Playing Doctor

Chapter One

Today's Objectives:

Laundry (just the whites)

Alphabetize the canned foods in Mena's pantry

Avoid any calls from Kevin

Find a job

Glancing around the bookstore, I debated the wisdom in flipping through a book called Strip Style: A Guide for Aspiring Exotic Dancers while I waited for my interview. But no one was close by and curiosity got the better of me, so I opened it.

Chapter Six: Proper Pastie Placement.

My cheeks flushed as I studied the diagrams. Amazing-there seemed to be a science to applying mammary decoration. I wondered how effective the adhesive would be if you had to readjust your application. I imagined you wouldn't want a pastie malfunction during your act.

Someone tapped me on my shoulder. "Excuse me, miss. Are you Daphne?"

I turned to find a short, paunchy man frowning at me. Before I could remove my hand from the book, he glanced down and saw what I was browsing through.

Oh no. I felt my face burn even hotter. Not the best way to meet your future boss. Since it was better to appear in control than to stand at his mercy, I cleared my throat and snapped the book shut. "Yes, I'm Daphne Donovan."

Eyes wide, he cleared his throat too. "Well, I'm Len Delgado, the manager here. If you'll follow me."

Clutching my portfolio against my chest, I let him lead me to a closet of a room in the back of the bookstore. My stomach churned with each step. I tried to tell myself to calm down, that I'd be able to pull this off, but each clack of my shoes on the linoleum echoed the doubts I was trying to suppress.

I needed this job. Had I hurt my chances with the stripper incident? The thought of failing made my stomach clench tighter.

He sat down behind an obscenely cluttered desk and pointed me toward a chair facing him. The desk was even worse than my sister Mena's before I cleaned it for her, and the chaos made me feel more unsettled. I perched on the chair's edge and gripped the portfolio, fighting the impulse to straighten things up.

My purse fluttered, startling me. It took me a moment to realize my cell phone was vibrating. Probably Kevin. Again. I set the purse on the floor next to my leg and ignored it.

Mr. Delgado cleared his throat again. "You seem to have, uh, eclectic reading tastes."

Remembering the pictures of different types of pasties, I fought a blush. "I like diversity."

He didn't seem to be any less embarrassed. "What else do you enjoy reading?"

"Well, I recently read a fascinating article on the effects of aging on hormone production. As men age, testosterone levels lower due to decreased pituitary and hypothalamus function." On familiar ground, my stomach eased, which caused my entire body to relax. Maybe I could pull this off after all. I smiled and leaned forward as I warmed to my subject. "Which is what causes erectile problems. And they believe it could be related to genetics."

"Uh-" Mr. Delgado shifted uncomfortably in his chair "- interesting."

"I thought so." I studied him critically, wondering if he had erectile dysfunctions or if his chair was simply uncomfortable. Either way, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I straightened the container of pens on his desk and sat back with a polite smile.

"Anything else you've read that you'd recommend? In fiction. Our customers often ask for recommendations."

"Fiction?" The last piece of fiction I read was my first year in college, when I was fourteen, but it was better than nothing. "I enjoyed The Awakening."