Snapshots of Dr. Gordon

Chapter One.

'An Interview to Remember'

I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering once again how the hell I'd managed to get myself into this mess. I mean, I was a professional photographer, not a journalist, so why the hell was I doing Mallick's job for him?

Because he was sick, that's why.

And why was it, no matter how hard I tried, I always looked messy? I mean, I knew I didn't own any slacks or suits or whatever, but I usually looked okay when I wore what I usually wear; jeans, baggy shirt, and a jacket. Not today, though. I looked the exact opposite of what I was meant to be doing today.

"Adam, I really am sorry about this." My ex-boyfriend appeared in the doorway. Usually, he took extreme measures to make himself as neat and immaculate as possible, but today, he was wearing baggy pyjamas. He was pale, and hell, he hadn't even brushed his hair!

After glaring at my reflection for a few more moments, I turned and gave him a smirk. "Like I said before, Mallick, its fine. I really don't care." Well, yeah, actually I did, but hey, a little white lie couldn't hurt, right?

Mallick returned my snarky smile. "You've always been a shitty liar, Adam," he said, eyes glittering maliciously, "We dated for two years, remember? I know you pretty damn well."

Sick or not, Mallick could be a real smartass when he wanted to be. "Shut up," I snapped, and then sighed. "I've never interviewed anyone before."

Mallick put a hand out as though to comfort me, and then seemed to think better of it. "You'll be fine," he murmured, and then sneezed. "It really won't be very hard. This Dr. Gordon guy is apparently a real cold fish, so most of the questions I've prepared for you require only a yes or no answer. You'll be done quicker than it'd take you to hit on the hottest guy there!" I rolled my eyes at that last part. Yeah. Mallick knew me pretty damn well. And I guess it wasn't entirely overrated, either. I mean, we had been dating for two years…

I exhaled noisily and made an attempt to tidy myself up. I knew that I didn't look any different to how I usually did, but I didn't feel right somehow. I had everything ready for today, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't shitting bricks. This guy I was interviewing, a Doctor Lawrence Gordon, was a brilliant surgeon who claimed he had the cure for cancer. Mallick was the head reporter at California Publishing, so it was only natural that our firm got the story. Unfortunately, with him sick, and with his second-in-command away on holiday, I was the go-to guy for this shit, despite not having any experience in reporting whatsoever.

And it was vital that we got the scoop (well, to Mallick, anyway), because he was trying to prove to his father that, despite being openly gay, he could hold a job.

Yeah. Mr. Scott senior was a total homophobe, and a dickhead at that. I myself was just trying to make a living doing what I enjoyed most- taking photographs.

I forced a smile. "Yeah, well, if this guy is such a 'cold fish', then maybe it's a good thing I'm going and not you."

Mallick rolled his eyes at me. Once upon a time, those blue eyes of his were magical. They still were, in a way, but not in the same way. "Adam, I'm fairly sure he's straight. He has an ex-wife, and a kid. Plus, isn't he like, fifty years old?"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes at him. "Whatever. I wasn't going to hit on him, anyway. He sounds too…professional."

"Just because your standards are so low," Mallick muttered, making to retreat back into his room.

I glared. "The way I remember it, your standards were pretty damn 'low', as well."

"Shouldn't you be on the road by now?" he asked dryly, gesturing towards my watch. I glanced at my watch.

"Son of a bitch!"

I was out the door in record time. I was so panicked that I was going to be late, that I even forgot how freaking scared I was.

Yeah.

Just another day in the life of Adam Faulkner.

XxX

If I'd felt out of place before, I was practically an alien now. Saint Eustace hospital was one of the most prestigious hospitals around, and you didn't need to go inside to know that. Privately owned, only some of the richest people could even make it inside- this definitely wasn't a place for your average American. I had trouble convincing the front desk guy that I was a reporter, and even more trouble telling him I was the reporter for interviewing Lawrence Gordon.

"You just don't look the part," front desk guy said firmly. I gave him my fiercest glare. He sighed. "Look, we were expecting a Mr. Mallick Scott, who clearly isn't you, so unless you can prove you're with his company, beat it, Mister."

I crossed my arms angrily. "Look, I know I'm not dressed as well as all you people are," I hissed, "But I'm Mr. Scott's assistant. He couldn't make it today, so he asked me to fill in for him."

Front desk guy stared at me.

"Look, I have all the paperwork," I growled, picking it out of my backpack and waving it around in my agitation. The guy snatched it out of my hand, and looked it over for a few moments, his expression stunned. His mouth thinned.

"Go ahead, Mr. Faulkner," he said stiffly. "Follow the signs to Doctor Gordon's office." Then he busied himself with the mounds of paperwork in front of him. Clearly a dismissal, I stole the paperwork back, and stalked away in the general direction he'd pointed in.

But, you know what? As soon as I was out of sight of shitty front desk guy, I got lost.

Like, I hadn't the faintest idea of where I was supposed to be.

Plus, I needed to pee.

Yeah.

Not exactly the best situation I had ever been in.

And to top it off, when I checked my watch, I was late for my meeting- naturally.

"Goddamn it," I growled, and then winced- my overly full bladder. Why the hell hadn't I gone at home? Oh, wait- because I'd been late. Well, not as late as I was now, but still…

I sighed. Today was clearly not my day.

But, you know what, whatever. Mallick had definitely known that I wasn't great at this sort of thing- hell, I hadn't ever interviewed anyone before! But he'd still sent me. Yeah, his other assistant was sick as well, but…still. He'd sent me, which probably meant that he had a lot of faith in me that I kind of lacked in myself. Yeah, Mallick was my ex-boyfriend, but he was still a good friend of mine.

I wasn't about to let him down because I needed to piss, and was lost.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my jacket for what felt like the hundredth time, and straightened my back. There was no noticeable change in my appearance, but I did feel better.

Maybe even good enough to ignore my aching bladder.

Peering up at the platinum signposts that were welded into every corner, I managed to deduce that if this Lawrence Gordon guy was anywhere, he'd be up the next corridor or so. I tried plastering on a smile, like what some of the other orderlies and nurses were doing (although, if you asked me, they were as fake as fake could get), and managed a pained grimace.

Goddamn it. My bladder…

But I was already late, and I couldn't let Mallick down by missing the meeting entirely, just because I needed to pee. I could just see myself possibly losing my job over that, and I needed the money, so screw it.

A couple of hundred silvery-grey signposts later, I found myself standing outside Doctor Gordon's office. It was smaller than I imagined- then again, with everything I'd seen today, I'd been half-hoping to see a solid gold door, or some weird shit like that. Actually, the closest thing to gold on his door was a platinum plaque, reading: Doctor Lawrence Gordon, Oncologist.

So. This was the guy who'd apparently found a cure for cancer, huh?

Well, I guess it was time that I actually got to see this 'cold fishes' face.

Taking a deep breath, I rapped on his door twice, hoping against hope he wasn't like Hannibal Lecter or some shit. I didn't particularly feel like being eaten today. Plus, I still really needed to pee.

"Come in." His voice, if that was Gordon's, was soft.

Licking my suddenly dry lips, I eased the door open, and stepped into the room.

Holy…shit.