Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“Thank you. I really appreciate you giving me this opportunity, Dr. Morgan.”
“Please, call me Henry.”
“Henry.”
“Now you have a day to settle in and find your way around.” He picks up a piece of paper from the desk and passes it to me. “This has all of your email and server details. I have emailed you our schedule for the week. Take today to familiarise yourself with the girls, your office, and our protocols.”
“Okay.”
“As of tomorrow, you will be working closely with me. I would like you to work out of my office at the hospital the days that I’m in surgery.”
I nod, this all sounds so exciting. “Yes, of course.”
“Tomorrow, we will be at the Martyr Private Hospital. We have a rhinoplasty, a breast augmentation, and a labiaplasty.”
I frown in question.
“That’s a vaginal reconstruction.” He smiles at my inexperience.
I widen my eyes, feeling stupid. “I did not know that.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” He chuckles. “It’s where I reshape the labia and lips of the vagina to make them more visually appealing.”
I raise my eyebrows, unsure what to say to that. “Oh, I see. Do you cut and stitch, or laser? How do you even do that?”
“You can do it one of two ways. Either an edge resection or a wedge resection. You see, no two labias have the same thickness, length, or color, and no two vulvas are the same. Most women are prompted to have this surgery by their partner or what they think their prospective partner would want in a woman.”
I frown as I imagine getting part of my vagina lips cut off, and how much it would hurt.
He shrugs casually, as if he has this conversation every day. “Men have very different tastes as to what they desire their sexual partner’s labia to look like. The one I’m doing tomorrow, for instance. I’m trimming the edges of the labia and filling it with a filler.” His eyes hold mine. “She wants it plump and juicy to look at and touch.” He pauses. “Hormones sometimes discolor it to a darker shade so we are also going to bleach it down the track so it’s a perfect pink.”
My face falls. This is a thing?
“It varies,” he continues. “Plump, thick labia are to my taste. Personal choice, I guess.” His eyes meet mine. “It comes down to how you like it to feel during sex.”
“Men can feel the shape of your labia during sex?” I frown. “I had no idea.”
He chuckles. “Yes, it’s very different from one woman to the next. All a part of the experience, I suppose.”
I stare at him, lost for words, and he chuckles.
“Welcome to the world of plastic surgery, Eliza.”
I shake my head with an embarrassed smile. “Wow. Okay. Who knew?”
He stands. “Happy you’re here, welcome to the team.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh.” His eyes widen. “We have two conferences next month. One in Dallas and one in London. I think the first one is two weeks after you get back from your vacation. The dates are marked in your new calender.” He gestures to the calender on the desk.
“And you want me to come?”
“Yes, of course.”
“How long will we be away?”
“A week each time.”
“Okay.” I nod.
“Will that be a problem with your boyfriend?”
“Not at all,” I lie.
“Good.” His eyes hold mine for a moment longer than they should. “Conferences are a great way to get to know one another properly. You really learn a lot about a person when they depend on you for everything.” He gives me a slow sexy smile. “I look forward to it.” He turns and walks out of the office, and I sink into the chair. “Eliza?” He pops his head back around the corner.
“Yes?”
“Come and get me any time you need me. I’m at your disposal.” He winks.
“Sure.” I force a smile. “That’s great.”
He disappears, and I exhale heavily and look around my office.
Shit…
I really need to get laid before I go on those conferences with him. I could get drunk and ask him for a labia appraisal. This could be a fucking nightmare waiting to happen. I open the calender and flick through to the conference dates that are marked in. I search through the drawer and find a lead pencil, and I scribble the words:
No drinking at conference!
At the end of the day, I walk out into reception. The girls have all left. I take out my phone and text Nathan.
Coming now
A message bounces back.
I’m downstairs.
I smile.
xo
I push the button on the elevator. It arrives, and I step in.
“Hold the door, please,” someone calls.
I put my hand in the door to hold it, and Henry rushes in.
“Thanks.” He smiles. He’s undone his navy tie, and it is hanging loose around his crisp white shirt
“How was your first day?” he asks.
“Great.” I smile. “I had a wonderful day.”
“Wait till I get you into surgery. I can’t wait to fry your brain.”