The Hookup Plan, page 6
What could she say? The nurses loved her.
“Have you heard anything about the meeting happening this morning?” Carmen asked. “Nurses weren’t invited. Even the ones who have been here for decades.”
“I heard the meeting is about Dr. Myers announcing his retirement,” Kia said. “His forced retirement. His wife is demanding it. And I think we all know why.”
Carmen plopped a hand on her hip. “What did I tell you about spreading rumors?”
“But is it a rumor if it’s true?” The intercom system buzzed, and a woman’s soft voice came through a speaker, asking for a nurse’s assistance. Kia pressed a button and replied, “I’ll be right there.”
As she pushed away from the desk, she said, “The redhead with the freckles that started in accounting last month? You haven’t seen her around, have you?” She held up her hands. “I’m just saying.”
“Go check on the patient,” Carmen said.
The minute Kia was out of earshot, London asked, “Any truth to Dr. Myers and the redhead?”
The charge nurse folded her arms over her ample chest. “Really, Dr. Kelley?”
Her clipped tone had London rushing to apologize, but before she could, Carmen said, “Of course Myers was slipping her the banana, but I doubt that’s what this meeting is about. Myers has been doing that kind of thing for years.” Carmen leaned in closer. “This is about money.”
London nodded. That slipping-the-banana reference had robbed her of speech.
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything else,” Carmen said in a terse whisper. “You’ll do the same?”
“Of course,” London said. “You know I’ve got the nurses’ back.”
Carmen gave her two solid pats on the shoulder before pivoting on her heel and marching back down the hallway.
London’s Apple Watch buzzed with a reminder that rounds would be starting in five minutes.
She rushed to her office, which was basically a broom closet that had been converted into an office. But she was one of only a few residents in this hospital who had been given their own space, so she didn’t complain.
She rummaged through the drawer where she kept her various props for making surgical rounds, retrieving a red clown nose; a lapel pin featuring Olaf, the talking snowman from Frozen; and her Spider-Man stethoscope sleeve. She attached the pin to her lab coat and stuck the rubber nose in her pocket, then gave her desk a once-over, making sure she had everything she needed just in case she didn’t have a chance to come back to her office before this morning’s much-speculated-about meeting. It was set to begin at eleven, which meant she needed to get to her rounds if she wanted to attend.
First on the list was Aubrey Charles. London had received the call to assist on the five-year-old’s emergency appendectomy last night as she was driving home from Drew’s hotel.
Don’t think about him.
The one thing she did not need right now was a reminder of Drew Sullivan and the things she’d allowed him and his talented tongue to do to her yesterday. Or a reminder of the things she’d done to him with her own tongue.
Great, now she was thinking about it.
“Glad to see you could join us, Dr. Kelley,” London heard the moment she rounded the corner.
Dr. Nigel Malone, the attending on-call for today, stood just outside Aubrey Charles’s room. Two first-year residents stood on either side of him, along with one of the registered nurses, Mya Townsend.
“Good morning,” London said to the team as a whole. She nodded at the attending. “Dr. Malone.”
He returned her nod with a sharp one of his own.
She’d learned when it came to this particular attending physician, it was better to just let his attitude roll off her back. London was convinced Nigel Malone spent his evenings studying TV medical dramas so he could emulate the one doctor who was always a jerk. The man was straight out of central casting.
“You assisted in the surgery last night, so you should run point,” Malone said.
“I’m happy to,” she answered. She pasted on her doctors aren’t scary smile and opened the door.
“Good morning,” she greeted as she entered the brightly colored room.
Each room on the pediatrics floor had a different theme. There was the Jungle, Under the Sea, the Circus, the Hot-Air Balloon, the Fairy Princess, and the Rodeo. It was something she had pushed for when she first started at County, after reading a study on the effects hospital aesthetics play in the recovery of young children. When the administration had balked at the cost, she’d offered to paint the rooms herself. Thankfully, they had coughed up the funds in the end because her artistic skills left much to be desired.
“How are we feeling?” London asked. She looked to Aubrey’s mother, whose bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothing spoke volumes. “Last night was a bit scary for both you and Mom, wasn’t it?” she asked. Aubrey’s blond pigtails bounced with her nod.
