CHAPTER FOUR

Mason

"I can't believe you would go above my head like this," I hiss at Winnie across the reception desk. I'm trying to control the volume of my voice, but it comes out louder than I expect it to. I left my coffee on the counter at Thistle + Thorne and I don't even regret it. As soon as I heard that pretentious woman utter the words ‘I'll be starting at the clinic,' I lost all sense of rational thought. Goddammit. I had let myself think she was attractive. The way those tight jeans hugged her curves, her full pink lips pursing at me. I paid for her order to be nice. Who the fuck carries change around?

"I didn't go above your head. I've been telling you straight to your face that we need to hire some more help around here. Last we talked, I showed you the resumes of the candidates I contacted." Winnie doesn't look up from the paperwork she's straightening out on the desk. For some reason, her nonchalance fuels my anger even more, that Winnie is just so unbothered by this betrayal.

"You just conveniently left out the part where you went ahead and hired someone without my approval. Last time we discussed this, I said there was no way I was hiring someone new for the clinic. I told you I can handle it," I mutter through gritted teeth.

"You've been saying that for the last three months, and it's only getting worse." Winnie taps the stack of papers on the desk to shuffle them into alignment before placing them in one of the patient's charts. "I didn't have another option."

"There was only one option, Winnie. Let me handle it ." I growl. "You can't go around hiring people; this isn't your clinic." I hear the sting of the words as they leave my mouth. Winnie has just as much, if not more, of a claim to this place as I do. Just because she's been around longer, doesn't mean she can disrespect my authority. I don't need to be parented here.

"That's where you're wrong, Mason."Winnie clicks her tongue.

I bite back the snarky response I have ready on the tip of mine. I don't enjoy being patronized.

"Jack gave me some management power, including hiring power, before he transferred everything over to you."

I reel at the comment, which comes like a punch to the gut, the truth that they had both been hiding hitting me like a freight train. My father had given hiring power to Winnie. He had handed over the clinic to me before he passed, telling me he had faith in me and that he wouldn't entrust the clinic to anyone else. The words he uttered to me on his deathbed now have no actual weight; they've lost all meaning. All because he left out one crucial detail. He didn't trust me with his clinic, not fully. The only reason my father would have given Winnie hiring powers is if he knew deep down that I would fail miserably at managing the clinic on my own.

My chest feels like it's going to cave in and suffocate me. My father doubted me so much that he created a safety net without me knowing. Because I wouldn't be able to handle it. The great Jack Landry had predicted that this day would come. He anticipated I would fail.

"Don't take it personally, Mason," Winnie starts, but it's impossible not to take something like this personally. She knows what a sensitive topic this is and how strained my relationship with my father had become. I resent my dad for so many things, but this tops it.

"How can I not—" I steel my voice against the crack that is about to threaten the tough exterior I work so hard to maintain. "How can I not take offence when my father, and now you too, are undermining my ability to run this place?"

"It's not about your ability to keep the clinic afloat, Mason. Your father knew you were facing challenges that he never had when he opened it. The town has almost doubled in size in the last two years." Winnie's expression softens into something that looks like pity, and it makes me want to scream. "You're not known for being willing to accept help when you need it. He knew how stubborn you can be. This was his way of making sure you didn't stick your head so far in the sand that you couldn't come back up for air."

"I don't accept help because I don't need it." My tone is clipped, and I know Winnie doesn't deserve this kind of treatment. This is my father's wrongdoing, although Winnie sure as hell didn't make it better. I survived med school, my mother's death, and now my father's too, with no help from anyone. I picked up the pieces and looked after my brothers at ten years old. What makes Winnie think I can't take care of the clinic myself too?

"It's not a weakness to accept help, Mason. And you may not agree with me, but I promise you, once you meet Ally, you'll be glad to have her around."

Ally Wells. Winnie's number one candidate and the number one ditz who can barely place a lunch order. If her ability to make clinical decisions is as good as her ability to pick a goddamned sandwich off a menu, I doubt she'll be any help at all.

"Did you at least consider consulting me about who I'd want to hire?" I know she tried to get my opinion, when she smacked the stack of resumes on my desk. But was that before or after she had already told Ally she had the job? "Instead, you go out and hire the first airhead that walks through the door that you think is sweet ?"

"Ally has a good head on her shoulders."

"I don't care if she's Florence fucking Nightingale." My voice rises another decibel, and I force it lower, knowing I have to get control over it before I'm yelling at Winnie. As angry as I am, I've never raised my voice at her like this. "I don't want some uppity, big city nurse coming in here and waltzing around like she knows more about how to run the place than I do."

Winnie's eyes dart over my shoulder, prompting me to turn around and see Ally, standing in the doorway of the clinic.

"God help us …" Winnie mutters under her breath, so muted that only I can hear it. If only I had controlled my volume earlier, I wouldn't be standing here like a jackass with my foot hanging out of my mouth.

I watch in horror as Ally's soft, plump lips form a shocked and confused kind of scowl. I have to give her some credit; she sure has her looks going for her. I hadn't noticed how blue her eyes were at the coffee shop. As she approaches me now, I notice how they sparkle with a thin circle of green around her pupils. If I wasn't so opposed to Ally and her very presence here, I might have let myself entertain the idea of asking her out. Her tight little body is begging me to throw her around and have a little fun. It's been a long while since I gave a girl a second thought.

A flutter ripples through my chest at the sight of how she's smiling at me now. Either that or it's nerves, as I envision the slap on the hand I'll be getting from Winnie later.

"Hi, I'm Ally. Ally Wells." She falters a bit as she goes to extend her hand. She's juggling an oversized tote in one hand and her latte with two honeys in the other. She shifts the paper to-go cup to her left hand, and I notice the massive rock she's sporting on her finger. I can't not notice it. The way the diamond shimmers in the light is almost blinding. She clumsily extends her hand to shake mine and I take it tentatively. It's small, soft, and delicate. If I were choosing a ring for it, I would go with something much more demure. Something elegant and classy.

From the way she's looking at me, I wonder if I've somehow won the dickhead lottery of the year. Maybe she didn't catch me shit talking back there. Returning her grin, I search her eyes for any sign that she already hates me for being so callous. The search ends abruptly.

"I'm the uppity nurse from the big city who has come to take over your clinic. The turkey sandwich was great, by the way." Ally finishes introducing herself, her voice cheerful, her smile never faltering. And we're off to a great start. Whatever. Who cares about Ally's opinion of me? Just because Winnie hired her, and apparently, she's here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future, does not mean that I have to enjoy it. Or be her friend, for that matter. She's a colleague and nothing more. I can be professional, keep our conversation to the bare minimum while we're at the clinic.

"I take it you two have already met," Winnie says, the corner of her mouth lifting into a mischievous grin.

I roll my eyes, dropping Ally's hand. She puts it back down at her side but doesn't appear awkward or taken aback. She's standing there staring at me, that infuriating little smile on her lips. I want to wipe it right off them. I want to do a lot of things to Ally that I don't care to admit.