Page 8 of Finding My Bodyguard

“Who you trying to convince?”

Her eyes bulged, and I could see the moment she put up her defensive walls.

“I don’t have to convince you. You’re getting paid to operate.” She snapped as she pulled herself off my chest. Her attitude was cute. She thought she was in control. She wasn’t. It didn’t matter what she said. When I sent Samara out of the room, I’d already decided I wasn’t going to operate on her. I had the right to reject patients I didn’t deem mentally stable. Ms. Iris wasn’t crazy, but I could tell she wasn’t getting cosmetic surgery for the right reasons.

“You do, though.” I removed my gloves and moved over to the sink to wash my hands.

“What are you doing? Are you leaving?”

I nodded. I wanted to say more to her, but I rejected the urge. Everything I wanted to say was unprofessional, and the last thing I needed was a lawsuit.

“No, you don’t understand… I have to get this done. I came all this way, and my wedding is in three months.” The mention of her wedding had me turning to face her. A light bulb went off in my head that caused the veins in my forehead to throb. She was doing this to please her wack ass fiancé. She was a stranger. I didn’t know anything about her that wasn’t in my charts but knowing she felt the need to change her body to make another nigga happy had me pissed.

“Are you doing this for that nigga?” I barked, causing her to jump where she stood before her head dropped again.

“It’s complicated,” she mumbled.

“I’m not approving you for surgery. Your body is perfect.” I walked away from her. I needed to tread lightly because she was still a patient.

“No wait, you don’t understand. I have to get this surgery.” She was trailing behind me. Her soft voice weakened me and had me turning around to face her. She was beautiful, and I couldn’t deny my attraction to her. I would be lying if I said my attraction wasn’t playing a huge part in my decision not to do her surgery because it was.

“Changing your body for that nigga won’t make him love or respect you any more than he does now.” It was the truth. A lot of women went under the knife to appease a man. They used surgery to try and make him stay or make him happy. I’d had dozens of them come through my office, but Monroe Iris, my chocolate dream, I couldn’t allow her to make this mistake. She deserved better. She stared at me for a moment. Her eyes were on me, but I could tell she was thinking.

“I… I… he… I can’t leave Miami without getting my body done. We can pay you double,” she offered. There was no amount of money she could throw at me to make me concede. I shook my head.

“Get somebody else to do it. I’m not taking part in you changing your body for a nigga that cheats on you to your face.” The look on her face let me know that referencing what I’d witnessed at the club last night was too much for her. I wasn’t the type to sugarcoat things for people’s feelings. I was blunt, but hurting Monroe’s feelings made me instantly feel bad.

“This is unprofessional… and stupid. We’ve already paid you.”

“I’ll process a refund. You have my answer, Ms. Iris. This appointment is over.” I’d already been here way too long and said way more than I should. Without looking back, I walked out of the room. She was a stranger. Plastic surgery wasn’t my decision to make for her. It was her body, her choice. I just couldn’t be the one to do it.

“What was that?” Samara’s voice shook me from my thoughts as soon as I stepped in the hallway.

“Mind your business, Samara,” I shot back as I pushed past her. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t feel like explaining myself to my little sister.

“This is my business, Ro. I work here!” Samara snapped as she followed behind me. I knew her nosy ass wasn’t going to go away. This was the first time I had sent Samara out of the room without explanation. I stared at my sister. I could have thought of a lie, but I didn’t lie, not even about small shit like this.

“I wanted to speak with Ms. Iris alone. She seemed a bit uncomfortable.” It was a half-truth, but it wasn’t a lie. Samara stared up at me. Her narrowed eyes told me she didn’t believe me.

“Unh huh, I’ll let you have it ’cause I’m on lunch break, and it’s not like you give us a lot of time to eat anyway.” She pointed her finger at me. “This not over, brother.” She trotted off down the hall toward the break room.

“It is, and you can always go work for Dad!” I shouted behind her.

“I will when you do.” She shot back, flipping me the middle finger before disappearing into the break room. I could hear Rebecca laughing as I approached the front desk. She always got a kick out of me and Samara’s back and forth. Everyone here respected me as their boss, but to Samara I was just her big brother. She stayed pressing my buttons, and I stayed on her nerves. It was our dynamic, and I wouldn’t change anything about it—not even her working here. It made me proud that I was able to give her a chance to live a normal life free of the cartel.

If I had taken my birthplace as Capo, Samara would have been alongside me as my logistics manager, laundering money and trafficking drugs. When I became a doctor, she followed in my footsteps and went to school to be a nurse. I was setting the tone for a new family legacy, and that was my motivation.

“You two crack me up. You know that?” Rebecca giggled just as Monroe’s patient room door flew open. The sound of the door crashing into the wall caused everyone to stop and look.

“Take Ms. Iris off the schedule. She didn’t pass mental clearance.” I informed Rebecca just as Monroe walked out of the room. Her quick steps made it obvious that she was angry. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a chocolate girl flush red before, but as she neared the exit, the red hue in her skin glowed brighter. I couldn’t help but stare at her. Even angry she was perfection. Her hard steps gave her fat ass just the right amount of jiggle.

“Should I make her eligible for rebooking?” Rebeca questioned, pulling my eyes away from Monroe.

“No,” I confirmed just as she approached the front desk. Her eyes landed on me briskly before she rolled them and cut them away, returning her attention to Rebecca.

“Hello, um do you remember the guy who I came here with? My fiancé. He was waiting over there.” She pointed to an empty seat in the waiting room.

“Yes,” Rebecca replied.