Chapter 30

Lainey

Monday morning couldn’t come fast enough.

I wasn’t just antsy to get back to my normal clinical schedule. I also hoped getting back into my regular routine would help me decide how I felt about Sam’s near-confession. For the last few days, he’d been acting like nothing was wrong. I tried my best to match his energy, but I was rattled.

It was one thing to feel myself sliding towards the big “L.” Another entirely to hear it from him. As much as strapping myself into a serious, committed relationship with my coworker made me want to grab my heels and sprint in the opposite direction, the thought of doing it with Sam made me want to squeal and melt into a happy puddle. A conundrum. One that would have to wait till later.

I’d scheduled one final debrief with the PR teams and Caplan, and then I was back on the cardiac floor. If they tried to stop me, I’d bulldoze them all. I’d pushed for the earliest possible meeting time, impatient to start my normal rounds again. The hospital had that quiet, early-morning hush to it. I felt like I was breathing fresh air for the first time as I walked down the empty halls.

Caplan and Sturmond were already sitting at the conference table, huddled together and talking quietly. The presence of the latter made me do a double-take. The infuriating man had played a starring role in this media circus, nearly racking up as many interviews as me, riding the wave of interest my mother’s team had generated.

The last time I’d talked with him was when he’d taken the lead on insisting, strong-arming, and bullying me into doling my patient load out to other doctors, including Jones. I'd thought that would be the last of him, for now. I hadn’t invited him to this meeting, and his presence here set off alarm bells in my prefrontal cortex.

“Director Caplan. Doctor Sturmond.” I was tempted to call him mister, instead of Doctor. He was one of those obnoxious people who demanded that everyone use his title, even strangers. I wondered if he made his wife call him Doctor. Probably.

Yet, I refrained. If my fate was hanging in the balance, he was more than likely holding at least one of the strings. I had to play nice if I wanted to scrub in, and I did. Badly. All week, it had felt like part of me was missing. I wasn’t myself if I wasn’t in the OR.

“Doctor Carmichael! I thought our meeting didn’t start for another ten minutes?” The gold chain of Caplan’s Rolex clinked when he checked it. Sturmond shifted in his chair, looking at me like I was a child who had wandered out of my room past bedtime. I had the distinct impression I wasn’t welcome here, despite having a meeting scheduled in just a few minutes.

“I figured I’d pop in a little early.” Ten minutes wasn’t that early, was it? Caplan smiled stiffly.

“Well, I suppose we can dial in the comms team in a few. I doubt they’re ready for us yet.”

The whir of the air conditioning was the only sound as I set my laptop and tablet down. I straightened my blouse—my new uniform these days. I couldn’t wait to get into some scrubs. Caplan scrolled through his phone while Sturmond sat back and studied me like I was an insect pinned to a board. I cleared my throat.

“The interviews have gone well, I think.”

“Of course. You’re a natural.” Caplan smiled.

“I’m eager to get back to work today, though.”

His smile faltered. Sturmond audibly snorted. My stomach dropped.

“That’s what we were just discussing, actually. It may be in the hospital’s best interest for you to continue promotional work for just a bit longer.” Despite the gentleness of his words, Caplan sounded strained. The floor dropped out from under me. Surprise made me blunt.

“I thought the media campaign was ending?” I sounded pleading, even a little desperate. I hadn’t had an interview since Friday morning, and hadn’t heard from the PR team since then. Caplan shifted, gaze flickering off to the side. “Surely, it’s better for me to use my training to serve our patients.”

“Donations are up by eight percent since your little video got popular. It’s in the patients’ best interest for our program to be properly funded.” Sturmond crossed his arms, a grin I didn’t like stretching across his face. “You’ll be working with the PR team to announce our new partnership with your mother’s foundation. Besides, your fellowship is almost over, and your cases were all successfully handed off to other qualified doctors within our program. Think of it like a little vacation.”

The way he said it somehow implied that those other doctors handling my patients were more qualified than me. I knew it wasn’t true, but it was a punch in the gut, nonetheless. Rija and Tara had been quick to complain to me when a resident fumbled something with my patients, though I could hardly put any blame on my replacements. They were doing the best they could after my caseload was unceremoniously dumped in their laps.

A cell phone beeped on the table. The buzz of a pager followed immediately after. Caplan cursed, eyes darting between his two devices as he stood.

“Sorry, I need to take this. I’ll be right back.” He paused, looking from me to Sturmond, then back again. “Let’s…ah…pause our conversation here and pick it up when I’m back in just a moment.”

