Hot Bodies Boxed Set: The Complete Vital Signs Erotic Romance Trilogy

by Hughes, Jill Elaine

  Harlan nodded. “It’s in my contract. Unless there’s some legal loophole I missed out on, Joe Middleton threw away millions of dollars when he fired me.”

  Joanna immediately fished her cell phone out of her purse. Sure enough, her caller ID showed a number of calls—two from Bob, two from Bob’s sleazy attorney, and to Joanna’s shock, one from her own divorce attorney. “Do you have a copy of your contract?” she asked.

  “Yeah, upstairs in my study.” Harlan looked bewildered. “Why?”

  “Go get it,” Joanna ordered. “Then come with me. We need to pay a visit to my lawyer.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Joanna and Harlan sat in the well-upholstered office of Peter Landall—Joanna’s divorce lawyer. In addition to handling her divorce from Bob, Peter and his firm had been Joanna’s family lawyer for three generations—handling her grandparents’ and parents’ real estate transactions, their wills, even a traffic ticket or two. There was no one she trusted better to help her and Harlan understand the strange goings-on with Covington Community Hospital’s administration—not to mention what her ex-husband Bob might have to do with it.

  Peter Landall—who between his white seersucker suit, gold pocket watch, and slow drawl was the epitome of the Southern country lawyer stereotype—finished poring over a pile of files, polished his wire-rimmed spectacles, and spoke. “Joanna, I knew it was only a matter of time before you showed up in my office. That ex-husband of yours is up to no good.”

  “I know that,” she replied. “That’s why I divorced him.”

  Peter opened a desk drawer and took out a binder, which he opened. “Well, I think this goes a bit beyond his usual shenanigans,” he said. “By any chance has Bob’s sleazy lawyer Rod Slokowski been calling you lately?”

  “Yes,” Joanna said. “He’s left me at least a dozen threatening messages over the past few days. I’ve ignored them all.”

  Peter sighed. “Well, Joanna, you aren’t going to be able to ignore him anymore. You see, Mr. Slokowski had filed suit against you on Bob’s behalf. Here’s the brief.”

  He passed it across the desk for her to read, but Joanna couldn’t make heads or tails of the legalese. “What does this mean?” she asked.

  Peter templed his fingers underneath his chin and sighed. “Bob has got it into his head that you cheated him out of millions of dollars in your divorce settlement just because you’ve taken up with Dr. Wilkinson here. Of course, you weren’t involved with Dr. Wilkinson until well after you and Bob divorced, so that’s pretty groundless as far as I’m concerned. But it seems that Bob’s managed to convince some pretty high-up people at the hospital to testify that the two of you had an adulterous affair while you and Bob were still married.”

  “But we weren’t!” Joanna cried. “I didn’t even meet Harlan until three weeks after my divorce was final!”

  “I know, Joanna.” Peter sighed again and shook his head. “But based on these two testifying witnesses, the divorce court has agreed to re-examine the settlement order. I’m not sure how Bob and his lawyer have managed to get these witnesses to out-and-out lie for them, but my guess is it’s got something to do with money. Lots of it. Like a cut of your patent royalties, Harlan.”

  Harlan looked puzzled. “But didn’t Joe Middleton throw away the hospital’s cut when he fired me?”

  Peter shook his head. “Not in this case,” he said. “There’s a loophole buried in the fine print he’s taking advantage of. Or, at least he thinks he’s taking advantage of, anyway. The hearing’s been scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’ve been through the documents in question and I think I can find a way to nip this in the bud. But I’ll need the both of you to work with me in the office this afternoon to plan our strategy. Think you both can do that?”

  Joanna and Harlan exchanged glances, and nodded.

  ****

  Before the hearing the next morning, Peter Landall waited for Harlan and Joanna at the top of the courthouse steps. He refreshed their memories of what they’d discussed in his office the day before, and coached them on what kind of testimony he’d be expected to give, what questions the opposition might ask. “I think if all goes our way, this unpleasantness will be behind us shortly,” Peter drawled, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet while he thumbed his suspenders.

  But Joanna didn’t share Peter’s optimism. After all, she knew the low depths her ex-husband was capable of sinking too well. And the fact that he longtime hospital superiors and colleagues were in cahoots with him made her ill.

