Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Dirty Doctor.

MANHATTAN MERCEDES

I blushed as I reread #Doctor S' most recent messages the next day. Then had to roll my eyes at myself regarding his offer to send me a picture of his dick...I'd almost said yes.

Why didn't I say yes?

I'll have to think about that another time. Right now I had an emergency meeting and a date to get through first.

Smiling, I decided I would deal with him later today.

As my cab pulled up to the curb of Manhattan Medical, I handed the driver a ten-dollar bill and pulled the hood of my raincoat over my head.

Then I rushed across the sidewalk and the emergency turnaround, excited about what today's sudden meeting with the chief meant for my career.

All this week, I couldn't help but overhear my peers gushing about how the chief was offering additional bonus packages to certain interns and residents.

And as hard as I worked, I knew I was definitely deserving of one of them, too.

Taking the elevator up to the top floor, I took a deep breath and knocked on the chief's door.

"Come in, come in!" he said, his voice calm and welcoming, as always.

"Good morning, Chief Baxter."

"Good morning, Dr. Jones." He smiled. "Thank you for coming in to meet with me on your day off. And on such short notice."

"My pleasure, sir."

He motioned for me to take a seat, and I tried my best not to look too excited.

But all I was saying inside my head was, 'Yes, I will happily accept the thousand-dollar bonus. Yes, I will happily accept the thousand-dollar bonus.'

On repeat.

"Dr. Jones, I called you in here today because I have some good news and some bad news." His sudden shift in tone caught me off guard. "Which one do you want first?"

"The good news."

"Alright. Well, the good news is that you are a phenomenal intern, and I do mean phenomenal. Your professionalism, punctuality and enthusiasm for our patients here are among some of the best I've ever seen. You've demonstrated a high proficiency for diagnosis and I have no doubt that you'll make a phenomenal doctor in your desired specialty...after you complete your residency."

"I appreciate the compliments, Chief Baxter." I started to say the words "Thank you," but I hesitated. I needed to hear the bad news first.

Chief Baxter went on...

"The bad news is..." He took off his reading glasses and ran his hand through his grey hair. "...unfortunately, we have to rescind our offer for you to join our residency program here."

"What?"

"We accidentally accepted ten too many applicants for our budget, so we decided to randomly draw names to choose which offers we have to rescind. Seven was your number. I'm sorry."

I bit my tongue, preventing myself from screaming these offending words,

"What. The. Fuck!"

This was my future he was talking about, and he was sitting there cleaning his eyeglasses, acting as if this conversation was about something as simple as a new uniform policy.

As if I hadn't already planned the next few years of my life around completing a residency here at Manhattan Medical.

"Dr. Jones, I completely understand that this timing may be terrible..."

"Terrible? It's only weeks from when I'm due to start." I seethed. "This has to be illegal."

"I assure you, no. But letting ten extra people start working when we can't afford to pay them?" He actually had the nerve to smile. "Now, that would be illegal."

I glared him.

"Okay, that was a bad joke. I'm sorry." He shook his head. "Anyway, although we'll be unable to have you on staff here for our current term, our Human Resources Department worked overtime over the past few months, to call every hospital in the state to help us figure out a solution to our embarrassing dilemma."

He pulled out a folder and flipped through the pages.

"We sent over your board scores, your attendance record and of course, recommendation letters from every doctor who was impressed with your work on rotations."

Smiling, he slid the folder across the desk to me, but I didn't dare open it. All I could see right now was my lifelong dream slipping away with every second that passed.

"Human Resources has determined that Park Avenue Health & Wellness is the best fit for you...given your preferred specialty and your love of therapy. The team there was excited to offer you the spot and their salary offer is quite high...the highest I've ever seen for that position."

"Seriously?" I couldn't hold it in anymore. "You're asking me to commit to a residency at a private practice? Is this some type of joke?"

"Park Avenue Health & Wellness is actually the number one private practice in the state, and within the top ten in the country. They have a staff of world class doctors who are all renowned within their respective fields and a facility that rivals the best hospitals. Not only that..."

I tuned him out.

I couldn't bear to listen to another word.

In all my years of aspiring to be a doctor, I'd always pictured myself dashing through the halls of the number one hospital in the state. Not the number one private practice in the state.

And the hospital I was currently sitting in right now, the very same one where I'd just worked my ass off as an intern, was exactly where I'd pictured myself.

