Page 60 of Careless Whisper

“I’ve got a guy in Tribeca,” Grandpa said.

Faye waved him off. “I don’t like him. He’s too…blunt. No violence unless it’s poetic.”

“Maybe we should hear what happened first,” Uncle Jason suggested.

So, while I drank champagne, ate canapes of foie gras with pickled onions, and was coddled within an inch of my life, I spilled thetea. I wasn’t surprised to find that my mother had already gossiped about what I’d told her and Papa in Mexico, so my story was about what had just happened at Harper Memorial,andI also told themeverythingabout Elias, keeping the on-call roomincidentPG-13.

“I’m going to just buy fucking Harper Memorial, and you can run the whole damn place, the fuckers,” Uncle Jason bellowed.

G’Mum shook her head in disgust. “Kurt,” she called out, and when he appeared as if by magic, she declared, “Weneedtequila.”

“Yes, Mrs. Lancaster.”

“The Casa Azul,” Grandpa added.

“Maybe some more water before everyone gets alcohol poisoning,” I suggested.

“Yes, Miss Regina.” Kurt now looked amused.

“I’m going to take a shower, and we’re going to figure out next steps,” Uncle Jason ordered. “Dad, maybe we should ask Roy to join us.”

“We don’t need a lawyer,” I cried out.

Roy Channing was the Lancaster family lawyer and general fixer. Yeah, my grandparents were those people—the ones who had a legal fixer.

Uncle Jason just gave me a pat on the head and left.

“What’s he doing here?” I asked.

“He’s renovating,” G’Mum explained and then smiled widely at Kurt, who came back with a bottle of Casa Azul and four shot glasses, slices of lime, and sea salt.

Grandpa filled three of the glasses.

G’Mum raised hers. “To having our Reggie home.”

We drank the sipping tequila like a shot. After two of those, we were all mellow, and I’d eaten what felt like my own weight in foie gras.

“I trained your mother to recognize sharks in society, so she just danced around them,” G’Mum said thoughtfully. “But you, my darling, got that steel spine from your father. Ignacio would’ve walked into that OR and dragged that surgeon out by his stethoscope.”

I laughed. “He almost did. So did Mama.”

“You were right to leave,” she assured me, her voice sharp. “Don’t let them gaslight you into thinking otherwise.”

“I’m just so tired,” I admitted. “Of fighting. Of proving myself, of not having a seat at the table.”

“You don’t have to prove a thing, baby girl.” Grandpa wrapped an arm around me.

“You’re a Lancaster. Youarethe motherfuckingtable,” Uncle Jason added as he came into the parlor, freshly showered.

I blinked hard against the tears.

“Can you have someone put together a report on this Dr. Graham and Dr. Loring,” Grandpa ordered Uncle Jason, who assured him that he’d already got the ball rolling on that with his investigator.

My phone beepedagain. It had been doing that a lot.

“Is that doctor trying to reach out to you?” G’Mum queried.

“I don’t think so. I blocked him.”

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