’s showing that I can’t handle myself. It’s like I’m a damsel in distress, and you’re the gorgeous hero who waltzes in to save the day and pull out the stupid tooth. It invalidates me even further in his eyes.”

“So you just pick and choose your battles? Even though that guy is completely off base and has no right to treat you like that?”

“It isn’t picking and choosing battles. It’s knowing how to fight them.”

“Has stuff like this happened before?” His brows furrowed even further. Harper looked at him like he was an innocent kitten.

“This happens all the time. Many men don’t trust women to work on them. They don’t believe we’re capable of skilled clinical work. Hell, many male faculty members have the same belief.”

“But that’s … stupid,” he said.

A warm smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I agree, but you going ham on some crotchety man won’t change centuries of chauvinism.”

She raised her hand, moving it like she was about to stroke his cheek, causing his skin to buzz in anticipation as it hovered between them. He saw the moment she became aware of the gesture and dropped it heavily to her side.

“You wait here,” she said. “I need to get Dr. Ren.” Dan nodded and watched her retreat down the hall.

He leaned against the wall, letting his head drop back with a thud. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned quietly. Dammit, feelings are exhausting.

After a few minutes, Harper reappeared at the end of the hall, a tall, wiry woman walking with her.

“Dan, this is Dr. Ren, chair of the OMFS clinic,” Harper said when the women stopped at the door.

Dan shook the intimidating woman’s hand, her height allowing her to look down her angular nose at him. Her clothes were clean and tailored under the crisp lines of her white doctor’s coat. Everything about her was sharp.

Without a word, Dr. Ren rapped on the door, then entered.

Mr. Owen stewed in the chair, his face purple. Seeing that Harper’s direct supervisor was a woman, he shook his head and let out a grunt.

“Great,” he growled. “Another one. Is there a gentleman I can speak to?”

Dr. Ren’s eyes narrowed. “No. And hello to you as well. I’ve heard you are noncompliant with the surgery, yet unwilling to leave.” Her voice chilled the room. Even Mr. Owen cowed a bit.