6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

"He's picking you up?"

I stop fixing my hair and meet Savannah's gaze in the bathroom mirror. She's standing in the doorway and observing me with a grin.

"Yes." I pretend like manic butterflies aren't slamming around in my abdomen. "Joel offered to pick me up so I wouldn't have to ride the bus to University Hospital for our meeting."

Savannah's grin spreads wider. "That's an extremely gentlemanly thing of him to do."

I go back to fixing my hair. "Trust me: it's not what you think. Joel is simply being polite, and it does make sense for us to arrive to the hospital together. That's all."

"Are you sure that's all?" Savannah wags her eyebrows. "What makes you certain that he's not, perhaps, interested in―"

"I heard Joel tell his teammate, Seth, that he's not interested in romance." I glance again at Savannah through the mirror. "Plus, even if he was interested in romance, he would never be interested in me. He's an all-star athlete and a celebrity, for heaven's sake."

Savannah doesn't reply, but her lingering smile makes it clear she's still not convinced. I opt not to reiterate my point, however. Instead, I focus on doing a final analysis of my appearance. I can only hope that I've struck the right balance with my look for this hugely important meeting. I need to appear confident yet deferential. Intelligent and caring. Well-informed but not confrontational or insane.

It's like navigating a minefield.

I elected to pull back my hair into a low bun. I'm wearing more makeup than I usually do, without going over-the-top. For my outfit, I decided on a jade-colored sweater, black trousers, and kitten heels. I'm completing the look with small hoop earrings, a tweed black jacket, and the nicest purse-bag I own.

"You're going to be great, by the way."

Savannah's voice brings me out of my thoughts. I find her in the mirror once more. Her eyes are now shining with admiration.

"Thanks." I face her while drawing in a shaky breath. "I wholeheartedly believe in this cause, but let's hope I don't get jettisoned from the medical community by addressing it. Let's also hope that we can convince the administrators to change their minds about closing the play area."

Savannah gives me a hug. "No matter how things play out, you'll be able to hold up your head high." She steps back and checks the time on her phone. She sighs. "I wish that I could stay until Joel arrives, but I'm already late for work."

"It's all right. I appreciate you staying with me as long as you did."

"I was more than happy to do it." Savannah gives my hand a squeeze. "You've got this, Dan."

She shows a last smile and then darts out of the bathroom. I hear her scurry across the apartment, open the front door, step out into the corridor, and close the door behind her. Suddenly, I'm alone and immersed in silence.

I go into my bedroom and grab my bag. All at once—and for probably the hundredth time today—the magnitude of what I'm about to do smacks into me. I, Danielle Gillespie, a meager pre-med student, am meeting with Angela Cox, the president of University Hospital. I'll be face-to-face with someone who has immense influence in the medical world and who runs the hospital where I hope to do residency one day.

I sense the color drain from my face. What am I doing? I'm not a businesswoman. I don't know anything about hospital budgets or the logistics of running that pediatric play area. I have no clout. I'm merely one of countless pre-med students who will be desperately trying to impress everyone during the cutthroat interview process this winter. So the last thing I should be doing is attending a meeting that will get me labeled as controversial and impertinent.

I drop onto a chair. I shouldn't be doing this.

How, though, could I not do this? I walk the halls of University Hospital regularly. I witness how much those kids love the play area. My whole reason for wanting to go into medicine is to help those who are sick and ailing, so I can't sit back and do nothing. Even if doing something means risking my future.

I push myself to my feet and walk on unsteady legs out of the apartment. I take the elevator down to the lobby and venture outside. The sun is bright and low in the sky. More leaves have fallen to the ground. The afternoon air has a bite to it that signals the colder weather of late fall is on the way. The aromas of campfire and pumpkin spice are in the breeze. Were it not for the fact that I'm about to obliterate my future, I would say this is another perfect autumn day. I hope that I survive it.

The sound of an approaching vehicle jars me to awareness. A black mini-SUV that matches the description Joel gave me is approaching via the circular drive in front of the building. Joel spots me and pulls his vehicle to an idling stop in front of where I'm standing. I open the passenger-side door before I realize that Joel was starting to get out of the car to open my door for me.

