When Gina met Dottie

Ruby and I walked into that penthouse like we were stars. Me, the star physician, and she, my walking billboard of perfection. This was the home of Cruella, a socialite addicted to plastic surgery.

I brought Ruby to our hostess, and my bestie flinched at the sight. Cruella had something else done, definitely not by me, since I had refused to take her on as a client. "Hey, Cruella, meet my friend Ruby."

"Hey, the Talented Dr. Mills coming to my house!" She said, giving me a kiss on each cheek.

"Nice party," I said, trying to avoid commenting on the job.

"Well… what do you think?" She asked, tilting her face toward me. I turned my head and reached for a champagne flute as the waiter walked by me. "Looking good, huh?"

I shook my head. "You really should stop," I said, looking around for my next conquest. Hmmm, a boy or a girl… "Do you have any feeling left on your face?"

"A little bit right here…" She said, signaling just above her eyebrows. "Everything else is numb numb numb."

"That's not good," Ruby said, unable to mask her disbelief.

"No… It's not." I mumbled, and just then, a buxom African American lady approached Cruella.

"Cru, baby, come quick," she said.

"What is it, Ursula?" Cruella asked.

"Sid tripped and cut his knee," Ursula stated.

"So?"

"It's bleeding, he might need stitches." She said,

"I can stitch it up," I finally spoke up and turned to Ruby. "Get my bag in the car?"

Ruby nodded and bolted from the room, happy not to have to stare at Cruella's face anymore.

I followed Ursula to where Sid was nursing a cut on his knee. It was a small wound, but in this high-society drama, even a paper cut could be cause for panic.

As I worked on Sid's knee, Ursula hovered nearby, watching my every move. "You're a lifesaver, Doc," she said.

"No problem, just part of the job," I replied, focusing on my task.

Cruella approached her eyebrows still immobile. "You're stitching him up, Dr. Mills? I didn't know you did these kinds of gigs."

"I do what needs to be done," I replied curtly, finishing the stitches. "All done, Sid. Keep it clean and dry."

Sid nodded his thanks, and I packed up my medical kit. Cruella's eyes lingered on me, a mix of curiosity and perhaps a hint of regret.

Back at the party, I found Ruby chatting with a charming young man. She handed me my bag, and I gave her a grateful smile.

"Well, that was an unexpected turn of events," I said to Ruby.

"You always find a way to be the hero, Gee," she replied, raising her glass in a toast.

As the night continued, I couldn't shake the feeling that beneath the glamorous façade of high society, everyone had their own stitches to mend, whether visible or hidden beneath layers of wealth and privilege.

Once I had my bag, I took Sid to the bathroom and examined his knee. It looked to have been gashed by some glass. He needed like three stitches. "What did you do? Jump a flight of stairs?" I asked, removing the wedding band that I wore to remind me of the awful experience I had, and dropping it into my purse.

"I tripped, I was distracted," he said, a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Let me guess," I said, putting on my gloves and preparing a syringe of lidocaine. "A girl?"

He blushed and nodded. "She's so pretty. She's my teacher."

"Oh, that sounds like bad news," I said, injecting the boy's knee with a very low dose. "Did you learn anything in that class?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I'm totally failing."

I stitched him up, and his scarring would be minimal as long as he took care of it as he should. "Make sure you keep it clean, okay? But don't take baths, only showers."

He came out of the bathroom, and everyone clapped as he announced he was alive. Finally, I spotted her. A triple B. Brunette, busty, and beautiful. She had to be the distraction. She caught me staring, and I smiled, picking up a drink from a tray and raising my glass to her.

She blushed as I moved closer to her. "I'm Regina."

She extended a hand. "Dorothy."

"Hey, Dottie!" Cruella shouted from across the room. "You better look out for her, those plastic surgeons really know how to operate." Then she laughed maniacally.

My eyes widened, and I looked at Dorothy. The brunette smirked at me and signaled for me to continue walking. We talked a lot that night, including our work. "I have always been skeptical about plastic surgery."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah, it all looks so fake."

"Not if you do it right."

"Really?"

"Yes," I said, looking around the area and spotting some of my clients. "Some of my clients are here."

"Wow," she said, looking around.

"Yeah, guess," I said, and she looked around and found an older woman seated between two men. Her face seemed to be stretched beyond recognition.

"Her?" she asked.

I quirked a brow, "really?"

She laughed. I pointed out one of my clients, a man who had a fantastic ass across the room. "Mr. Sexy ass?"

"Before that, he had N'Assatall disease," I said.

"What?"

"No ass at all, his back went straight to his legs." I said, "It was so bad he was a danger to himself."

"Wow, good job," she stated. I knew I had to have this girl. I was connecting, and she was so young.

'Do you wanna go? We can go down to the common and walk the park."

She nodded and followed me out of the penthouse. As we walked by the frog pond, I looked at the carousel in the distance. "What about you, Dorothy? What do you do?"

"I am a sixth-grade math teacher." She said,

"Really? Tell me, do your students seem like they understand what you are teaching? Or are you proving to be a distraction?"

She laughed. "Hey, I am a good teacher."

I laughed with her. "I don't doubt it." I stopped walking. "I have never made a connection with anyone like this before."

"Sure… try again." She said skeptically.

"Are you calling me a liar?" I asked.

"Yep, I can tell…" She said, "Try again."

I smiled softly and opted to make her understand what I meant. "I have never met anyone your age that has captivated me so completely and that we have connected on a deeper mental level like you."

"That's better." She whispered and came closer to me.

"You believe me now?" I asked as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

"The vulnerability in the words…" She nodded, and then her lips connected with mine, and I saw little explosions behind my eyelids.

The next morning, I awoke in Dorothy's bed, nestled in her nice and neat one-bedroom apartment within an adorable row house on West Cedar. Dorothy was wrapped around me, and for once, I didn't want to rush away. I craved the comfort of her arms.

My phone rang, disturbing the tranquility of the moment, and Dorothy stirred. Without a word, she reached for my bag so that I could grab it. Something fell on her bare chest as she handed it to me. I didn't pay much attention, engrossed in fishing my phone out of my purse. "Regina, what is this?"

I paused, glancing over at her. She was holding my wedding band, and I found myself at a loss for words. I made a conscious decision not to reveal my marital status to her, not like I did with anyone else. With Dorothy, I wanted something more. "Uh…"

"You're married?" She said, her voice laced with disdain, tossing the band back at me and recoiling. "Did I just fuck a married woman?"

"No, wait!" I pleaded.

"Are you even a lesbian?" She continued, her frustration evident.

"No… I'm…"

"Get out of my apartment."

"Dot-" I started, attempting to back out of the bed, only to land hard on my ass.

"Get out!" She commanded, throwing my clothes at me. I stared at the scattered garments around me.

"You have to believe me," I insisted as I began to get dressed, managing only to put on my slip.

"Get out!" she repeated, forcefully pushing me out of the door and slamming it shut in my face. She opened the door again, tossing my shoes at me, and pressed the ring into the palm of my hand.

I sighed, staring at the slab of wood that had been forcefully closed in my face. Then I shifted my gaze to the ring in the palm of my hand. Swallowing the sob threatening to escape, I whispered, "You don't understand," as I turned to go home.