I'd never, ever dreamed of entering a private practice, let alone working at one, because I've always felt that their doctor-to-patient ratios were far too small.

Too little variety in the cases to really challenge me...

"Are you listening to me, Dr. Jones?" The chief's voice cut through my thoughts.

"No, sir." I admitted. "Not at all."

"I figured."

He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"Human Resources has put a ton of work into the file I just gave you. It's everything you need to know about Park Avenue Health & Wellness. And why we think this is going to be a total game-changer for your career. These things happen for a reason, you know?"

These things happen when you hire people who don't know how to count. That is what I really wanted to tell him. But I didn't.

Instead, I forced myself to smile and extended my hand.

"Thank you for being such a great mentor, Chief Baxter."

"No, thank you for being one of the best students I've ever had the pleasure of teaching." He shook my hand. "And hey, this is just a minor setback. The second you complete your residency, give me a call. I'll move hell and high water to get you onto the official staff here."

I didn't have the energy to entertain that last comment right now. So I simply picked up the file he gave me, stated my thanks one last time, and left his office.

Not wanting to prolong my cruel change of fate any longer, I took the elevator to the bottom level and headed into the interns' locker room.

There, I pulled out my white coat, my change of scrubs, and quickly stuffed all of my textbooks and binders into my backpack.

Ignoring the concerned faces from my colleagues, I left the hospital and tossed the file about Park Avenue Health & Wellness into the first city trash bin I saw.

Later that night, I sat across from the man I'd met via the Inner Circle Dating app, Finn Hudson.

I was determined to turn this day around and was very much looking forward to rubbing this night in #Doctor S' face, by telling him all about the many ways Finn screwed me.

Why do I get so aroused by telling a stranger about my non-existent sex life and fantasies?

I have no idea. Something else I needed to think about.

"Uh...are you going to order something to drink, Mercedes?"

Finn waved his hand in front of my face and I realized the waiter was staring at me and tapping his notepad.

"Oh, yeah." I glanced at the wine selection on the menu. "I'll have a glass of Château Guiraud."

"An excellent selection, Miss." The waiter smiled. "Might I also suggest..."

"That wine is seventy dollars a glass," Finn interrupted, frowning. "I don't think so. Can you pick something else, please?"

"Oh, sorry," I said. "I didn't realize it was that high." I glanced at the wine menu again. "Can I have the Château Piedmont, then?"

"That's thirteen dollars a glass." Finn shook his head. "How about the Shirley Temple?"

"Sir," the waiter said, looking just as confused as me. "The Shirley Temple isn't a wine. It's a fancy way for our adolescent patrons to order ginger ale with a dash of fruit syrup and a maraschino cherry."

"It's also perfectly priced at four dollars." Finn actually snatched my drink menu away and handed it to the waiter. "We're just here for the drinks and the atmosphere. We're getting Burger King after this, thanks."

"Okay..." The waiter gave me a WTF look and I forced myself to smile. "One Shirley Temple and a glass of water."'

"With no lemon," Finn added. He wagged his finger. "You all charge for the lemon here."

The waiter shook his head in disbelief.

"I'll be right back."

"So, how was your day today, Mercedes?" Finn didn't let the topic of his cheapness linger longer than a second.

"It was..."

I paused, contemplating whether I should tell him I was let go and reassigned to another practice at the last minute, but I hadn't even told my best friend yet.

"It was great. Really, really great," I lied.

"Mine was too. Especially now. I've been looking forward to meeting you in person for quite some time."

"Me, too."

I sipped my Shirley Temple the second the waiter set it down.

"Would you two like to share a breadstick to go with your drinks?" he asked. "A complimentary napkin, perhaps?"

"Possibly. Give us a minute, please." Finn motioned for him to step away. "Are you still interested in coming back to my place tonight, Mercedes?"

I nodded, though I was still slightly speechless about the fact that he was actually taking me to Burger King after this.

That, and the fact that I was going to have to mentally trick myself into thinking about something other than his cheap-ness, if this was going to work for me.

"Great! Well, there's something I really need to tell you before we leave here. Something rather important," Finn said.

"Let me guess, you're married?" I slung my purse over my shoulder in preparation of a positive answer.