"Hi, Joel," I greet him, my voice quivering as I slide into the vehicle.

"Hi, Danielle." Joel gets resituated and shuts his door. "I didn't mean for you to have to wait outside. I was going to come up to your apartment and knock."

"It's all right." I click my seatbelt into place. "I figured getting fresh air would be a good idea."

"Understood."

Silence settles over us as Joel drives out of the parking lot. I steal a sideways glance at him. He has on his sexy-nerd glasses, and he's wearing a crisp black polo shirt and dark jeans. He looks professional, handsome, and almost distractingly hot. I―

Joel's eyes shift my way.

I clear my throat. "So are you ready for this?"

"I think so." Joel seems calm, yet pensive, as he goes back to watching the road. "I read your email yesterday, by the way. The talking points you intend to raise during the meeting are great."

"Thanks. I looked over the notes you sent me, too, and I think the remarks you've planned are perfect. They're succinct, clear, and reasonable. They'll be a smart and effective way to start off the meeting."

Joel flips on the turn signal. "That's assuming the admin actually gives us a chance to speak at all. The PR folks at the hospital were more than happy to set up the meeting―and they were delighted to allow reporters to attend―but when they realize what we're there to talk about, our meeting might get cut very short."

"Hang on." I shift in my chair to face him. "You didn't let them know what we're planning to discuss?"

"Nope. I didn't post the reason for our meeting on social media, either. People know the meeting is happening, but they don't know why." Joel starts to smile. "Frankly, I think the secrecy made the media even more interested and triggered heightened curiosity among the general public."

"That's perfect."

We share a grin and then both fall quiet once more. However, my mind continues racing, and I become so absorbed by my thoughts that I'm barely aware of the scenery going by. The next thing I know, University Hospital appears into view. The butterflies inside me launch another frenzied attack upon my abdomen. I clench my hands in my lap as Joel navigates into the parking garage.

"I have a keycard for the VIP elevator, which I typically use from here in order not to draw attention to my visits," Joel explains as he parks. He tugs the keys from the ignition and smiles again. "However, perhaps it's best to draw attention this time."

I nod. "I completely agree."

We get out of the car, trek across the garage, and enter the main elevator. I reach out to tap the button for the lobby just as Joel does. Our hands brush, the contact causing fire to blast up my arm and explode in my chest. My eyes leap to his, and the look in his gaze momentarily causes me to forget about the world. A heartbeat later, however, Joel pulls his eyes from mine and focuses straight ahead. I pretend to be intrigued by the carpet as the elevator starts to ascend.

The elevator reaches the lobby, and its door opens. Joel gestures for me to exit first. We're not even three steps out of the elevator before people start noticing Joel and pointing in his direction. Excited chatter begins rippling through the air. More and more people turn to stare at him and take his picture. As we continue walking, I sneak another peek Joel's way. Impressively, there's not a hint of ego in his demeanor. He's not gloating from the attention or put off by it, either; he's simply going about his business.

We reach another elevator bay, and Joel glances over his shoulder in the direction of the lobby. He finally reveals a smile to me as he remarks in a low voice:

"I think we caused a decent stir back there, don't you? Hopefully, it'll help further spread the word that we're here today."

"I'm sure it will. However, we didn't cause the stir back there," I point out. "That commotion was all about you."

Joel eyes take on an amused gleam. He leans in toward me. "To the contrary, those people already know who I am. Now everyone is trying to figure out who you are."

I freeze.

Is he right?

Good grief, what am I doing here?!

The elevator pings, snapping me out of my stupor. I step into the elevator and Joel trails after me. He pulls his VIP card from his wallet, scans it over a digital reader, and presses a button for an unmarked floor. As the elevator begins rising, another wave of nerves crashes down upon me. What's going to happen next? How―

The elevator comes to a stop, and its door slides open.

I gulp.

