Dr. Brandt: Chapter 11

I planted my ass in my seat at the table permanently reserved for the guys and me. It was back in a corner, surrounded by windows, and mainly used for privacy from the rest of the patrons in this restaurant. Given the high profiles of my friends—and the staggering amount of money we spent—the establishment had no problem ensuring we were always cared for.

The guys didn’t say much as I downed the scotch they’d ordered for me like a glass of water. I ran the back of my hand over my wet lips and motioned to the waitress for another, something entirely out of character for me. As I sat in silence, surrounded by curious stares, I stared at the empty glass I clenched in my hands as if it were a magic ball that could give me the answers I needed.

In the time it took me to drive here, I’d gone through an array of emotions, and now, I was utterly overwhelmed and more than a little confused. I had more questions than answers. Could I still operate on my boy, knowing he was mine? Should I try to become the father this boy deserved in his life? Would he want me to try? If I got Jessa pregnant sixteen years ago, knowing how careful we always were, could I have other unknown children running around out there?

“Cam,” I heard Jim say. James Mitchell was CEO of Mitchell and Associates, which owned St. John’s Hospital, and he also happened to be Jake’s brother. I could tell by his voice that it wasn’t the first time he’d called my name.

“Sir, your scotch,” the waitress said.

I smiled to thank her before looking around the table. I was surrounded by Collin and Jake on one side, two world-class surgeons, and Jim, Alex, and Spencer, top executives and tycoons, on the other. To say I wouldn’t be able to bullshit my way through this conversation was an understatement. I might as well have been sitting with the CIA. These guys could read me like a book.

“I don’t know where to start,” I stated honestly and with a defeated tone I didn’t recognize.

“Well, if you said that in a consultation with our surgical teams at St. John’s, I’d have to—”

“Shut the fuck up, Spence,” I said to the VP of Mitchell and Associates. The look of enjoyment on his face at my expense was mildly infuriating. “Seriously, you fuck women like your dick depends on it, so you should know that you can easily be in my shoes.”

“My dick does depend on it,” Spence shot back a shit-eating grin. “Listen, man,” he softened up, letting a glimmer of sympathy show on his face, “I’m just trying to lighten your ass up. So, what the hell is going on?”

If there was one thing Spencer Monroe was known for, it was switching gears almost instantly, especially if the environment called for it. Spencer was a talented son of a bitch like that, though, and I think every one of us cocky assholes envied that talent more than we cared to express.

“Start with the fact that a woman showed up at your office and forced your secretary to call your cell phone,” Collin said. “Then, you change your plans, head to your office to meet this old friend of yours, and after a couple of hours or more, Jake gets a call from you demanding we keep the bar tab open because you’re now the proud father of a bouncing baby boy.” He finished with a grin that he must’ve known I needed to see, given this was most likely the longest the guys had ever seen me not smile.

I downed the second glass of scotch, feeling the warmth of the liquid working its way into my bloodstream. Finally, I felt I could talk reasonably.

“I know it sounds like some chick I fucked ended up finding my office and is claiming I’m the father of her child—”

“Um, last I checked, the documentary crew that Mitchell and Associates are using to promote the pediatric wing has blasted all kinds of fun facts about you, not the least of which is that you inherited Daddy Brandt’s billions. You don’t have to be an actual brain surgeon like you and Collin to know that might attract the masses. It just so happens that you’re also almost as devastatingly handsome as the rest of us, and you’re great at your job, so let’s not pretend that the truckloads of women you’ve managed to bag aren’t going to try to capitalize on that. Am I the only one who isn’t surprised by the new baby revelation, or am I just bitter because my documentary scarred me for life?”

I stared at Jake, shocked I’d let him run his mouth for so long, especially when it came to the insinuation that Jessa would use my fame and the ridiculous amount of money I’d inherited from my father to coerce me to help her son and fund the rest of the child’s future.

“That’s not the case with this one,” I said. I practically dug my fingertips into my forehead while closing my eyes. “I can see the boy is mine. There’s no refuting that fact at all.”