“I know,” London said as she slipped the stethoscope’s earpieces in her ears and held the chest piece to the girl’s abdomen. “But you have nothing to worry about because you made it through surgery like a champ.” She moved the drumhead around, listening for anything abnormal and breathing a sigh of relief when she found nothing.
“All sounds good to me,” London said as she slung the stethoscope around her neck. She reached into her pocket. “You’re not the only one who’s been feeling a bit under the weather. I can’t stop blowing my nose.” She twisted away and quickly popped on the clown nose. “Any idea what could be wrong?”
The little girl, along with one of the first-years, burst into giggles.
London gasped. “Are you laughing at me?”
Aubrey nodded emphatically. She pointed at London’s nose. “Can I have it?”
“Aubrey,” Ms. Charles admonished.
“Hey, if anyone can pull off this look, it’s you,” London said. She looked to the girl’s mother for permission, placing the foam nose over Aubrey’s after getting the okay. “Oh, yes, honey. This nose was made for you. Now, if you follow the nurse’s orders, we may be able to release you by tomorrow morning.” She wiggled the nose.
“That soon?” Ms. Charles asked.
“Yes,” Dr. Malone answered.
Because of course he had to assert his authority. London suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
“That wouldn’t be the case if Aubrey’s appendix had ruptured before we could take it out,” London said. “But Mom got you here just in time. High five to Mom.” London held her hand up to the girl’s mother. She turned to Aubrey. “And to you, because you are a rock star. I’ll be back in to check on you this afternoon,” she said with a wink.
She turned to leave, but stopped at Ms. Charles’s feebly uttered “Uh…Dr. Kelley?”
All five members of the medical staff looked back in unison.
“Yes?” London answered.
Dr. Malone cleared his throat. “Dr. Kelley, we have to continue with rounds.”
“Please go ahead,” London said. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”
His thin lips became nearly nonexistent as they pulled into a tight frown, but he only nodded and led the others out of the room.
“I’m sorry,” Ms. Charles said, peering nervously at Malone’s back.
“No worries at all,” London said. “How can I help you?”
“First, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for Aubrey last night. You literally saved her life.”
“You saved her by getting her here in time,” London countered. “Thank you for not trying to diagnose her yourself with Google.”
Her cheeks turned crimson. “I did Google her symptoms first,” she said. “It’s how I knew things were serious.” She bit her bottom lip as she shot a quick glance at her daughter. “You’re probably way too busy to concern yourself with this, but do you have any idea how much all of this will cost? I make too much to qualify for Medicaid, but my health insurance’s deductible is sixty-five hundred dollars.”
“That is the last thing you should be worrying about,” London said.
“Well, it’s all I can think about.”
London covered her hand. “The hospital will work with you. I’ll talk to someone in accounting, if necessary. Right now, your focus should be on Aubrey and her recovery. And I know it’s difficult, but try to get a little sleep. You can’t care for Aubrey unless you first take care of yourself.”
“That’s such a nice way of telling me I have bags under my eyes.” The woman laughed.
London squeezed her hand. “You’ve been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours, but everything will work out.”
As she exited the room, London released a string of curse words under her breath. How many worried parents had she comforted over these past five years whose concern about going bankrupt was as virulent as their worry over their sick children? It was unacceptable for a country as wealthy as this one to have any person stressing about hospital bills.
London caught up to the team and continued rounds, visiting three more patients on the main wing and another two in the PICU. She finished just in time for her ten a.m. hernioplasty.
It took longer than usual for the patient to respond to general anesthesia—the one thing she could not control in the operating room—so the surgery ran over by nearly twenty minutes. After leaving instructions with the post-op team, she shucked off her PPE and deposited it in the discard bin for personal protective equipment on her way out the door. She quickly went through her ritualistic post-surgery cleanup and then took off for the first floor, where today’s meeting was being held.
London slipped in just as Dr. Coleman started to speak. The room was packed with people from every department, eager to hear news about the fate of the hospital. He began with his usual monologue about the state of public medicine and the important role it played in the well-being of Austin’s residents.
So why in the hell were you considering selling this public hospital to a private company?
The question was on the tip of London’s tongue, but she refrained from saying anything just yet. One of her colleagues had bet her that she couldn’t get through five minutes of a meeting without playing devil’s advocate, so London had made it a personal challenge to wait at least ten minutes before speaking up.