The elevator has opened directly at the back of a gargantuan meeting room. Bright lights are overhead. Big windows overlooking the cityscape line the wall to the left. Two important-looking people―a tall woman who's wearing an expensive business suit and a portly man in a button-up shirt and tie―are standing at the far end of the room and chatting with each other. In the center of the enormous space is a long table with several empty chairs positioned around it. And at my right is the most petrifying sight of all: a flock of media personnel who are equipped with video cameras, phones, audio recording devices, laptops, lights, and tripods.

Everyone turns and stares at Joel and me. There's a pulse of silence, and then a wiry, middle-aged woman with stringy brown hair and a baseline crazy look in her eyes emerges from the media throng; she's the only one who doesn't have an electronic gizmo in her grip. She's dressed in a blouse and slacks, and as she comes toward us, a manufactured smile appears on her thin lips. She extends her hand to Joel and says:

"Welcome, Mr. Lambert. I'm Lindi Cadding. I'm in charge of University Hospital's PR department, and I would like to say that all of us here at University Hospital are thrilled about your visit today."

"Thank you. We appreciate you having us." Joel shakes Lindi's offered hand while tipping his head toward me. "This is my colleague―"

The rest of Joel's words are drowned out by the commotion that ensues as the media herd clamors to capture photos of Joel and Lindi shaking hands. Lindi turns toward the cameras with her unhinged smile firmly in place. She waits until a few more pictures are taken before she releases Joel's hand. She then shifts her attention to me. Her smile dwindles.

"Hello, uh . . ." Lindi pulls her phone from the pocket of her slacks and starts scrolling on its screen. "You're Dana, right? No, Danika?" She stops scrolling. "Ah, yes, that's right. It's Danielle. Danielle Gillespie."

"Yes." I maintain a professional smile. "Thank you for arranging this meeting, Ms. Cadding."

Lindi doesn't bother to reply to me or shake my hand, and no one takes my picture. To be honest, I'm not sure whether to be relieved or offended.

"Come." Lindi dramatically motions for Joel and me to follow her. "I'll make the official introductions."

Joel and I share a glance before we walk with Lindi across the room while the cameras track our every movement. The man and woman who have been standing by the far wall exchange a last word with each other, and then they come forward to meet us by the table. The man's smile is more like a grimace. The woman's smile is polished but doesn't reach her eyes, which narrow as they lock on Joel.

Lindi clears her throat. "Joel and Danielle, I am honored to introduce you to Ms. Angela Cox, the president of University Hospital, and Mr. Elmer B. Pifferots, Ms. Cox's personal assistant." She motions from Angela and Elmer back to Joel and me. "Ms. Cox and Mr. Pifferots, this is Joel Lambert and, uh, Darlene . . . no, wait, it's . . ."

"Danielle," I reminder her.

"Right. Danielle." Lindi appears immensely underwhelmed. "Danielle Gillespie."

Elmer shakes our hands while muttering a word salad concoction of a generic, administrative-sounding greeting. He then moves aside, and I'm fairly certain he nearly bows to Angela while doing so. Angela steps closer to us. I instinctively stand up straighter under her scrutinizing gaze. She absolutely radiates power and authority; heck, even her short, dark blond hair is like a helmet of in-charge-ness.

"Hello, Joel." Angela's tone is cool as she shakes his hand. "It's nice to see you, as always."

Joel doesn't appear rattled in the slightest. "It's nice to see you again, too."

Lindi's eyebrows are rising as she observes the exchange. "Ms. Cox, you already know Mr. Lambert?"

"Yes, Lindi, I do." Angela continues shaking Joel's hand while adjusting her stance so the cameras can get a better angle of her. "Don't you remember that my son, Kaden Cox, is also on the university's basketball team? Of course, since Joel is the starting point guard, my son doesn't get very much playing time." Her eyes narrow at Joel again.

Yikes. If looks could kill, Joel would be a dead man.

Joel, however, still seems completely unflustered. "It's great having Kaden on the team."

Angela flares her nostrils and holds Joel's hand in her vice-like grip until the last photos are taken. Her smile appears set in cement, and she's basically aiming daggers at Joel with her eyeballs.

I think it's time to interject.

"Hello, Ms. Cox," I pipe up in a professional tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for having us."