I glimpsed his face just before the door closed behind him. Guilt, apology, and warning all wrapped into one look. The closing of the door echoed around the room, sounding like the turning of a lock. Caplan was nervous about leaving me alone with big bully Sturmond. But he didn’t realize that he’d also left Sturmond alone with me.

I folded my hands neatly on the table, casting a critical eye over the man. Big, but not in the naturally burly way Sam was. He was overweight. The veins along his nose and pudginess of his cheeks hinted at regular overindulgence with his nightly wine or whiskey or whatever. He had beady little eyes that reminded me of his stupid little grandson. He was currently assessing me in the same way, except he looked like the cat who ate the cream.

Satisfied. Like he was watching a trap spring.

I took a deep breath. “So convenient, don’t you think? That your grandson was one of those ‘qualified doctors’ to handle my caseload? I bet those extra surgeries look great during attending interviews.”

He might be ready to spring a trap, but he had no idea who he was dealing with. I was Rebecca Carmichael and Ross Davis’s daughter, for God’s sake. I was the future; he was the past, and I was done with feeling the pressure of his loafer heel on my neck.

“Bold of you to hint at nepotism, Doctor Carmichael.” The way he emphasized my last name—my mother’s name—set my teeth on edge. “My grandson earned his position at this organization before I headed up the quality board. Fair and square. Robert belongs here.”

Sturmond had still been on a board at the time, moving through the ranks by spearheading fundraising for the new surgery center. But that wasn’t his point. We both knew that between Jones and myself, only one of us had entered Cedar the traditional way.

I wouldn’t be here without my mom on the sidelines, pulling strings. I tried to ignore the cold, squirming feeling in my chest that sprang up whenever I thought about how I’d abused my mother’s fame to cement my position here.

But that was then, and this was now.

“I’ve completed more surgeries than any other member of my cohort, both in residency and throughout my fellowship. I’ve earned my place, all by myself. Whether or not you bar me from the OR for the next three weeks, I will be an attending here.”

A smile slithered across his pudgy cheeks, Grinch-like.

“Bold of you to discuss personal merit when you’re fucking the hiring committee chair.”

Ice cascaded down my spine. “Wh…what?” How could he know? No one here knew. There was no way. I swallowed. Perhaps he was just making assumptions and accusations. Informed, maybe, given our recent viral video and the camaraderie there, but still baseless.

“Let’s not play games, Ms. Carmichael.” Doctor Carmichael, I wanted to scream. But something about the way he narrowed his eyes, enjoying the view of my horror-stricken face, held my tongue. “Do you really think HR records are completely confidential? I have a direct line on everything that happens within this building. Everything. Were you upset when he submitted the paperwork?”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My mouth was dry. Why didn’t I have any water? Why didn’t I have any air?

“Play dumb all you like. I have a paper trail. Fascinating timing, that you began a relationship with him just before interviews started.” He looked me up and down, like I was something disgusting stuck to his shoe. “Were you upset when he reported it? When he recused himself from the voting process? Gallant Doctor Reese. I’m sure you weren’t expecting that.”

“He what?” My head was spinning. I was hearing things. Or I wasn’t properly processing what I was hearing.

“You didn’t know?” Sturmond clicked his tongue. “Hell of a way to find out your boyfriend doesn’t have the sway you thought he did. You’ve unnecessarily opened your legs for a mediocre doctor with minimal power. A shame.”

He sipped his coffee, clearly having the time of his life with his little villain speech. Despite my pounding heart and racing thoughts, I prickled at the slight against Sam. “Doctor Reese is a talented surgeon and a gifted teacher. The resident and fellowship programs would fall apart without him.”

A phlegmy chortle rattled from his chest. “Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night. But we both know Reese could get hit by a bus tomorrow and everything would go right on turning, just the way it always has.”

I gasped, his casually cruel assessment penetrating the haze of adrenaline and confusion. Blood roared, filling my ears with a pounding, rushing noise that blocked out everything else. I could feel my face heating. “How dare y—”

He spoke over me. “I’m the one who keeps this place running. You think it was easy? Hand-delivering the money and the proposals for your precious new hospital? You think all these shiny new toys just fell out of the sky?” He swept his hands around, gesturing to the room and the halls beyond. “This is my legacy, Ms. Carmichael, and you are more useful to me in print than you are in the operating room.”