She looked around the room for Aleshia Williams, the head of radiology and her closest confidant here at the hospital. As her gaze roamed over those seated at the oval table in the center of the conference room, she stopped short and squinted in confusion.
It took several seconds to register that she was indeed looking at Drew Sullivan. He stared back at her, his face expressionless except for his eyes, which were piercing. Knowing.
What in the hell was he doing here?
“News of a potential sale of the hospital has been the poorest-kept secret in town,” Dr. Coleman was saying. “The rumors were never confirmed or denied by anyone on the board, but I can tell you now that, yes, we have been discussing selling the hospital to a private firm. There are a number of factors the board of directors and hospital administration have weighed these past few months, and we’ve come to a decision.”
London held her breath.
“Before we take the next steps, we’ve decided to bring in consultants to audit our finances and procedures so that we can have a clearer picture of what we’re dealing with,” Dr. Coleman continued. “And this is the gentleman who will help us get to that clearer picture.”
Dr. Coleman turned in his seat and motioned to Drew, who sat a few chairs down from him.
“I would like you all to meet Drew Sullivan. Drew is a partner in Trident Health Management Systems, which specializes in revenue generation, overhauling information technology, and reallocating resources so they are used to the hospital’s best advantage.”
That son of a bitch.
London started to speak, but a familiar voice beat her to it.
“So, what does this mean regarding the sale of the hospital? Is that off the table?” Aleshia asked from where she stood in the corner of the conference room. She was on the same side of the room as London, which was why she hadn’t seen her.
“I want to caution everyone that Trident’s involvement doesn’t mean a sale is imminent,” Dr. Coleman said. “Nor does it mean that it is out of the question. We’re still in the assessment stage, and we will be deciding our next steps once Mr. Sullivan and his team complete their work. The board of directors is asking for the staff’s support. You may not realize it, but this is a compromise. Half the board voted for an outright sale.”
There were murmurs throughout the conference room.
London was so mad she could barely see straight. She crossed her arms over her chest and squeezed them tight in an effort to curb the anxiety pressing against her skin. Her head started to throb at her temples, a sure sign she needed to calm down.
“Trident will be here for the next three to four weeks. Trina Erickson from HR will be contacting many of you over the next few days to schedule an interview time with members of the audit team. We expect full participation and expect honest, unbiased answers from our team.”
The hint of reprimand London heard in Coleman’s voice went down her spine like a cheese grater. If there was one thing she could not abide, it was that paternalistic bullshit. They were professionals and adults, and not a damn one of them needed Coleman to play the role of daddy. She didn’t put up with that shit from her own father.
“That’s it for now,” Dr. Coleman said. “When you run into members of the Trident team around the hospital, give them a warm Texas welcome.”
London knew one member of the team that she wanted to run into. With her Mini Cooper.
The ancient relic of a beeper she carried—okay, she would admit they could use help in the technology department—went off, paging her to the PICU, where her hernioplasty had just been wheeled in for recovery. She waited a second, just long enough to catch Drew’s attention, and pointed her middle finger at him before leaving the conference room.
7
Drew’s leg bobbed nervously underneath the table as he waited for the man next to him to finish opining on the necessity of raising insurance premiums on a yearly basis so that people didn’t get too comfortable. Drew wished he could rip into this asshole. How had someone like this even made it to a public hospital’s board of directors?
A better question: How had he been roped into this conversation?
He’d tried to make a getaway the moment the meeting was over, but Dr. Coleman had pulled him into a discussion with two members of the board. He’d kept his eyes on London long enough to see her flip him her middle finger, and then she was gone.
Blindsiding her like this was a dick move. Even if he hadn’t meant to blindside her.
He should have told her that he would be working at County the moment she mentioned the hospital back at the reunion. He’d started to tell her later when they were in his hotel room, but he’d gotten distracted by the sight of her stripping out of that cherry-red jumpsuit.
It was no excuse. He’d had ample opportunity over these past couple of days to disclose that he was in charge of the company that would be conducting the audit. Would she have been pissed? Yes. Hell yes. But he should have been straight with her regardless of the potential backlash.
He needed to find her. He owed her an explanation.
Drew pushed his chair back from the table.