  Joanna took a long, deep breath in a vain effort to regain her composure. Her head felt light and her palms were sweating gallons. She swallowed hard despite the huge lump forming in her throat, and finally ascended the courthouse steps, clutching Harlan’s hand.

  ****

  “ALL RISE!” shouted the bailiff, a heavyset, middle-aged woman with a voice as deep and rich as most men’s. “Court is now in session! The Honorable Judge David J. Diviston presiding.” Judge Diviston, the very same white-haired man who had publicly proclaimed three months earlier that Robert and Joanna Watson were divorced, strode into the courtroom, his black silken robes flowing. Following Peter’s gentle gesture, Joanna took her place in the defendant’s box, while Bob and the ever-sleazy Rod Slokowski (in one of his trademark silver-sharkskin suits) took their position in the petitioner’s box. Just as Joanna had predicted, Joseph Middleton sat behind them on one of the witnesses’ benches. And to Joanna’s shock, Shirley Daniels sat right beside him, looking smug.

  Judge Diviston settled into his heavy mahogany chair on the judge’s dais, shuffled some papers from a file, and looked up. He glanced from Bob to Joanna and then back to Bob again. “Well. Mr. and Mrs. Watson. You’re back.”

  Rod Slokowski stepped forward, grease practically oozing from every pore on his slick, bloated face. “Your Honor, my client wishes to obtain a new divorce settlement on the grounds that Mrs. Joanna Watson not only hid financial assets from the court, but also committed adultery.”

  Judge Diviston adjusted his bifocals and sighed. “Yes, I read the brief, Counselor. Mrs. Watson’s counsel has submitted a written denial of both allegations, so you’ll need to provide a corroborating witness.”

  “We have two corroborating witnesses, Your Honor. Divorce petitioner respectfully calls Joseph Middleton to the stand.”

  The portly old man Joanna had worked under for so long lumbered up to the witness box. Joanna ground her teeth at the betrayal.

  Rod Slokowski rubbed his hands together like a slumlord and approached the witness box. “Mr. Middleton, would you care to describe a conversation you had with Dr. Harlan Wilkinson, M.D. on Tuesday of this week?”

  “Yes,” the old man replied, with much effort. “I called Dr. Wilkinson into my office to respond to some reports I’d had of him improperly cavorting with a nurse.” There was a tremor in his voice, and he couldn’t look Joanna in the eye no matter how hard she stared him down. Did Middleton really want to be testifying against her? He certainly didn’t look like he was too happy about it. Joanna wondered if the old man might have been coerced.

  “And what nurse was Dr. Wilkinson allegedly cavorting with, Mr. Middleton?”

  “Ahhhhm, Joanna Watson.”

  “The woman standing just over there?” Slokowski gestured towards Joanna. Middleton nodded, never once meeting Joanna’s eyes. “And what did Dr. Wilkinson say about these allegations when you confronted him?”

  Middleton coughed. “Well, ahhh, the first time I spoke to him about it, he denied everything. But the second time, he ahhhm, he admitted it. That’s all.”

  “And you fired Dr. Wilkinson after he made that admission, did you not?”

  Middleton’s lips pursed and his brow furrowed. He gave a slight nod, but did not answer verbally.

  Slokowski seemed a bit put off, as if Middleton hadn’t given him the exact answer he should have. But after a split second, the sleazy lawyer regained his slick courtroom composure. “Let the rec
ord show the witness nodded in the affirmative. And is it also correct, Mr. Middleton, that your subordinate Shirley Daniels informed you that Mrs. Watson and Dr. Wilkinson had been engaged in an affair for several months—perhaps years—dating back to a time before Dr. Wilkinson moved to Statesville? An accusation corroborated by my client?”

  Peter Landall stood. “Objection, Your Honor. This is hearsay.”

  The judge sighed again. “Sustained. Mr. Slokowski, do you have any other evidence to present besides hearsay? And when I say evidence, I mean photographs, videos, audio recordings, et cetera, that would show Ms. Watson committed adultery? If you don’t, I’m not even going to entertain the hidden-asset allegation.”

  Slokowski cringed. “No, Your Honor. But I could possibly have more evidence tomorrow, if you’ll grant a recess—“

  “Denied,” the judge barked, and banged his gavel. “Will there be any rebuttal from Ms. Watson’s side?” the judge asked. “Not that you need to given how flimsy the case is.”

