Page 10 of Remedy: Love In Scrubs
You sure?I thought.
“Well, Aries. Mr. Simpson’s attorney has revoked the release enabling you to receive Mr. Simpson’s records. I can’t obtain them without issuing a subpoena, and I can’t do that until a lawsuit is filed.”
“I really don’t want a lawsuit filed.”
I agreed with Aries, but something in my gut said we didn’t have all of the information. “I know, but if we settle without reviewing every piece of paper available for review makes me uneasy. Right now, there’s no case, and I say we call their bluff.”
“Calling a bluff could potentially blow up my career, Skylar.”
"Aries, we need to be strategic about this. If we show weakness now by settling immediately, it sets a precedent that you can be pushed around."
I watched his jaw clench, and for a moment, I wondered if he was going to argue with me again. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face.
"You're right," he said, surprising me. "But I need you to understand something, Skylar. My reputation is everything in this field. One whisper of malpractice, even if it's bullshit, and my referrals dry up. My athletes start looking elsewhere. Everything I've worked for could disappear."
There was something vulnerable in his voice that caught me off guard. This wasn't the cocky, arrogant surgeon I'd been dealing with. This was a man who was genuinely scared of losing everything he'd built.
“There are going to be whisperers. That’s what these personal injury and malpractice attorneys do—they instill fear. However, we will not cower. If I need to, I will hold a press conference and bury opposing counsel, but I don’t want to do that too soon and look like the big bully, trying to stifle the voice of the injured. That could backfire. I know it seems that calling their bluff seems to be reactive and not proactive, but if they have a legitimate case, they'll file. If they don't, they'll keep trying to negotiate a settlement based on fear and incomplete information." I tapped my pen against the legal pad in front of me. "The fact that they revoked your access to the PT records tells me they're trying to hide something."
Aries ran a hand over his face, and for the first time since I'd met him, he looked genuinely worried. As soon as the look came, he smoothed it over quickly. Then, the cocky, confident man was back.
“I’ll trust your judgment, Skylar.'“
Now it was my turn to feel a little worried. He just told me he was putting blind faith in my abilities. I knew I was good, but the fact that it would be my job for the foreseeable future to protect him and his image, had me feeling the weight of that responsibility.
I wouldn’t let him down.
“I got your back, front, and sides, Aries,” I told him, poking my chest out and letting my own confidence roll off me in waves.
The confidence in my voice must have hit him differently than I intended, because something shifted in his expression. His eyes darkened as they traveled down to where I'd pushed my chest out, then back up to meet my gaze. The air in the conference room suddenly felt thick, charged with an energy that had nothing to do with legal strategy.
"Is that right?" he said, his voice dropping to a lower register that sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine.
I cleared my throat and straightened my blazer, trying to regain my composure. "That's right. Professionally speaking, of course."
"Of course," he repeated, but there was a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth at my poor attempt to correct the situation. I knew I needed to keep things professional, but something told me that Aries Yerba was trouble and would have me crossing all kinds of boundaries.
"I appreciate that, Skylar. More than you know."
The way he said my name again made my stomach flutter, and I cursed myself internally. I definitely wasn’t feeling very professional at the moment. Instead, I felt like I was back in that dream from last night. My pulse quickened, and I had to look away before I did something stupid like lean across this conference table.
I needed to get my shit together. I was supposed to be saving his career, not fantasizing about him, or daring to consider things that could fuck up my own career.
I cleared my throat in an attempt to break the tension in the room. "Good," I managed, shuffling through my papers to give my hands something to do. "So, we're agreed. We wait for them to make the next move. In the meantime, I want you to document everything. Any conversations you remember having with Mr. Simpson, any concerns he expressed, anything that you can possibly remember.”
“That works. Since I’m agreeing with your plan of attack, can I make a request?”
“Absolutely.”
“Can we meet after typical hours? I haven’t done many traumas lately, so I’m normally out of surgery by five or six in the evenings. I do wish to see the inside of the O.R. throughout all of this shit. It’s my therapy.”
I studied Aries and I could see how much he meant every word, and I wanted to protect whatever peace he could manage.
“Of course. I can agree to that. Unless anything major comes up, I will try to leave you alone for the next week or so. I’ll set up a follow-up meeting in about ten days. How’s that?”
“Aww. Ten days of you not interfering in my schedule. What ever will I do?”
And just like that… there was the Aries I knew.