“I appreciate the introduction to Travis County Hospital, gentlemen, but I need to make sure the folks from my team are getting settled into their various spaces around the facility. We have another meeting scheduled tomorrow, at Dr. Coleman’s request. I will be able to fill you all in on everything you need to know then.”
Remembering tomorrow’s meeting reminded Drew that he needed to discuss time allocation with Dr. Coleman. The man had already scheduled three meetings for their first week. Drew planned to curb this practice pretty damn quick. His disdain for useless meetings was well-known throughout Trident and the Meacham Group, the hedge fund where he’d worked prior to starting this venture. If it couldn’t be handled via email, it could wait until the weekly office-wide meeting. The once weekly office-wide meeting.
Drew stopped at the hospital directory near the information desk, then boarded the elevator and rode it to the third floor. It let him off just outside the nurses’ station. He went to the desk only to find it empty.
“Can I help you?”
He turned to find a tall Black woman in blue hospital scrubs marching toward him. The scowl on her face declared that she was too busy to deal with anyone’s bullshit.
“Can I help you?” she repeated as she approached.
“Ah, yes, I’m looking for Dr. London Kelley,” Drew said.
“She’s with a patient.” The woman scrutinized the identification badge on his lapel.
Drew stuck his hand out to her. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Drew Sullivan with Trident Health Management Systems. We’re conducting an audit of the hospital.”
Her expression didn’t change. Nor did she accept his handshake.
Well, damn. He guessed word had already traveled around the hospital that he was in league with the enemy.
“I’ll handle this, Carmen.”
Drew twisted around at the sound of London’s voice. She marched with the same sense of purpose as the older nurse, but she somehow made it look sexy as hell. It should be a rule that no doctor should look so damn good wearing hospital scrubs.
Drew nodded at the nurse. “Thank you, Carmen.”
“That’s Nurse Francis,” the woman answered. She hitched her chin at London. “She’s the only one who gets to call me Carmen.”
“I see you’re making new friends,” London said. She grabbed him by the arm. “This way.”
Yeah, she was pissed.
Drew followed her down the opposite hallway. Once they reached the second-to-last door, London opened it and waited for him to enter the tiny room ahead of her. The moment she shut the door, she whaled on him.
“You are a lying son of a bitch, Drew Sullivan.”
“I know I should have told you.”
“Have you heard anything about the meeting happening this morning?” Carmen asked. “Nurses weren’t invited. Even the ones who have been here for decades.”
“I heard the meeting is about Dr. Myers announcing his retirement,” Kia said. “His forced retirement. His wife is demanding it. And I think we all know why.”
Carmen plopped a hand on her hip. “What did I tell you about spreading rumors?”
“But is it a rumor if it’s true?” The intercom system buzzed, and a woman’s soft voice came through a speaker, asking for a nurse’s assistance. Kia pressed a button and replied, “I’ll be right there.”
As she pushed away from the desk, she said, “The redhead with the freckles that started in accounting last month? You haven’t seen her around, have you?” She held up her hands. “I’m just saying.”
“Go check on the patient,” Carmen said.
The minute Kia was out of earshot, London asked, “Any truth to Dr. Myers and the redhead?”
The charge nurse folded her arms over her ample chest. “Really, Dr. Kelley?”
Her clipped tone had London rushing to apologize, but before she could, Carmen said, “Of course Myers was slipping her the banana, but I doubt that’s what this meeting is about. Myers has been doing that kind of thing for years.” Carmen leaned in closer. “This is about money.”
London nodded. That slipping-the-banana reference had robbed her of speech.
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything else,” Carmen said in a terse whisper. “You’ll do the same?”
“Of course,” London said. “You know I’ve got the nurses’ back.”
Carmen gave her two solid pats on the shoulder before pivoting on her heel and marching back down the hallway.
London’s Apple Watch buzzed with a reminder that rounds would be starting in five minutes.
She rushed to her office, which was basically a broom closet that had been converted into an office. But she was one of only a few residents in this hospital who had been given their own space, so she didn’t complain.
She rummaged through the drawer where she kept her various props for making surgical rounds, retrieving a red clown nose; a lapel pin featuring Olaf, the talking snowman from Frozen; and her Spider-Man stethoscope sleeve. She attached the pin to her lab coat and stuck the rubber nose in her pocket, then gave her desk a once-over, making sure she had everything she needed just in case she didn’t have a chance to come back to her office before this morning’s much-speculated-about meeting. It was set to begin at eleven, which meant she needed to get to her rounds if she wanted to attend.
