by Rachel Lee
They were single.
He was a single father.
“Don’t look so put upon, Thayer,” ribbed Quinn Vogler, the new orthopedic hospitalist who’d recently joined the staff. “You’re not the only single father in the bunch. I have a daughter, but I don’t have a problem with this.”
Right. Vogler had moved to Celebration from somewhere out west after a nasty divorce. Liam didn’t know the details other than that Quinn had a daughter around Calee and Amanda’s age who studied ballet at the same dance studio as his girls...or something like that. Liam wasn’t sure. He didn’t have time to keep track of his colleagues’ personal lives.
“Out of all of us, it seems like you could use a night out,” Vogler said. “You work too hard and take life way too seriously.”
“Maybe you don’t work hard enough, Dr. Vogler,” Liam said.
Quinn scoffed, and Liam suddenly remembered his girls saying something about not liking Vogler’s daughter very much because she was a bully. Liam hadn’t put too much weight into that because he figured it had something to do with competition among teenage girls.
Now he wondered if the Vogler girl’s needling nature came naturally. But Liam made it a policy not to meddle in his colleagues’ personal lives. In turn he expected Vogler, the new guy, to show him the same courtesy.
Donning a layer of emotional armor, Liam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. Ignoring Quinn and silently challenging the others to test him further, he felt like the only grown-up in the room, embarrassed that this scene was unfolding in front of Kate Macintyre.
So he wasn’t the only family man on the small staff. It didn’t mean he needed or wanted a night out. The agonizing torture of those initial minutes, hours and days without Joy had accumulated into weeks, then added up to months that had stretched into years that were marked by the passing of birthdays, holidays and anniversaries that were nothing without her.
He did well to drag boxes of Christmas decorations down from the attic much less summon the energy to cajole the kids to put them on the tree. But somehow the three of them had managed to go through the motions. If their family had once been a tight circle when Joy was alive, now that she was gone, the circle was broken, and had become a straight line in which he and the girls were desperately hanging on to each other, grasping, making it through day by day.
Physically Liam left almost everything he had at the hospital. The emotional reserves were left for his kids. Not for a date with a woman who had won him in a sophomoric bachelor auction. Even if it was for a good cause, Amanda and Calee were the only company he wanted.
Kate Macintyre continued on with her spiel. “A moment ago I mentioned that this event would happen in short order because we have a special incentive.” She paused, and, obviously knowing who her best audience was, she looked at Liam’s colleagues with sparkling eyes, as if she were trying to contain her enthusiasm.
“Have you all heard of the reality television show Catering to Dallas? It stars Pepper Merriweather—who happens to be my sister-in-law—Sydney James, A.J. Sherwood-Antonelli and Caroline Coopersmith. It’s filmed locally but is broadcast internationally. It chronicles the inner workings of the local catering company called Celebrations, Inc.
“It’s a fun show, and it’s really caught on with the television audience. They have a huge fan base. I just learned that a scheduled event canceled, and the producers have agreed to let us have the vacant spot. The bachelor auction will be recorded and broadcast at a later date on international television. They’ve also agreed to give viewers an opportunity to contribute to our cause at the end of the show. Even though the show will air later, the hospital’s building fund will have an ongoing need.”
Everyone except Liam broke out into a round of whooping fist bumps and applause.
Liam stood. “I’m sorry to be a wet blanket, but this isn’t a good fit for me. I’ll write you a check in lieu of participating. Just let me know what the average auctioned bachelor goes for these days, and I’ll be happy to reimburse you for my part.”
As he waited for her to quote him a figure, Kate gaped at him, the pleasant smile still affixed to her perfectly formed lips but uncertainty clouded her blue eyes.
“We’ve never done this before, so I’m not exactly sure.” She paused for a moment, and he could see her virtually weighing her words. “I can assure you, Dr. Thayer, that the auction will be in very good taste. However, I certainly won’t force you to do anything against your will.”
Damn right, you won’t.
But he had to give her credit. She was good. Tossing the ball back into his court like this, trying to make it hard for him to refuse. Too bad he wasn’t playing, because once upon a long time ago she might have been just the type who could’ve changed his mind.
“I need to do my rounds now,” he answered. “When you figure out how much I owe you, let me know, and I’ll get you a check.”
The chief of staff cleared his throat, and Liam’s gaze zagged over to Cullen’s impassive expression. The guy was only a couple years older than Liam, but the message in Cullen’s eyes was full of authority, a promise that he wasn’t going to cause a scene, but this match wasn’t over. Cullen Dunlevy simply had too much class to duke it out in front of their guest and the rest of the senior staff.
Liam looked away, feeling like a jackass. But at least he’d stood his ground and won this set.
“I understand that you’re busy,” Kate said. “I appreciate your time this morning. How about if I call you, and we can set up a time to discuss this?”
She pulled a business card from her pocket and handed it to Liam. It read Kathryn Macintyre, President, Macintyre Family Foundation. He glanced at it, unsure how her giving him a card would help her call him as she’d offered.
