And The Daddy Is… The Infertile Guy?!

Chapter 54

“Gwendolyn, you’re really in for it with the internship assessment next Monday, teased Mamie, her voice laced with a sneer, “Without a mentor to hold your hand, you’re practically out the door.”

Gwendolyn didn’t bat an eyelid, her icy gaze betraying none of the turmoil Mamie hoped to see. Instead, it was Mamie who shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Gwendolyn’s

serene stare.

“Let’s make a bet, Gwendolyn.” Mamie’s temper flared, her ego bruised, “We’ll see who scores higher on the assessment. The loser packs her bags. You in?”

Gwendolyn lifted her chin slightly, standing tall with a voice both soft and resolute, “You’re on. Loser leaves.”

With a huff, Mamie stormed off. Book smarts were one thing, but practical exams were a whole different beast. Gwendolyn was toast.

Gwendolyn made her way back to the locker room, gathered her things, and, as usual, headed to Room 2103.

“Today, I’ll be giving you a massage to help with circulation,” she said, gently assisting Eve to lie down.

Eve peered at her with a scrutinizing gaze before finally speaking coldly, “Miss, you ought to have some self–respect.” The hospital’s rumor mill had been churning, and it hadn’t taken much for Eve to catch wind of the gossip.

“Character is everything in our line of work.”

She continued, her brow furrowed in distaste, “Why lower yourself to being the other

woman?”

pressing down on the necessary

agitated, “There is no smoke without fire. Don’t you dare get cozy with me to reach our Sanford. The Lopez family is a respectable family, and we don’t welcome women of

paused, then looked up, her clear, defiant

guilt seeping into her voice, “I didn’t mean

cold exterior was cracking, and she actually felt a pang

room like a creeping vine.

of massage, Gwendolyn’s hands

1/2

다

silence, Eve awkwardly praised, “You’ve got better hands than Dr. Yates. You must’ve put

voice was a soft

was about to boast about her refined palate when she instead said, “I eat fruit, but only the finest, the premium stuff. None of that pesticide–laden

several glass containers from the locker room and swiftly

one by one, they revealed an array of top–tier blueberries,

Gwendolyn a surprised glance, “Does Bayridge Hospital pay its interns

nature, not the type

prepared them,” Gwendolyn explained.

wanting the fruit to go to waste or to share it with her petty colleagues, she

this temperamental