First on the list was Aubrey Charles. London had received the call to assist on the five-year-old’s emergency appendectomy last night as she was driving home from Drew’s hotel.
Don’t think about him.
The one thing she did not need right now was a reminder of Drew Sullivan and the things she’d allowed him and his talented tongue to do to her yesterday. Or a reminder of the things she’d done to him with her own tongue.
Great, now she was thinking about it.
“Glad to see you could join us, Dr. Kelley,” London heard the moment she rounded the corner.
Dr. Nigel Malone, the attending on-call for today, stood just outside Aubrey Charles’s room. Two first-year residents stood on either side of him, along with one of the registered nurses, Mya Townsend.
“Good morning,” London said to the team as a whole. She nodded at the attending. “Dr. Malone.”
He returned her nod with a sharp one of his own.
She’d learned when it came to this particular attending physician, it was better to just let his attitude roll off her back. London was convinced Nigel Malone spent his evenings studying TV medical dramas so he could emulate the one doctor who was always a jerk. The man was straight out of central casting.
“You assisted in the surgery last night, so you should run point,” Malone said.
“I’m happy to,” she answered. She pasted on her doctors aren’t scary smile and opened the door.
“Good morning,” she greeted as she entered the brightly colored room.
Each room on the pediatrics floor had a different theme. There was the Jungle, Under the Sea, the Circus, the Hot-Air Balloon, the Fairy Princess, and the Rodeo. It was something she had pushed for when she first started at County, after reading a study on the effects hospital aesthetics play in the recovery of young children. When the administration had balked at the cost, she’d offered to paint the rooms herself. Thankfully, they had coughed up the funds in the end because her artistic skills left much to be desired.
“How are we feeling?” London asked. She looked to Aubrey’s mother, whose bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothing spoke volumes. “Last night was a bit scary for both you and Mom, wasn’t it?” she asked. Aubrey’s blond pigtails bounced with her nod.
“I know,” London said as she slipped the stethoscope’s earpieces in her ears and held the chest piece to the girl’s abdomen. “But you have nothing to worry about because you made it through surgery like a champ.” She moved the drumhead around, listening for anything abnormal and breathing a sigh of relief when she found nothing.
“All sounds good to me,” London said as she slung the stethoscope around her neck. She reached into her pocket. “You’re not the only one who’s been feeling a bit under the weather. I can’t stop blowing my nose.” She twisted away and quickly popped on the clown nose. “Any idea what could be wrong?”
The little girl, along with one of the first-years, burst into giggles.
London gasped. “Are you laughing at me?”
Aubrey nodded emphatically. She pointed at London’s nose. “Can I have it?”
“Aubrey,” Ms. Charles admonished.
“Hey, if anyone can pull off this look, it’s you,” London said. She looked to the girl’s mother for permission, placing the foam nose over Aubrey’s after getting the okay. “Oh, yes, honey. This nose was made for you. Now, if you follow the nurse’s orders, we may be able to release you by tomorrow morning.” She wiggled the nose.
“That soon?” Ms. Charles asked.
“Yes,” Dr. Malone answered.
Because of course he had to assert his authority. London suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
“That wouldn’t be the case if Aubrey’s appendix had ruptured before we could take it out,” London said. “But Mom got you here just in time. High five to Mom.” London held her hand up to the girl’s mother. She turned to Aubrey. “And to you, because you are a rock star. I’ll be back in to check on you this afternoon,” she said with a wink.
She turned to leave, but stopped at Ms. Charles’s feebly uttered “Uh…Dr. Kelley?”
All five members of the medical staff looked back in unison.
“Yes?” London answered.
Dr. Malone cleared his throat. “Dr. Kelley, we have to continue with rounds.”
“Please go ahead,” London said. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”
His thin lips became nearly nonexistent as they pulled into a tight frown, but he only nodded and led the others out of the room.
“I’m sorry,” Ms. Charles said, peering nervously at Malone’s back.
“No worries at all,” London said. “How can I help you?”
“First, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for Aubrey last night. You literally saved her life.”
“You saved her by getting her here in time,” London countered. “Thank you for not trying to diagnose her yourself with Google.”
