The least he could do was understand she had a job to do. An important one. Maybe he didn’t like the idea that he must be involved in the campaign but he had grudgingly agreed to help. Now he at least had some marginally professional-looking clothes and a hairstyle that both showed the real him yet made him look like a qualified surgeon. However, he’d skillfully manipulated those decisions to his advantage. Fighting with him at every turn was getting old. She sighed. It was like her entire life was built on difficult men. Her father, her ex and now Rex Maxwell.
Entering the extensive one-floor brick building, she walked down the wide hallway. Her father’s room was close to the back. She wasn’t sure if it had been his or the staff’s choice to place him there. He could be difficult, but she loved him. She was old enough to remember well when he’d been in the car accident. Her mother had cried for days, driving them back and forth to the hospital to visit him. Her brother and sister, being younger than she, hadn’t understood the tragedy as she did. It had been a long time before her father had come home. While he’d been gone, all kinds of people had come and gone at their house. First it had been friends, then workers, who’d made the doors bigger, rebuilt the bathroom and replaced the front stairs with a ramp.
Nothing had been the same again. Her father hadn’t been home long before her mother had taken a job to help support them. That had left Tiffani alone to care for her father and her siblings. She’d learned to change her father’s bandages, give him his medicines and assist him in any way he’d needed. He’d depended on her and she had been there for him.
Despite the loss of his legs he’d remained the commanding force in the family. Being with him, she’d heard daily how the doctors had taken his legs rather than save them. Had ruined his life. She had been taught to mistrust and second-guess anyone even remotely connected to the medical field. He was her father and she’d believed him without question.
She hadn’t recognized it at the time but her father had begun growing more demanding and miserable. He drank regularly. Years had gone by before she’d discovered he’d taken too much of his prescription pain medicine too soon. He had been good with computers and electronics before the accident, but had made little effort to hold down a job afterward and had refused any vocational training. Their home life had deteriorated to the point that her mom had announced she was moving out, taking Tiffani’s sister and brother with her.
Devastated, Tiffani had cried but couldn’t go with them and leave her father alone. He’d needed her. Who would take care of him?
It had taken work on her part when she had grown up, but she’d continued to visit him. She was the only one of her siblings who did and she saw him regularly. She even helped pay the difference between what it cost to live in the home and what he could afford.
Reaching the last room at the end of the hall, she knocked lightly on the door.
“Come in,” came a gruff response.
To her amazement, her father sat in his wheelchair instead of being in bed. On more than one occasion she’d begged him to try the chair. Sadly, he had never made any real effort to use his prosthetic legs. His statement had always been, “If those damn doctors hadn’t taken my legs, I wouldn’t need those.”
“Hello, Daddy.” She pushed the door open. “How’re you doing today? It’s nice to see you out of bed.”
“Hey, baby girl. Where have you been? I expected you thirty minutes ago.”
As usual her father wasn’t pleased she was there but was equally concerned about her being late.
“I was busy. I have a new client and a new campaign I’m working on.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask about her job because she didn’t want to reveal her new PR project was a hospital and, worse, one of its doctors.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come so you can change the bandage on my hand.”
He lifted it so she could see. There was white gauze wrapped around it, with tape holding it in place.
She looked at it with concern. “What happened?”
“I’ve been trying to use this wheelchair, like you wanted. Because of you, I have blisters,” he accused. As if she were the cause of the pain. Nothing was ever his fault.
But at least he was trying. “You know there’re people here who can change a bandage for you.”
“They don’t do it right,” he growled.
He’d become so dependent on her in those early days that he still demanded her care whenever he could get it. It wasn’t unusual to have him call at any time of the day or night, begging her to come and do something for him. “Well, let me see what I can do.”
“Baby girl. You’re the only one that cares about me.” His voice softened.
Tiffani sighed and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, Dad.” She gathered the supplies she needed from a drawer nearby, pulled a chair close to him and went to work. From years of practice she efficiently wrapped his hand. Seconds later she secured the bandage. “There you go. All done.”
Her father raised his hand and waved it around. “It’ll do.”
That was all the praise she would get.
“You are having dinner with me,” he said, wheeling backward one roll.
It was a demand, not a question.
In her most apologetic tone she informed him, “I’ve already had an early dinner so I’m not staying tonight.”
“Why did you do that? You knew I’d want you to stay.” The whiny tone had returned.
“I was with a client. We needed to talk over some things.” This was a subject she did not need to go into detail on.
Yet he was watching her closely. “Like what?”
It was odd timing, but this was the most interest he’d ever shown in what she did for a living. Mostly she told him about what she was doing to distract him from complaining about something. Reluctantly she answered, “About what I needed him to do.”
“Him? You’re not back with that jerk you were seeing, are you?”
Her father had at least been concerned and supportive when she had told him about what Lou had done. For once the topic of conversation hadn’t been her father. So why the interest this time? “I said he’s my client.”