"Ha!" he laughed. "Never! This isn't that serious. It's just that...well, remember all those sext messages I've sent you over the weeks?"

"I remember them very well."

"Well, good, but I have to come clean. We can only have a certain type of sex because I..."

"Because you what?"

"Because..." He lowered his voice. "I have penile agenesis."

Penile agenesis?

I shook my head in utter disbelief.

That couldn't be.

"Do you mean erectile dysfunction?" I asked. "That's nothing to be whispering about. It's actually a lot more common than you may think, and not a huge deal. I say that, because you can't possibly mean penile agenesis. That means..."

"It means I was born without a penis." He narrowed his eyes at me. "I know exactly what it means, that's exactly why I said it."

I blinked.

"Come again?"

"You heard me. Most women are too close-minded, dumb and selfish to be understanding about this. So I hope you're not one of them. Are you?"

I leaned back in my chair. I wasn't even sure what to say.

All those weeks he'd teased me with message after message about how huge and rock hard his dick was, and how he planned to fill my vagina...though he used the 'p' word...and now he was pulling the I don't have a penis card?

"Did you or did you not say that your penis was the size of a sausage?" I asked. "Didn't you say that to me, just last week?"

"Maybe. Or maybe the message cut off before I could finish typing. Maybe I meant to say my dick was more like a sausage patty." He deadpanned. "And now it looks like you're judging me," he said, sighing. "Looks like you're just as judgmental and closed-minded as the other women I've met.

"This isn't about you not having a penis, Finn," I said, I raising my voice. "This is about you lying to me. I was looking forward to fucking you!"

At that, the entire restaurant fell silent. And my cheeks grew hot. But I didn't stop talking.

"You know what? I lied to you, too. Today was a shitty day for me. A really, really shitty day that was the cherry on top of a shitty week, because my hospital decided to transfer me to a private practice before my residency could even begin."

"That sounds so awful." He tried to reach over the table and caress my hand, but I jerked back.

"Yeah, and you know what else is awful?" I stood up from the table. "Wasting all those weeks talking online, just to come all the way out here to meet someone who blatantly lied to me. We could've been friends, Finn, if you'd just told me the truth from the start."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Well, is it too late to be friends now? And are you really going to leave without offering to pay for half of your drink?"

I didn't answer him. I turned away and stormed out of the restaurant, hailing the first cab I saw.

"Upper West Side, please," I said to the driver. "Condominium Complex."

"Right away, Miss."

I pulled out my phone so I could vent about this mess of a night to my roommate, but before I could scroll down to her name, I noticed a new instant message from #Doctor S.

#Doctor S: Has your date slurped your pussy yet? Am I interrupting?

NycGirl#9: No, and you're not interrupting anything. If I tell you about what happened on my date tonight, can you promise that you won't laugh?

#Doctor S: Probably not.

NycGirl#9: I'm being serious.

#Doctor S: As am I. Now tell me what happened and I'll tell you whether it's something worth laughing about or not.

NycGirl#9: Well, it's not! The date was amazing and the sex was everything I expected and more!

#Doctor S Your date was supposed to be at 7:00 and it's just now 7:35. This speaks volumes about the level of your expectations.

NycGirl#9: Okay, fine. He lied to me about everything. He even lied about having a penis.

#Doctor S: Come again?

NycGirl#9: You read my message. It means exactly what I wrote.

#Doctor S: Call me. 555-1874.

I stared at his message, in utter disbelief that he gave me his phone number. I know we'd agreed to a phone call after I lost the bet, but this soon?

The same day?

NycGirl#9: How about we renegotiate the phone call thing? Don't you think we should continue keeping things in virtual reality, so we can remain friends?

#Doctor S: 555-1874.

I swallowed and stared at his number again, finally hitting call after a few minutes.

"Yes?" he answered on the first ring. And with that single word, his deep and sexy voice took me completely aback.

I waited to see if he would say something else, but the line was silent.

"Hello?" I said. "I'm pretty sure you're the one who asked me to call you. Hello?"

"Hello," he said, and seconds later, deep laughter came over the line.

"You asked me to call you so you could laugh about my situation?"

"I wanted you to call me so I could put you on speaker phone. I'm double checking some of my nurses' reports tonight and I'll have to multitask if I'm going to get them done by morning."

Right. I thought it was cute that he continued to put up the sham of being a doctor with me, but given my night tonight, I couldn't even make fun of him right now.