Her cheeks turned crimson. “I did Google her symptoms first,” she said. “It’s how I knew things were serious.” She bit her bottom lip as she shot a quick glance at her daughter. “You’re probably way too busy to concern yourself with this, but do you have any idea how much all of this will cost? I make too much to qualify for Medicaid, but my health insurance’s deductible is sixty-five hundred dollars.”
“That is the last thing you should be worrying about,” London said.
“Well, it’s all I can think about.”
London covered her hand. “The hospital will work with you. I’ll talk to someone in accounting, if necessary. Right now, your focus should be on Aubrey and her recovery. And I know it’s difficult, but try to get a little sleep. You can’t care for Aubrey unless you first take care of yourself.”
“That’s such a nice way of telling me I have bags under my eyes.” The woman laughed.
London squeezed her hand. “You’ve been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours, but everything will work out.”
As she exited the room, London released a string of curse words under her breath. How many worried parents had she comforted over these past five years whose concern about going bankrupt was as virulent as their worry over their sick children? It was unacceptable for a country as wealthy as this one to have any person stressing about hospital bills.
London caught up to the team and continued rounds, visiting three more patients on the main wing and another two in the PICU. She finished just in time for her ten a.m. hernioplasty.
It took longer than usual for the patient to respond to general anesthesia—the one thing she could not control in the operating room—so the surgery ran over by nearly twenty minutes. After leaving instructions with the post-op team, she shucked off her PPE and deposited it in the discard bin for personal protective equipment on her way out the door. She quickly went through her ritualistic post-surgery cleanup and then took off for the first floor, where today’s meeting was being held.
London slipped in just as Dr. Coleman started to speak. The room was packed with people from every department, eager to hear news about the fate of the hospital. He began with his usual monologue about the state of public medicine and the important role it played in the well-being of Austin’s residents.
So why in the hell were you considering selling this public hospital to a private company?
The question was on the tip of London’s tongue, but she refrained from saying anything just yet. One of her colleagues had bet her that she couldn’t get through five minutes of a meeting without playing devil’s advocate, so London had made it a personal challenge to wait at least ten minutes before speaking up.
She looked around the room for Aleshia Williams, the head of radiology and her closest confidant here at the hospital. As her gaze roamed over those seated at the oval table in the center of the conference room, she stopped short and squinted in confusion.
It took several seconds to register that she was indeed looking at Drew Sullivan. He stared back at her, his face expressionless except for his eyes, which were piercing. Knowing.
What in the hell was he doing here?
“News of a potential sale of the hospital has been the poorest-kept secret in town,” Dr. Coleman was saying. “The rumors were never confirmed or denied by anyone on the board, but I can tell you now that, yes, we have been discussing selling the hospital to a private firm. There are a number of factors the board of directors and hospital administration have weighed these past few months, and we’ve come to a decision.”
London held her breath.
“Before we take the next steps, we’ve decided to bring in consultants to audit our finances and procedures so that we can have a clearer picture of what we’re dealing with,” Dr. Coleman continued. “And this is the gentleman who will help us get to that clearer picture.”
Dr. Coleman turned in his seat and motioned to Drew, who sat a few chairs down from him.
“I would like you all to meet Drew Sullivan. Drew is a partner in Trident Health Management Systems, which specializes in revenue generation, overhauling information technology, and reallocating resources so they are used to the hospital’s best advantage.”
That son of a bitch.
London started to speak, but a familiar voice beat her to it.
“So, what does this mean regarding the sale of the hospital? Is that off the table?” Aleshia asked from where she stood in the corner of the conference room. She was on the same side of the room as London, which was why she hadn’t seen her.
“I want to caution everyone that Trident’s involvement doesn’t mean a sale is imminent,” Dr. Coleman said. “Nor does it mean that it is out of the question. We’re still in the assessment stage, and we will be deciding our next steps once Mr. Sullivan and his team complete their work. The board of directors is asking for the staff’s support. You may not realize it, but this is a compromise. Half the board voted for an outright sale.”
There were murmurs throughout the conference room.
London was so mad she could barely see straight. She crossed her arms over her chest and squeezed them tight in an effort to curb the anxiety pressing against her skin. Her head started to throb at her temples, a sure sign she needed to calm down.