  “Yes, Your Honor, there will,” Peter Landall drawled, and bowed to the judge as gracefully as Robert E. Lee at Appomattox. “As you’ve already read in our own petition, Your Honor, Ms. Watson formally denies the allegation of adultery and wishes the divorce settlement to stand under the previously agreed-upon terms.”

  “Duly noted, Counselor,” the judge muttered, fiddling with his pen. He wore the look of someone who would rather be fishing or hunting—anything other than presiding over this petty hearing. “Do you have a witness or witnesses present to rebut the petitioner’s, ahhh, allegation?”

  “We do, Your Honor. We respectfully call Dr. Harlan Wilkinson, MD, to the stand.”

  Rod Slokowski, Bob, and Middleton collectively did a double-take. Shirley Daniels went several shades of green. Clearly, Peter Landall had not notified opposing counsel of the witness list. Harlan strutted up to the stand and sat down. Peter Landall approached the witness box, keeping his manicured hands clasped behind his back. “Sir, please state your name,” he drawled.

  “Harlan Wilkinson, MD.”

  “You are a physician, are you not?”

  “Yes,” Harlan barked. “People with ‘MD’ after their names generally are, you know.” Joanna recognized that voice. It was the gruff, rude, off-the-cuff voice he’d first used with her in the Covington Community Hospital elevator weeks ago. It was the voice that had made her simultaneously detest and desire him. His I’m-a-world-famous-surgeon-so-don’t-you-fuck-with-me voice.

  Mr. Personality was back.

  Unruffled, Peter never once let go of his gracious Old South manners. He paced back in forth in front of the witness box as if gliding on air. “Of course, Dr. Wilkinson. You are quite well-known in your field, are you not?”

  “Oh sure. In surgery circles, I’m world-famous. And rich, too.”

  Peter stopped pacing. “Just how rich are you, Dr. Wilkinson?”

  Rod Slokowski stood up. “Your Honor, I object.”

  Judge Diviston set down his pen and sighed for the umpteenth time. “Overruled, Counselor. After all, you brought this case to court in an attempt to show your client had the right to Dr. Wilkinson’s money. The witness may answer the question.”

  Harlan smiled. His azure eyes pierced Joanna’s jade ones as he replied, “I am worth approximately eighty-seven million dollars, give or take by my last tax return.”

  A collective gasp rose from the courtroom. Joanna froze. She’d known Harlan was wealthy—but not quite that wealthy. She felt all the blood drain from her face and settle pleasantly into the space between her legs.

  Peter didn’t even blink. Clearly, he’d been prepared for Harlan’s answer. “Eighty—seven million dollars, you say? Very nice, Dr. Wilkinson. Now we all know that even the most successful of surgeons don’t generally earn that kind of money just by taking out appendixes. Would you care to tell the court what the major source of your income is?”

  “Certainly. Patent royalties. I invented numerous medical devices and tools which are now successfully sold worldwide by companies like Johnson & Johnson, Tyco, Medtronic and others, chiefly to Third World countries. I still own a share of all the patents, and get a royalty payment for each and every one of my devices that are sold. And millions upon millions of my devices have been sold. I think you can do the math.”

  Peter Landall started to pace again, never once unclasping his hands from behind his back. “You said you only own a share of your patents. Who owns the other share, or shares?”

  “Well, Hofts University, my former employer, used to own a share, but they forfeited it when they fired me for my alcoholism. A problem I overcame with proper treatment, I might add.” Harlan glanced up at the judge, who nodded his approval. “Another share goes to a charitable foundation based in Boston. When I signed my Chief of Surgery contract with Covington, the hospital assumed the share that Hofts gave up when they fired me.”

  Peter Landall rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Thank you for that explanation, Dr. Wilkinson. Now, when Mr. Middleton terminated your employment at Covington Community Hospital for allegedly cavorting with Ms. Watson against hospital regulations, you assumed that, per the terms of your contract, Covington would forfeit its share in those patent royalties upon your firing, is that correct?”

  “That was my assumption, yes.”

