Page 81 of Hearts on the Table
“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.”DoctorCarmichael, 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 beforeinterviews 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.”