“Trident will be here for the next three to four weeks. Trina Erickson from HR will be contacting many of you over the next few days to schedule an interview time with members of the audit team. We expect full participation and expect honest, unbiased answers from our team.”
The hint of reprimand London heard in Coleman’s voice went down her spine like a cheese grater. If there was one thing she could not abide, it was that paternalistic bullshit. They were professionals and adults, and not a damn one of them needed Coleman to play the role of daddy. She didn’t put up with that shit from her own father.
“That’s it for now,” Dr. Coleman said. “When you run into members of the Trident team around the hospital, give them a warm Texas welcome.”
London knew one member of the team that she wanted to run into. With her Mini Cooper.
The ancient relic of a beeper she carried—okay, she would admit they could use help in the technology department—went off, paging her to the PICU, where her hernioplasty had just been wheeled in for recovery. She waited a second, just long enough to catch Drew’s attention, and pointed her middle finger at him before leaving the conference room.
7
Drew’s leg bobbed nervously underneath the table as he waited for the man next to him to finish opining on the necessity of raising insurance premiums on a yearly basis so that people didn’t get too comfortable. Drew wished he could rip into this asshole. How had someone like this even made it to a public hospital’s board of directors?
A better question: How had he been roped into this conversation?
He’d tried to make a getaway the moment the meeting was over, but Dr. Coleman had pulled him into a discussion with two members of the board. He’d kept his eyes on London long enough to see her flip him her middle finger, and then she was gone.
Blindsiding her like this was a dick move. Even if he hadn’t meant to blindside her.
He should have told her that he would be working at County the moment she mentioned the hospital back at the reunion. He’d started to tell her later when they were in his hotel room, but he’d gotten distracted by the sight of her stripping out of that cherry-red jumpsuit.
It was no excuse. He’d had ample opportunity over these past couple of days to disclose that he was in charge of the company that would be conducting the audit. Would she have been pissed? Yes. Hell yes. But he should have been straight with her regardless of the potential backlash.
He needed to find her. He owed her an explanation.
Drew pushed his chair back from the table.
“I appreciate the introduction to Travis County Hospital, gentlemen, but I need to make sure the folks from my team are getting settled into their various spaces around the facility. We have another meeting scheduled tomorrow, at Dr. Coleman’s request. I will be able to fill you all in on everything you need to know then.”
Remembering tomorrow’s meeting reminded Drew that he needed to discuss time allocation with Dr. Coleman. The man had already scheduled three meetings for their first week. Drew planned to curb this practice pretty damn quick. His disdain for useless meetings was well-known throughout Trident and the Meacham Group, the hedge fund where he’d worked prior to starting this venture. If it couldn’t be handled via email, it could wait until the weekly office-wide meeting. The once weekly office-wide meeting.
Drew stopped at the hospital directory near the information desk, then boarded the elevator and rode it to the third floor. It let him off just outside the nurses’ station. He went to the desk only to find it empty.
“Can I help you?”
He turned to find a tall Black woman in blue hospital scrubs marching toward him. The scowl on her face declared that she was too busy to deal with anyone’s bullshit.
“Can I help you?” she repeated as she approached.
“Ah, yes, I’m looking for Dr. London Kelley,” Drew said.
“She’s with a patient.” The woman scrutinized the identification badge on his lapel.
Drew stuck his hand out to her. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Drew Sullivan with Trident Health Management Systems. We’re conducting an audit of the hospital.”
Her expression didn’t change. Nor did she accept his handshake.
Well, damn. He guessed word had already traveled around the hospital that he was in league with the enemy.
“I’ll handle this, Carmen.”
Drew twisted around at the sound of London’s voice. She marched with the same sense of purpose as the older nurse, but she somehow made it look sexy as hell. It should be a rule that no doctor should look so damn good wearing hospital scrubs.
Drew nodded at the nurse. “Thank you, Carmen.”
“That’s Nurse Francis,” the woman answered. She hitched her chin at London. “She’s the only one who gets to call me Carmen.”
“I see you’re making new friends,” London said. She grabbed him by the arm. “This way.”
Yeah, she was pissed.
Drew followed her down the opposite hallway. Once they reached the second-to-last door, London opened it and waited for him to enter the tiny room ahead of her. The moment she shut the door, she whaled on him.
“You are a lying son of a bitch, Drew Sullivan.”
“I know I should have told you.”