Liam answered with a curt, noncommittal nod. “I don’t have a business card on me right now. But you can reach me through the hospital.”
With that, he left the conference room, closing the door after him. He’d made it only a few feet down the hall when a voice sounded behind him.
“Liam, hold on a moment.”
He turned around to see Dunlevy standing outside the conference room, his hands on his hips.
The old familiar fight-or-flight sensation churned inside Liam, and he had to take a moment to reframe his urge to quarrel.
Reframe. That was the technique that the grief counselor had taught Liam when he felt like lashing out in anger. Of all the stages of grief, he seemed to fluctuate between feeling nothing—or as the counselor called it, “denial”—and wanting to lash out in anger. Or so thought the powers-that-be at the hospital who had forced him into counseling.
Those authorities had given him two choices: get help or take a sabbatical. Liam had still had enough of a handle on himself to know that he’d end up self-destructing if he had chosen the sabbatical. He couldn’t be alone with himself for that long. Despite how he craved more time with the girls, they were so busy with school and their ballet program that he’d have way too much time on his hands. That wouldn’t be good for the girls or his career.
Cullen Dunlevy had been one of the proponents of the ultimatum, and Liam still wasn’t sure if he’d forgiven Cullen yet. As the chief of staff walked toward him, Liam knew that he’d better cool his jets or face the possible repercussions of Cullen pronouncing that the counseling wasn’t working or that Liam wasn’t trying hard enough.
But, damn him to hell, Cullen Dunlevy hadn’t lost a wife; he wasn’t left to raise two children and navigate alone the phase of his life when he and his high school sweetheart, his life partner, his soul mate, should’ve been dreaming of growing old together.
Damn Cullen Dunlevy. He’d never been married, and he didn’t have a clue what Liam was going through. Liam had to grind his molars to keep from spitting out his angry words at his boss
.
Instead, he watched Cullen stand there with a disappointed scowl turning down the edges of his mouth, and his eyes darkened with... With what? Anger? Disappointment? Disgust? Liam felt like the wayward brother about to be set straight.
Dunlevy lowered his voice. “I know you’ve been through hell and back, but you have to get a hold of yourself. We’ve already had this talk, Liam.”
“I understand,” Liam countered in a monotone. “But my private life is private. My time away from the hospital is mine. I don’t remember anything in my contract about fund-raising or bachelor auctions—”
“There is a clause in your contract that talks about performance bonuses. But if money doesn’t motivate you, you know Joy would’ve wanted you to do this. She was one of the biggest proponents of the new pediatric wing.”
Liam gritted his teeth harder. He had to keep from shouting or turning and punching a wall. Instead, he hissed the words in a low growl, “Dammit, Cullen, don’t you dare go there. You leave Joy out of this. I said I’m happy to make a donation to the cause, and I think that’s plenty.”
“Do you?” asked Dunlevy. “You think that’s plenty? Even though you are the senior staff member of pediatrics, the department that this fund-raiser is supporting? You don’t think you should be there to represent it? I’m going to be there, putting myself on the auction block.”
There was an edge to the chief of staff’s voice, and Liam knew he was pushing it. But, damn Cullen to hell, he’d had the audacity to bring Joy’s name into it. Because of that, Liam knew if he answered Cullen right now, Liam might come undone. Exactly how, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to test the situation.
So he only tilted his head. “What is this? Peer pressure?”
Dunlevy heaved an exasperated sigh. “Look, I feel for you. We all feel for you. Losing Joy was...” He trailed off. His face softened, and he shook his head. “It was awful and unfair, but you can’t keep being pissed off at the world. I need you to come back to the team.”
Liam found his voice. “I haven’t gone anywhere. I’m still here.”
That look returned to the chief of staff’s eyes. “You’ve been here in body but not in mind and spirit. Liam, before this happened, you were an opinion maker. The others have always looked up to you. They still do. I could really use your help with this project.”
Project? “You mean farce?”
“Get off your high horse,” Dunlevy said. “You know this is all in good fun. And, most important, it’s for a great cause. We are seven single doctors. That alone is going to make headlines—we’re going to be on television. This auction will draw every eligible socialite in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. They will bring their checkbooks to bid on bachelors who are doctors.”
Liam knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue that he didn’t feel single. That his heart wasn’t single. That he’d tried trusting a woman too soon after Joy’s death and it had ended in disaster. But he knew the tactic the chief of staff would take. Cullen wasn’t asking any of them to get married or even take this bachelor auction debacle seriously. It was one night—well, two, if you counted the night of public humiliation and the ensuing date.
“I’m going to lay it out plain and simple,” said Dunlevy. “You’re the most senior staff member after me. I’m not going to force you into this, but I’ll say it again—I really could use your help.”
The words hung in the air between them, an unspoken ultimatum.
Finally the chief of staff shrugged. “You think about it, Liam. Let me know when you’ve decided to be part of this team again.”
Copyright © 2014 by Nancy Robards Thompson
ISBN-13: 9781460325681
REUNITING WITH THE RANCHER
Copyright © 2014 by Susan Civil Brown
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