He rose. I was standing, too. I hadn’t realized it until now. My fingertips felt fuzzy. All of this felt fuzzy, like I was dreaming, or it was happening to someone else, but as Sturmond speared a finger towards me, I knew it was all too real.

“So that’s what you’ll do. Put on your makeup. Smile for the camera, and tell the world that you are fucking privileged to work for one of the best medical institutions in the country. Because you are.” His hand fell, slapping on the table. He leaned against it, crowding my space, despite the expanse of polished wood between us. “And maybe, if you do it well and keep the money rolling in, you’ll continue to work here.”

“What are you even saying?”

“You know exactly what I’m saying.” He settled his girth back in his chair. “Keep the interviews up, and the hiring committee won’t need to find out about your little affair. Imagine how poor Reese’s reputation would take a hit, fucking one of his precious fellows during the interview process. Gifted teacher, indeed. That would cut him out of the running for that program director position he’s been after, for sure.”

He lifted his brow at the irony. I felt sick. “You can’t do—”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. Don’t think for one second I don’t own this place. Robert will have a permanent role here. It’s up to you to decide if you want one, too.” His lids lowered, glowering at me. “Maybe that surgeon from Texas should round out the new hires. You’re familiar with Doctor McDaniels, aren’t you, Ms. Carmichael? A lot of rumors flew around after you made the sudden switch to Cedar. I wonder which is true? Was he really fucking you both, and you were too self-absorbed to see it?”

It was a final blow I wasn’t prepared for. I’d thought I had hidden my relationship with Sam. I thought I’d outrun the embarrassment of everything that had happened with Nate and Katie. But this man was single-handedly deconstructing my carefully crafted existence like a kid stomping on a sand castle.

Everything crumbled, my foundations washing away like grains of sand.

Sturmond knew… everything . It made me wonder who else knew why I’d ended up at Cedar. Did they know about Sam and me, too? While I was strutting around the halls, convinced I was at the top of the program, were they laughing behind my back, assuming, like Sturmond, that I was only with Reese to give myself another leg up? Using my influence to circumvent regular proceedings? Again?

My throat tightened. No wonder he looked at me like I was a worm. The complete picture of it all—my failed relationship, my flagrant use of my mother’s power to get into the program here, my new romance with Sam—it all made me look like a twittering, self-absorbed, opportunistic idiot.

And Sam…maybe he’d seen that. Maybe that was why he’d gone to HR. I only understood about half of that, but I wasn’t about to ask Sturmond. He didn’t need any more leverage.

I gathered my things with shaking hands. “I have to go,” I said, forcing the words around rising bile.

“You do that. I’ll let the PR ladies know to send over the new interview requests.”

I turned and fled. Maybe if I ran fast enough, I could outpace his smug grin and his small-minded assumptions. I collapsed into the elevators, a shuttering breath leaving my body. It sounded like a sob. Was I crying? I couldn’t tell.

My reflection stared back at me, pale and flushed at the same time, looking terrified and shaken. I gulped, watching the numbers tick down. I’d hit the button for the cardiac floor out of habit, but when the doors opened, a surge of panic nearly took me down. Who here knew about Sam, too? What must they all think of me?

I jabbed the button again. Not fast enough.

“Lainey! Wait.” Jones appeared, pressing the doors to stop them from closing. “I have to tell you…Shit. You’ve already seen my grandfather.” His fingers raked through his hair. It already stood on end. “Fuck. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I swear.”

“W-hat?” I croaked. I’d left my brain somewhere back on the executive floor.

Jones flinched. “I was jealous. It was stupid. After the video came out, I told my grandfather how much time you and Reese were spending together. I said…” His face twisted. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“You said what?” I breathed. I couldn’t trust my voice. I didn’t understand anything.

“That I wouldn’t be surprised if...you weren’t…” He looked up again, pained. “Lainey, I was just venting. With all the media attention, I was worried you’d make me look bad during interviews. I didn’t think he’d actually go after you like this.”

“You told him about me and Reese?”

“It was just some stupid comment. I never thought he’d actually look into it. Or that it would be…” true.

My stomach lurched. “I have to go.” My thoughts were racing too quickly for me to keep up with, swirling between Sam and Jones and Sturmond. I couldn’t catch my breath, didn’t want to risk looking weak like this in front of this man, my so-called colleague who had brought everything crashing down on my head.

“Lainey, I’m sorry.”

I gulped against rising bile, refusing to acknowledge the pained remorse on his face. “You should be.”

Jones stumbled back. The doors closed. I reminded myself to breathe as the elevators rose back up to the tenth floor.