Page 82 of Hearts on the Table
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.
Chapter 31