  “I see.” Peter walked to the counselor’s table and pulled a document from his briefcase. “I have a copy of your contract here. Dr. Wilkinson, next time you sign a contract such as this one—“—he indicated the document—“I suggest you read the fine print. Would you care to read the clause I have highlighted?” Peter handed Harlan the document. Harlan took it, squinted at the highlighted passage, and read it aloud.

  “The terms of the aforedescribed Patent Royalties Share shall be deemed Forfeit In Whole and Full to the Employer, Covington Community Hospital, in the event that the Employed, Harlan Wilkinson, MD, shall ever have his medical Licensure Revoked and/or be placed under investigation by the State Medical Board of North Carolina while under the Employer’s Employ.”

  Realizing the meaning of what he had just read, Harlan’s forehead began to show beads of sweat.

  “Thank you for reading that, Doctor,” Peter chirped, taking the document back from him. “And isn’t it true, Dr. Wilkinson, that at the time Mr. Middleton dismissed you from service, you had just been suspended from active call duty by the hospital as a result of a pending investigation by the State Medical Board of North Carolina?”

  Harlan’s jaw tightened, and he shot a look of sheer fury straight at Middleton, who reddened. “That is correct.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Wilkinson.” Peter Landall grinned in triumph. “Your Honor, I think it is clear based on both Mr. Middleton’s and Dr. Wilkinson’s own testimony, as well as the supporting documentation provided in the brief I submitted on behalf of Ms. Watson, that the true motivations behind today’s court petition are actually part of a sinister and fraudulent scheme on the part of Mr. Watson, his attorney, and their two witnesses to share in the patent royalty rights Mr. Middleton and his hospital have wrongfully tried to wrest from Dr. Wilkinson.”

  Joanna silently thanked her now-deceased parents for teaching her to always trust Peter Landall and his law firm.

  “Your Honor, I submit that Mr. Watson’s allegations are nothing more than a slander meant to embellish and advance his counsel’s and others’ illicit scheme,” Peter went on. “I further submit that the nature of these actions should not only cause Mr. Watson’s petition be dismissed, but also that Mr. Slokowski’s and Mr. Middleton’s—and by cooperation and association, Mr. Watson’s and Ms. Daniels’—actions be referred by Your Honor to the appropriate authorities for investigation on federal racketeering charges. I also have submitted a copy of my brief to the State Medical Society of North Carolina requesting that their investigation of Dr. Wilkinson be aborted, as it was likely initiated by Mr. Slokowski for questionable causes. I also have requested the hospital
board consider removing Mr. Middleton from administering Covington Community Hospital, and also to reinstate Dr. Wilkinson to staff as soon as possible.” Peter folded his arms across his chest, waiting for the judge’s response.

  Judge Diviston looked from Peter over to Slokowski—who by now had turned several shades of purple—and snickered. “Mr. Landall, it’s always a pleasure having your grace and decorum in my courtroom. Lawyers like Mr. Slokowski could learn a lot from you. Mr. Watson, your petition is dismissed. Unless there is any further business on this case, this court stands adjourned. Happy divorce, folks.”

  Judge Diviston banged his gavel. Bob Watson, Slokowski, and Middleton all bolted from the courtroom as if the soles of their feet were on fire, but Joanna, Peter, Harlan, and the few citizens who’d been sitting in the gallery remained. The judge gathered his papers and moved to get up from his seat when Harlan stepped up from the witness box and approached the bench.

  “Your Honor, I have business before this court.”

  “Dr. Wilkinson, if you plan to sue Mr. Middleton and Mr. Slokowski for slander, libel, and attempted theft of patent rights—which I strongly suggest you do—you’ll need to do that in a federal court,” the judge said. “I don’t preside over that sort of thing. I’m a family court judge.” The grizzled old jurist started to leave. But Harlan blocked his path, alarming the bailiff.

  Leave it to Harlan to try and strong-arm a judge, Joanna thought, stifling a chuckle.

  “I’m aware of the law in those matters, sir, and I plan to pursue it in the appropriate court,” Harlan said. “But as a family court judge, in addition to granting divorces, you can also perform marriages, isn’t that correct?” Harlan glanced over at Joanna, who jerked up from her chair when she saw the look on his face. As he gazed upon her, his badass-surgeon persona melted away in favor of a look of pure, majestic love and adoration. “Because you see, Your Honor, I love Joanna Watson, and I’d like to marry her as soon as possible. Today, preferably.”