“Then start talking because I’ve had enough mysteriousness for one goddamn night,” Alex finally spoke, right on cue for his nature. He was sharp as a fucking tack and twice as shrewd. He could only sit quietly and let any of us ramble in circles for so long before reining us in and making us get to the point. He was a problem solver to the core and a no-nonsense one at that. “Let’s have it, Cam. I’ve got a wife and twin sons at home who will likely join us at this table if I stay out any longer on a Friday. Don’t make me push my luck too far,” he finished with a grin.

“So,” I said the word with an exaggerated sigh, “the woman in my office tonight came in with her sixteen-year-old son, who is suffering from epilepsy. She is the woman I fell in love with in college. Things between us ended badly. Long story short, I transferred schools and kind of abandoned her.”

“Okay,” Jim spoke again, “you were an average college guy furthering himself in a career, being selfish, not ready to settle down, and going to college elsewhere. There is no guilt in that. If you think you should feel like shit over that, you get a pass, buddy. We’ve all made those mistakes in life, learned from them, and became better men for it.”

“Fine.” I felt myself getting edgy again. “This woman was the love of my life. Unfortunately, she found out she was pregnant soon after I left. She sacrificed her future—a very bright one—to leave mine alone by not telling me about the boy, and now here we are.”

“Sounds like you’re in a pretty damn good spot, Cam,” Collin said, the muted light in the area somehow not dulling the blond in his just fucked-looking styled hair. “Looks like you both are in a great spot to start again. She seems to trust you anyway.”

“Also sounds like she’s an amazing woman for having to put her career on hold to raise a child and not going after your money. I assume she knew your father if you say you loved her. I’ve known you for a while now, and you’ve never mentioned love and women in the same sentence before,” Jake added with his usual smile. “I say go for it.”

“That’s the thing. Not only have I taken an oath to not perform surgeries on family or friends—”

“You take that oath for a kid you don’t know?” Jim asked.

“No,” I answered truthfully. “But he is my son.”

“Biologically,” Collin added. “You know why we take that oath, to stay away from emotions while we operate. Trust me, it is personal, and I know that very well because of Elena. Girlfriend at the time or not, I nearly went gray from fear that I would kill my soul mate when I was forced to operate on her twice. That will fuck with you; I know it fucked with me.”

“So, now that excuse is out of the way. What’s the problem, other than you need to figure out how to be a dad to a sixteen-year-old? Does she hold this against you?” Alex asked.

“Exactly,” Spencer added. “Where’s the dilemma? Use the kid to win her heart back if that’s what you’re aiming for and what you want.”

“Of course, that is what you’d say,” I shot back to Spencer. “But I’m not using a child to win this woman’s heart. In fact, I have no right to her heart since I already broke it once. She’s engaged to a complete dick and has already chosen—”

“And there lies the root of our problem,” Jake smirked and raised a glass to my perplexed face. “Looks like there’s some competition in the mix, which will make fighting for your woman’s heart much more rewarding for you.”

“I have no right to step in and fuck with her life. I already did that once,” I answered.

“But,” Spencer smirked at Jake as if they were plotting some evil plan to let the billionaire playboy doctor get what he felt he had rights to.

“But, what? It’s off the table,” Jim spoke up, the familiar voice of reason. “The woman is engaged, and her son needs your medical expertise,” Jim leveled me with his knowing stare, “not your playboy bullshit, trying to win back his mother.”

The third scotch I finished liked where Spencer and Jake’s heads were. Jessa was mine, Jackson was mine, and I would impress the shit out of them and win both of their hearts because they were both mine.

I raised my glass. “They’re both mine. I will fix the boy, marry my girl, and be the happiest man on the mother fucking planet.”

“Cheers to that,” Alex said in a menacing yet humorous voice. “I think I’ll enjoy this particular shit show more than all of the others.”

Jake chuckled. “To the great Cameron Brandt,” he eyed the men around the table. “May the odds forever be in your selfish favor.”

Half-drunk or not, I knew this was a stupid idea. Why couldn’t I have owned this like a man, gone home, and thought long and hard about the right way to handle this? Why the hell did I come here and cry like a bitch about my problems? The guys were going to get a kick out of every wrong move I made now.