“I hear something in your voice. What’re you not telling me?” He wheeled closer, squinting at her suspiciously.
Her father had always been good at reading people. Even when he was drinking heavily he could catch a lie when she or one of her siblings told it.
“Nothing really.” She put the bandaging supplies back in the drawer.
“Then why’re you avoiding the question?”
She turned and looked directly at him. “Because I’m doing an image campaign for Metro Hospital.”
Tiffani watched the shock, disbelief and then anger flow across his face. He flushed red. His hands went to the arms of the chair as if he were going to lift himself up. He barked, “You are what? That’s where they took my legs. How could you do that to me?”
“Daddy, I’m not doing anything to you. All I’m doing is my job.”
“But you’re helping the hospital look all wonderful. Covering up what they really do to people there,” he snarled.
“When your boss tells you to do something, you do it.” She needed to calm him down or someone would come and check on them. She didn’t want him to be thrown out of the center.
His voice rose with each word. “But you know what doctors do. You know how they treated me. You’re helping the enemy.”
Tiffani reached out to him. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I knew you wouldn’t be happy but this campaign is important to my career.”
He rolled away from her as much as the tiny space would allow. “I bet you’re having to make doctors look and sound good. You know you can’t believe what they say.”
“I’m working with just one.”
“Do I know him?” He gave her a pointed look.
It had been so long since her father’s accident that most of the doctors he was familiar with were probably retired so she felt comfortable saying, “Dr. Rex Maxwell.”
Her father pursed his mouth in thought before he blurted out, “Isn’t that the name of the doctor involved in the malpractice suit that was all over the nightly news?”
Great, her father had been watching the news. She didn’t look at him. “Yes. That’s him.”
“How could you, Tiffani? After what they did to me. My legs, my life.” He waved his arms around, trying to express his furious frustration with her.
There was a knock on the door and one of the staff members stuck his head into the room. “Is everything all right down here?”
“Nothing’s wrong except my daughter is a traitor,” her father snapped.
* * *
The next day around mid-morning, having finished a case, Rex checked his phone messages. As he’d expected, there was a text from Tiffani, notifying him that she and the photographer were in the hospital. The text ended with her requesting he call the moment he was available. What if he ignored her? No. Tiffani would track him down. He wouldn’t put it past her to show up in surgery. She’d not slowed down the last time she’d been after him.
The episode in the café the day before had not improved his opinion of her. The very idea of using pictures of that child’s medical emergency to further Tiffani’s agenda left him with a nasty taste in his mouth. He hadn’t helped Lucy because it was a good PR move. He’d done what any dedicated doctor would do. His job was to save lives. Tiffani’s opportunistic attitude appalled him.
Her comment about not caring for his profession struck him as odd. What did she have against doctors?
And still all this PR stuff painfully reminded him too much of his childhood. Dressing things up so they looked perfect and idealistic violated the promises he had made to himself. Straightforward honesty at all times was his motto. Yet here he was in a situation he wasn’t completely comfortable with. The hospital provided exceptional care and he was who he was, an experienced physician. Neither of them needed some PR campaign to prove their worth. Still, he had agreed to participate in Tiffani’s program.
Finally he texted back.
OK.
She replied.
We are in the conference room of the administrative suite.
Rex groaned and responded.
Only have thirty minutes till next case.
As he entered the conference room Tiffani made a beeline toward him. Today she wore pants emphasizing her curves and a flowing, ultra-feminine blousy shirt. To his disappointment, her hair was still worn up, this time tightly twisted behind her head. They might not agree ideologically but he had to admit he was intensely attracted to her and sought to know more about her. If nothing else, he wanted to see what she looked like with her hair down.
The meeting room had been transformed into a photography studio. The large table and chairs had been pushed against the walls. In their places stood a camera on a tripod, lights, a large backdrop that depicted the front of the hospital and a few other props. Besides Tiffani there was a man with a scruffy beard, wearing a vest, and two other people working at positioning props. Rex assumed they were the photographer’s assistants.
“This is a bigger production than I anticipated,” Rex murmured when Tiffani was at his side.
“We want to get pictures conveying confidence and trust,” Tiffani informed him with an excited note in her voice.
The bearded man in the vest came over.
Tiffani took his arm, pulling him closer. “Dr. Maxwell, I’d like you to meet Luke Johnson, the photographer.”
Rex offered his hand. “Make it Rex.”
Luke nodded. “Nice to meet you. I’d like to get some shots of you dressed as you are before you change.”
Rex looked through narrowed eyes at Tiffani. “Change?”
“Into one of the outfits we bought yesterday.” Her expression was unyielding.
He did not have time for all this nonsense, but he’d given Nelson his word. The board would look dimly on it if he didn’t cooperate as requested.
“Why don’t you stand right here?” Luke suggested, indicating a spot in front of the backdrop.
“This is turning into more hoopla than I agreed to,” Rex muttered, as he made his way to where Luke directed.