He finally stopped laughing.

"Did your date at least apologize to you for wasting your time?"

"No, I left after he asked if I was going to split the cost of a four-dollar drink. He said he only invited me there so we could take in the ambiance. But he probably thought I wouldn't cause a scene after he told me about his penile agenesis. Oh, he was actually planning to take me to Burger King for the real dinner afterwards."

"I see."

His laughter returned, and it turned me on completely.

"I think you and I should meet, NycGirl#9."

Silence.

"Um...you just want us to meet?"

"I want us to fuck. But I thought saying that first would be rude. Nonetheless, if you agree to that, I think you would finally end your months of misery."

"No!" I said firmly, even though every word he'd said dampened my panties. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't even know you."

"You don't have to know me to screw me." He paused. "You clearly didn't know the man you just went out with. You didn't even know he was born without a penis."

"That's not fair."

"You haven't managed to get passed a date with any of the men you've met on the app. Last time I checked, they've all been failures."

"So?"

"How many of them were a one hundred percent match to you, like I am?"

I was silent.

"Exactly!" he said. "None! I think it's in both of our best interests if you let me take you the way you've been wishing for after all these months. I can guarantee I won't be a disappointment, and I actually know how to eat pussy."

I needed to hang up on this man right now. Any man who could soak my panties in seconds with his voice alone, was bound to be trouble.

"I still don't think it's a good idea," were the only words I could say.

"Then give me three reasons why it's not."

"One...I don't even know your name."

"It's Sam."

"Okay, Sam. Are you going to be a gentleman and ask for mine?"

"I'm going to ask you for the other two reasons why I can't fuck you, first. Those are far more important at the moment."

"Are you alright, Miss?" The cab driver looked at me through the rearview mirror and I flashed him a reassuring smile.

Then I caught a glimpse of my reflection and saw that my face was flushed and beading with sweat.

"Hello?" Sam spoke again. "NycGirl#9?"

"Yes?"

"What are the two other reasons why I can't fuck you?"

"Two...you're not really a doctor. You've led me on about something as simple as that for months, so there's a high possibility that you could be a serial killer."

"You've never told me what you do for a living and I haven't assumed anything at all...other than the fact that I think I'd enjoy the taste of your pussy against my mouth. What's pointless reason number three?"

I stalled, thinking of any possible reason, but every nerve in my body was begging me to stop playing games and take this man up on his offer.

"Exactly!" he said, his voice low. "There isn't a third reason and your first two reasons make no sense at all. What are you doing two Fridays from now?"

"Nothing that I know of."

"Wrong answer," he said. "You'll be fucking me. Say it."

"I'll be fucking you," I whispered, not believing I was actually saying that aloud.

"Good. Glad we could finally get on the same page. Where do you want to go for the date part?"

"Huh?" I was confused. "The date part?"

"You're a hopeless romantic," he said. "You've always told me that you need to be mentally aroused before sex, preferably on a date. So, where do you want to go for the date part?"

"Not Burger King."

"Of course not Burger King."

"Well," I said, not wanting a recap of tonight's fiasco. "What type of restaurant do you want me to pick? Give me a price range."

"Price range?"

He sounded as if he was testing those two words out, as if he wasn't sure what they meant. Then he let out that low and sinful laugh that made me wish I knew what he looked like, so I could see it for myself.

"There is no price range, baby. Just tell me where you want to go."

"How about Los Mariscos?"

"That's a fancier version of Burger Kin...only it's Mexican." There was a smile in his voice. "How about picking some place you might actually enjoy?"

I mentally flipped through the long list of exclusive and elegant restaurants in Manhattan that I'd always longed to try.

"I've always wanted to go to Per Se," I said. "But I've heard it's pretty hard to get a table there, though."

"Per Se, it is," he said "And it won't be hard for me."

"Because you're that important?"

"Something like that. Can you do eight o'clock?"

"Yes. Eight o'clock."

"Okay, NycGirl#9. I'll see you at Per Se two Fridays from now at eight o'clock and you can tell me your real name then. Don't stand me up."

"I won't."

I hung up, ready to finally call my roommate and tell her everything, but #Doctor S sent me one final message.

#Doctor S: I highly suggest you don't wear any panties the night we meet. You won't need them.

Stay safe!