Angela blinks and looks at me. I think she had genuinely forgotten that I was here. She quickly recovers her composure and replies:

"Hello, Diana."

I sigh to myself.

Angela motions to the table. "Let's sit down. As you can imagine, we're immensely curious to learn why you wanted to meet today."

Joel and I exchange another fast look before we go around to the other side of the table and take two chairs in the middle. Angela and Elmer sit directly across from us. Lindi plunks herself down on Elmer's other side, her manic gaze jetting around as the media personnel migrate to the far end of the room, which is now to the right of Joel and me, so they can get photos of the two sides squaring off across the table.

Before anyone can speak, the elevator door slides open again, and a group of people who are decked out in stuffy-looking business attire hustle into the room. I count two women and three men in the group. In near-perfect unison, they go to Angela's side of the table and take the rest of the available chairs. They don't say a thing as they peer at Joel and me. My anxiousness rises even higher. Joel and I are definitely outnumbered now.

"I invited a few other members of the hospital's administrative staff to attend," Angela explains, her cold gaze lingering on Joel. "I hope you don't mind."

"We don't mind at all." Joel gives the others a tip of his head. "Danielle and I are glad they're here, in fact, since this is a matter we want to discuss with them, too."

Angela does a double take. "You do?"

Joel nods, and in doing so, it's as though his commanding presence takes control of the room. "Yes. Danielle and I are here to express our concern about the hospital's recent decision to shut down the pediatric outdoor play area."

There's a beat of stunned silence. Angela's eyes momentarily widen. Elmer's mouth drops open. The administrators begin exchanging blank looks. The media folks hurriedly start taking more photos.

"I see." Angela glances at the cameras before smacking Joel with another harsh stare. "I didn't realize the decision was common knowledge. How did you hear about the plan to shut down the play area?"

Joel shrugs nonchalantly. "How I learned the information isn't important. What's important is figuring out how we can keep that play area open."

The reporters start whispering amongst themselves.

Angela's smile is becoming increasingly forced. "I'm admittedly surprised you're attempting to address this matter, since decisions like these are obviously not within your area of expertise. After all, Joel, you're a college athlete, not a hospital administrator." Her eyes track to me. "And you, Darryl, are . . . ?"

Everyone's heads swivel in my direction. My stomach drops as my whole future in the medical profession flashes before my eyes.

"I'm a pre-med student," I answer, barely managing to keep my words steady.

More animated whispering ensues among the reporters. A few photographers take my picture. Angela's attention fixes more severely upon me. Both Lindi and Elmer begin typing fast on their phones. The other administrators share more empty glances as if they still don't know what's happening or where they are.

"Well, that is truly wonderful, Dixie," Angela tells me, patting her hair helmet. "We here at University Hospital certainly understand the hard work it takes to become a physician."

I could be wrong, but from the chilly way Angela is scrutinizing me, I'm guessing she doesn't find my career choice wonderful at all. Rather, I'm fairly sure she's already plotting how to have me banished from the medical world. Adopting a tone as though she's speaking to a couple of toddlers, she goes on addressing Joel and me:

"Now, as I mentioned, though this isn't your area of expertise, we're pleased to hear whatever it is you have to say, so please go ahead."

Joel and I silently communicate our next move to each other with our eyes: since we actually have the floor, Joel will start off with the introductory talking points he prepared.

"Thanks." Joel's composed demeanor is impressive; clearly, he's accustomed to performing in high-stakes situations while ignoring cameras. "What Danielle and I have to say is straight- forward: shutting down that outdoor play area to save a few dollars is prioritizing financial gain over the well-being of this hospital's youngest and most vulnerable patients. While I don't have the data on the exact costs, I suspect that the money required to staff and maintain the play area is insignificant compared to most of the hospital's expenses. There have got to be other places where this hospital can cut costs in order to do the right thing and keep that play area open."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the reporters creeping closer. Elmer goes back to writing an apparent manifesto on his phone. The administrators are peering at Joel like they missed their afternoon coffees. Lindi is biting her nails.

