*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*****
Chapter 1
Arthur Petitjean wanted to groan, not so much from the pain in his mouth, but from the boring topic of conversation Dr. LeMoine droned on and on about as he drilled on Arthur's tooth.
That was the problem with Dr. LeMoine. The man was a good and thorough dentist and seemed to be a very compassionate man to all his patients. But the problem was, the man was about as exciting as Luke-warm tapioca pudding. And the man assumed, just because he was an egg head, everyone was an egg head. Dr. LeMoine assumed that everyone found the same topics that he found interesting to be of interest.
"So they've recognized that carbon is the building blocks of all life," the man said as he began filling the cavity. "So it makes perfect sense that we're now using this carbon fiber polymer, you know, instead of the old material to fill cavities, how long have you had that gold sheath? Don't often see gold sheaths on a canine like that."
"You're the one put it on," Arthur reminded him. "We were going to use stainless steel but you didn't have any."
"Oh yeah, yeah, that's right," Dr. LeMoine nodded and used his air jet to harden the carbon fiber on the lower tooth. "Yeah, got hit with a rock, split the tooth, right?"
"Yeah, damned kid; told him didn't want him throwing rocks at my house so he threw it at me instead," Arthur chuckled mirthlessly.
And with a final shaping grind with his drill, Dr. LeMoine was finished and went on to the next patient. Arthur gingerly tested the tooth while he waited to pay. His left hand rested on the wooden ledge and he imagined he saw a young mother, holding a crying child and looking at Dottie with interest.
Arthur looked at Dottie, the dental assistant, as she talked with Bertha, another dental assistant and shrugged his shoulders. The young red head was attractive enough and had a very pleasant personality, but was fairly skinny, too skinny for his taste.
He bit down again and took the charge slip the new administrative assistant handed to him. For an instant, Arthur saw the administrative assistant's absolute panic; she was in a new job, in over her head and was terrified they'd find out she didn't know what she was doing and would fire her. The girl desperately needed the job; she and her boyfriend were renting a decrepit old trailer and could barely afford their month to month expenses.
Arthur didn't know how he knew this, but a glance into the girl's eyes told him what he sensed was true. He started to say something, and then clammed up. He too had been right there. His first job after qualifying to be a CPA and he just knew, day after day, that they would fire him at any moment. The only way to outgrow fear is to go through it. He couldn't tell this girl that; she'd just have to live and learn.
So he signed the charge slip, gave her as reassuring a smile as he could, and then left the small building.
It was a beautiful autumn day, not too cold, oranges and reds and yellows all around as Arthur Petitjean drove to his new job.
Paula Lambert, the Administrator of St. Elizabeth's Trauma Center had smiled a dazzling smile when he screwed up his face and told her, on his very first day as the Accounts Receivables specialist, he'd have to be a couple of hours late, having scheduled the dentist appointment a month ago.
"Had to have a root canal done," she smiled. "Why? Had a cavity, but got too busy go take care of it and all of a sudden found half a tooth in my steak. Go; go have it taken care of. We're not going to go broke just because our AR Specialist is an hour or two late."
Yvonne, his wife had smiled when Arthur told her of his new boss's lax attitude.
"And Brett would have docked you three hours for it," she said, having no love for Brett Johnson, his old employer.
In fact, Arthur had to threaten a law suit just to get his last paycheck when he put in his two weeks' notice.
"Good morning," Paula smiled when Arthur strode off the elevators onto the fifth floor of the building. "How'd it go?"
"In and out," Arthur smiled at the attractive woman.
If he had to guess, he'd say that Paula Lambert was in her early thirties. She actually looked much younger, but he reasoned that someone in their mid-twenties would not have the experience to head a large hospital.
He followed the strawberry blonde down the main corridor to a door with a frosted glass pane. She pulled out a key, unlocked the door, and then handed him the key.
"There's this outer office; we're interviewing administrative assistants now," she informed him, pointing to a small desk and a garish green leather chair.
"In the meantime, I assume the old Admin will fill in?" Arthur asked.
Her clear green eyes instantly misted over and she turned her head away from him.
"She, uh, she was killed," Paula admitted.
"Oh!" Arthur gasped. "Oh, I am so sorry! I uh, I didn't know!"
"Yeah, well, kind of why we needed an AR Specialist," Paula said and opened a second door that sat to the left of the small desk. "And here's your office. You need anything, do not hesitate to ask. I apologize, but like I told you, we're really backed up since the, since the, well, you know."
Arthur looked in and saw a large, kidney shaped clear glass table, supported by three chrome legs, a large computer monitor , wireless keyboard and a wireless mouse sitting on top of a mouse pad that had a woman's vagina imprinted on its surface.
"Oh good God, I told them throw that damned thing away," Paula snapped, grabbing the offensive mouse pad off the desk.
She grabbed the mouse pad off of the small wooden desk in the outer office and slapped it on the clear glass table.
Arthur came around the desk, saw the computer sitting on the floor against one of the chrome legs and turned it on. He then sat down in the executive chair that sat behind the desk, and then stood up again.
"Take it the last AR Specialist was kind of short?" he asked, pulling the lever to raise the chair.
"Guess he was about five six, maybe five seven, why? How tall are you?" Paula asked, slightly amused.
"Six three," Arthur said and sat down in the chair.
"It's asking for a password," he said, nodding to the monitor.
"Told Oscar use the last four of your Social Security and your first and last initials, all lower case," Paula said, then looked at the ceiling as her name was paged. "Oops, got to go. Need anything, let me know."
Arthur rapidly typed in his password and went searching for the accounting program.
Whoever had been the previous AR Specialist had been very good at his job. Either that or his administrative assistant had been very good at making him look good.
Arthur looked up in surprise as the chair gave a soft sigh and slid down slightly. He decided to ignore that and forge on.