“I can assure you it’s important,” Tiffani replied.
Over the next few minutes Rex turned this way and that as instructed. Held his hands to his sides, crossed them over his chest and put them behind his back, all while smiling or not. Tiffani made comments here and there to Luke, occasionally placing her hand on his shoulder or looking into the camera before she gave Rex instructions to position himself a certain way.
Tiffani’s obvious closeness to Luke deepened Rex’s displeasure. Just how well did they know each other? Luke was a business associate, just like him, yet she paid him attention. She made it clear Rex was off limits. More perplexing and annoying was why he would care? He wasn’t even sure he liked her.
It didn’t take long until he’d had enough. Enough of having his picture taken. Enough of watching Tiffani so close to another man. Luke finally looked up from the camera said, “That was great. Now we’re ready for the street clothes.”
Perfect. There would be more of the same. Them using him as a mannequin while they huddled together and whispered.
Tiffani pointed to a screen in the back corner of the room. “You can change there.”
“I don’t have any more time for this. I’m expected in surgery.” Rex didn’t even try to keep the irritation out of his voice.
Tiffani glanced at the clock on the wall. “It won’t take long. According to the schedule Dr. Nelson provided, you have another twenty minutes.”
Rex glared at her. “You should already have what you need.”
“I need you in street clothes as well. It’s better to do all the pictures at once than to have Luke come back later. When you’re ready, we are. The clothes are behind the screen.”
She was relentless. Like he cared if Luke was inconvenienced. It didn’t matter to her that she was inconveniencing his surgical patients, let alone what he thought or wanted. Her job took precedence. Like yesterday with the choking girl.
More than that, he was unable to intimidate Tiffani. He wasn’t used to that. His word was usually law. He wanted to assert his dominance over the irritating woman. At the moment that woman’s and Luke’s heads were almost touching as they studied the just-taken photos. Disgusted, Rex headed for the changing screen. The sooner he changed the sooner he would be done here.
He donned a sky blue shirt and khaki pants. To his great relief, there was no tie. There was a brown belt on a hanger, though. When he stepped from behind the screen Tiffani studied him before nodding, apparently satisfied.
“If you’ll stand in front of the backdrop again,” Luke said, looking through his camera on the tripod.
Rex took his spot once more. Luke clicked the button on the camera rapidly before asking Rex to turn another way. This entire ordeal was becoming more exasperating and frustrating by the minute. He was quickly reaching his limit on this silliness. Even so, he managed to give a pleasant smile on request.
When Luke stopped taking pictures and straightened, Rex’s hopes rose. Maybe they were done with him. But a glance at Tiffani dashed his hopes. Her head was tilted and mouth drawn up in thought.
“Something’s missing.” A bright smile lit her face seconds later. “I know what it is. Anna,” she said to one of Luke’s assistants, “can you bring me that stethoscope?”
The girl picked it up from a chair and rushed to hand it to Tiffani.
Rex watched Tiffani approach. She was all business, viewing him as a figure she could manipulate this way and that. She didn’t care about him. To her he w
as just the model for her damn PR crusade. For some reason that pricked his male pride. He didn’t consider himself a vain man or expect every woman to find him appealing but he didn’t appreciate Tiffani treating him as an object. The need to rattle her grew.
Reaching him, Tiffani held the stethoscope in both hands and raised it over his head. He didn’t offer her help by bending so she could put it around his neck. She went up on her toes, causing her breasts to press against his chest. He burned where she made contact. Without any apparent reaction on her part, she slipped the tubing around his neck.
Watching her concentrated expression closely, he said soft enough that only she could hear, “My heart rate’s up. How about yours?”
Her eyes widened and fixed on him. She stumbled. Rex put steadying hands on her waist. Her fingers gripped his shoulders. Hot seconds of awareness raced between them before Tiffani blinked and pushed away. His dented ego was bolstered by the red tint on her cheeks.
She kept backing away until Luke snapped, “Hey! Watch the camera.”
Tiffani jerked around and sidestepped the equipment before going to the photographer’s side. He immediately started taking pictures once more.
A minute later she said, “Anna, would you adjust the stethoscope so it doesn’t hang quite so evenly? Pull it down a little on the right side.”
Rex challenged Tiffani with a silent look, smug with the knowledge she was afraid to do it herself. He’d gotten to her. He smiled, emphasizing his unspoken invitation.
Tiffani averted her gaze.
Once Anna was out of the way, Luke resumed rapidly clicking, enthusiastically declaring, “That’s it. The one we want.”
Soon Tiffani announced, “That’s all we have time for.”
“I think we got what you wanted in that last batch, Tiffani.” Luke started showing her the images.
Rex swiftly ducked behind the screen and dressed again. He left the “costume” piled beneath where he’d originally found it hanging. Tiffani didn’t say anything as he left, but that was all right. He smiled as he strode down the hall. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d remember this photo shoot for a very long time.
Redeeming the Rebel Doc Page 5