"We appreciate your concern," Angela states icily before pausing to smile for the cameras. "However, hospitals must ensure the budget remains balanced, even if it means doing things that don't make sense to those, like you, who are on the outside. Rest assured that before making our decision, we went through the budget meticulously with accountants, MBAs, and attorneys. After our thorough review, it was unanimously agreed upon that closing the play area would be the most efficient way to cut costs in order to bolster more critical programs. I can also assure you that University Hospital will continue providing our youngest patients with the most comfortable experiences possible." She gets to her feet. "Thank you again for coming by to express your thoughts. We enjoyed our time with you, and we wish you a great rest of your day."

I blink. Is Angela ending the meeting? Already? Just like that?

Elmer, Lindi, and the other administrators get up from their chairs. The media personnel start putting away their equipment. My shock gives way to despair. Yes, this meeting is really over.

It's can't be over, though. This is too important.

"Ms. Cox." Joel stands, putting his commanding form on full display. "I appreciate that you have other things to do, but if we could have a few more minutes of your time to discuss this further, it would be appreciated. As Danielle is prepared to explain, the play area is beloved and important, and it's―"

"And it's old and expensive to maintain." Angela's words are coming out in increasingly staccato-like syllables. "Again, I do appreciate you coming by, but this is a matter that's best left to the experts. Thank you for your visit."

Angela heads for the elevator. Her entourage scuttles after her. I push myself to my feet. My mind is in overdrive. My heart is pounding so hard that I can feel my pulse in my ears. If I say anything, I'll finish annihilating any chance I have left of doing residency here one day. I can't stay quiet, though. I have to say something. And I have to say it right now.

"What if we challenge you to a game of HORSE over it?" I blurt out.

Wait. What did I just say?

The room becomes weirdly quiet. Joel looks at me with one eyebrow arched. Angela halts and spins my direction. Elmer also whirls around, and he goes back to feverishly typing on his phone. The other administrators are gaping at me like my head is on fire. Lindi's eyes are practically bugging out of her cranium as they shift to the media personnel, who are scrambling to set up their equipment again.

"I'm sorry?" A smirk appears on Angela's plumped-up lips. "Did you just challenge us to a game of HORSE?"

I am fully aware that I'm giving every person in this room a valid reason to believe I'm insane. Nevertheless, I pretend like my suggestion is the most rational thing in the world as I reply:

"Yes, I did. In a sense, at least."

Angela actually laughs. "Delilah, I appreciate your humor. I really do." She's still chuckling as she makes another move toward the elevator. "Have a good day, you two."

"I'm not joking, though," I call after her.

Angela stops again, her posture stiffening. She faces me once more. Her smile is gone. I peek around the room. Everyone else is understandably waiting for me to explain myself . . . or perhaps they're figuring out how to get me contained in a straight jacket. It's hard to say.

"This is what I propose." I feign confidence, though I'm mentally scrambling to come up with this new plan in real-time. A game of HORSE was definitely not in the notes I prepared. "We'll set up a fundraiser event to draw attention to the issue of the play area needing to be financed, and we'll publicize the event throughout the region. People will be able to buy tickets to attend, and the featured part of the event will be a simple game of HORSE between two people of your choosing and two people of our choosing."

Joel's other eyebrow rises.

I keep speaking what I know is total madness. "If your team wins, the hospital can proceed with its plan to shut down the play area. If our team wins, however, the hospital will agree to keep the play area open."

Total. Silence.

Angela blinks and then scoffs. "You can't possibly be serious, Daphne."

"I'm completely serious." I cannot believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. I also can't believe that I'm maintaining a matter-of-fact fa?ade. "In addition to the wager over the play area, the money raised from ticket sales will be donated to the pediatric department here at University Hospital." I smile innocently at her. "Now, don't you think the optics will be much better for this facility if tomorrow's headlines announce that the hospital has agreed to participate in a good-natured fundraiser on behalf of its pediatric patients, rather than how you decided to shut down the play area without exploring other budget-cutting options first?" I allow my eyes to float pointedly in the direction of the reporters, who are hanging on my every word.

Angela also looks toward the members of the media. She then peers at me again. The daggers in her eyes become bazookas.

