𝗧𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸

𝗧𝘄𝗼 | 𝗔 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

𝙒𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙨 𝙤𝙛 Mallorie's ebony curls shined in an amber tone and pushed against her face as they blew forcefully in the warm breeze and caught some of the summer sun. A minute went by where she considered retreating into the large craftsman style home she was sat in front of. But the summer sun was invigorating as much as the winds were punishing towards her hair and she decided against it, choosing to remain on the deck and utilize the velvet scrunchie on her wrist instead.

In the midst of the soothing soundtrack that the teeming neighborhood provided, she heard ice cubes chinking against a glass then turned to see her supervisor had returned with the beverages that he'd promised. Dr. Heinsburg was an unassuming older man. He looked particularly softened in the moment. His slacks were belted fairly high at the waist, slivers of grey were visible in the ash brown hair that was parted off-center and awry on his head, and tawny-framed aviators for reading rested over the hook of his nose bridge.

"A peach tea for you, courtesy of the misses," he said and passed Mallorie one of the glasses. Giving away his age, the man let out a couple of strained noises as he slowly lowered himself to take a seat on the raised deck beside her. "And one with a pink wacky straw for me too because she can't seem to resist the opportunity to tease me."

Mallorie giggled then clinked her glass against his. She took a series of generous sips and savored its refreshing chill, also using the natural silence that occurred to think of what she wanted to say.

In a fit of frantic indecision following her appointment with Michael, she had dialed up her mentor for advice. No intervals of ten minutes that she spent pacing and organizing a mental pros and cons list quelled her. It wasn't the action of joining Michael Jackson on his popstar endeavors that worried her as much as her own greenness and uncertainty. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why Dr. Heinsburg had offered her up the way he had according to Michael's manager. She was in her last year of residency before graduation, yes, but she wasn't sure if she had honed in her skills enough to take them out of the clinic's direct supervision and on the road—much less, offer them to an international celebrity.

After hearing about her quandary, Dr. Heinsburg had offered to speak with her at length in person. Mallorie declined at first, not wanting to take away from his time off. But in selflessly kind fashion that was distinctive to the Heinsburgs, he had insisted as well as invited her over to his home. And with even more than twelve hours having passed since, Mallorie still didn't know exactly what she wanted to say.

"How's the tea, Lorie?" he asked with a warm smile at her.

"Oh, it's delicious!" She answered truthfully. While lost in her thought, she had sucked down nearly half the glass. "You have to ask Shannon to write down the recipe for me."

"I'm happy to do that for you. Just remind me before you get going." The wood of the deck squeaked as the older man let out a sigh and leaned back to brace his elbows against the steps behind him. "So, I don't suppose you're here to tell me how great of a supervisor I am."

"I try to tell you that all the time and you always brush me off," she countered.

He angled his head to one of his shoulders in pretend pondering before he answered, a gleam of mischief in his eye. "Well, I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear it a hundred more times, just to really drive the point home."

Her mouth pulled into a little smile. His sense of humor was one of her favorite qualities about him aside from his wisdom. "I'll make sure I say it a hundred more times after you tell me what I should do about all this Michael Jackson business."

"Haven't I already told you?"

Mallorie knew he was referencing the conversation from last night. The buoyant back and forth that existed between them now was nowhere to be found during the tense phone call. During it, she demanded he repeat the details of how she had come up in the conversation between him and Frank DiLeo as a recommended physician in the first place. Reluctantly, Heinsburg revealed he'd told his patient's manager that she already practically graduated in partial credit to his instruction, and that she would be the most fit for the job.