"Ms. Cox." Lindi wipes her palms on her slacks before motioning to me. "I believe Deidre makes a good point. Given that the details of this meeting will be hitting the press tomorrow―and given how Mr. Lambert is a prominent and admired figure in the community―perhaps agreeing to the fundraiser would be a wise idea. It will be well-received by the people of this region . . . many of whom are private donors to this facility, I might add."

Angela's jaw muscles clench. A split-second later, however, she turns toward the cameras with a sparkling smile and proclaims, "University Hospital would be delighted to participate in the fundraiser that Dorothy has suggested."

Chaos erupts. The reporters begin shouting questions. Camera flashes are hitting my eyes. The other administrators appear like they've just clued in to what's going on. Elmer is blotting his forehead with a handkerchief. Lindi is scrolling her phone with supersonic speed.

Amidst the commotion, Joel faces me and breaks into a grin. I smile back at him and shrug.

"Ms. Cox, who will play HORSE on behalf of University Hospital?" a reporter calls out above the din.

Everyone falls into a hush.

"Why, that should be obvious." Angela tips up her chin. "Representing University Hospital will be Kaden Cox, whom many consider to be the best player on the university's men's basketball team. His teammate will be Felicity Iversen, the leading scorer on the women's team."

There's more rabid chatter among the media personnel.

"What about you, Joel?" someone else demands. "You'll obviously be shooting on behalf of saving the pediatric play area. Who will be your teammate?"

Stillness resettles over the room. Like everyone else, I'm watching Joel with profound curiosity. Who will he pick? Seth? One of his other teammates? A player from the women's team? He has numerous outstanding options. Who will his partner be?

Joel looks directly at the reporters for the first time since we arrived. "My teammate will be Danielle Gillespie."

I immediately begin racking my brain for who Danielle Gillespie might be. Hmm . . . Danielle Gillespie . . . let's see . . . the name does sound familiar . . . maybe she's on the women's team . . . or perhaps she's a coach . . .

Wait a moment.

Danielle Gillespie.

Danielle Gillespie?

Me?! Joel is selecting me as his teammate? Has he gone nutty? Everyone in here already thinks I'm crazy, but now I'm convinced that Joel has legitimately lost his mind.

Suddenly, all the cameras swivel back to me, and reporters start hurling questions my way.

"Danielle, in addition to being a pre-med student, you obviously must be an immensely skilled basketball player. How young were you when you first fell in love with sports?"

"Miss Gillespie! Based on your extensive basketball experience, where on the court is the best spot to shoot from during a game of HORSE?"

"Danielle, are you willing to share the secrets of your athletic success?"

"What's your number-one piece of advice to those dreaming of being an athletic superstar one day?"

While the shouting and picture-taking continues, Joel turns my way. He's grinning again.

"Are you completely off your rocker?" I demand under my breath. "In case I didn't make this clear before: I don't play basketball. You absolutely cannot use me as your teammate. Not for this. The stakes are too high."

Joel's expression grows serious. "Danielle, the only reason we still have a chance of saving the play area is because of you. You deserve to be on the court so people know what you've done. Besides, there's no one else I want as my teammate."

"I may be the reason there's still a chance to save the play area, but if I'm your teammate, I'll also be the reason you lose." I can't keep the panic out of my voice. "You saw me the other day. I couldn't make a simple shot. I couldn't even pass the ball."

"So we'll practice." Joel must be living in an alternate dimension because he sounds completely confident. "You believe that I can succeed in my chemistry class, and I believe that you can succeed on the court."

I open my mouth to protest yet again. Oddly, though, no sound passes my lips. This whole proposal is ludicrous, and Joel's choice to use me as his teammate is even more so. Nonetheless, that long-forgotten determination that I began to feel in the gym the other day is awakening within me once more. Deep down, I have a burning desire to be on the court—and at Joel's side—fighting for this cause. Almost before I realize it, I say:

"Okay. I'll do it."

Joel nods. He then looks at Angela, Elmer, Lindi, the other administrators, and the reporters—and he states for all to hear:

"I'll be in touch to get the fundraiser scheduled. Danielle and I look forward to seeing you there."