She wondered if Joshua would tell her today where the little boy was. If nothing else, she’d like to bring him his giraffe, but she also felt a strong, strange urge to see him and reassure herself that he was okay.
As she rounded the corner by Megan’s cubicle, she backed up quickly, startled by the sight of a man leaning over her desk.
Then the smell hit her—a pungent mix of aftershave and hair gel that could only belong to one person.
“Can I help you with something, Kevin?” She walked by, then balanced her coffee cup against her chest as she unlocked her office. What was he doing here so early?
He spun around like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be, and Delaney’s radar pinged.
“I’m looking for those damn projection sheets. And don’t sneak up on people.”
“The sheets? Again?”
“Yes, again. Megan promised she’d help me with them, but you’ve kept her running around like crazy all week, so she hasn’t had time.”
“Well, she is actually my assistant.” Delaney set her coffee cup down on the file cabinet just inside her door.
“I’m pretty sure she’s everybody’s assistant up here.”
“Um, no. Megan is most decidedly mine.”
He shook his head, still shuffling through the messy piles on Megan’s desk. Delaney made a mental note to track down another file cabinet. If they threw a lit match at her desk right now, it could heat the entire suite for a week.
“Kevin, you’re not going to find it. Just wait till she gets here. It may look like a disaster, but I guarantee she knows where everything is.”
“But I need to get some numbers to Gregory by ten o’clock.”
“Ah, so that’s why you’re here at the crack of dawn.”
He rolled his eyes. “Some of us have a life outside the office, Delaney. We can’t all be here twenty-four-seven.”
Delaney thought about how Joshua was always here before the birds, and often still busy with patients until well after dark.
“You might be surprised how many people are here practically that much, Kevin.”
“Well, they need to get a life.” He sighed loudly as he moved to yet another pile on Megan’s desk. “How does she work like this?”
Delaney leaned against her door frame, trying to appear casual while praying that Megan hadn’t left anything incriminating on her damn desk yesterday.
“Kevin? Have you ever spent any time on patient floors?”
He looked up, pausing his hands. “What do you mean?”
“I mean—have you ever headed downstairs and taken the time to see how Mercy actually treats patients?”
“That’s ridiculous.” He shook his head. “We have enough to do up here. The people who work down there don’t need us watching over their shoulders.”
She nodded thoughtfully, ashamed of how long it had taken her to punch that Down button and stop at the third floor.
“If I promise to send Megan to your office with the forms as soon as she walks in, will you please stop rifling through her desk?”
His hands finally stilled as he extracted a spreadsheet from one of the piles, his eyes widening.
“Found it.”
“So you’re good?”
He smiled, and his shoulders dropped a good inch. “I’m fantastic.” He rolled the paper up and tapped her on the head like they actually could stand each other. “Thank you.”
An hour later, she heard Megan before she saw her, since even carpet couldn’t quite muffle the sound of someone running in clogs.
“Omigod! Did you see it?” Megan came blasting into her office, waving a newspaper with Charlotte’s face on the front page.
“Already?” Delaney jumped up. “She got that story in already?”
Megan handed her the newspaper, and that’s when Delaney saw that she had an entire duffel bag of them slung over her shoulder.
“You look like a newsie, Meg. Are you planning to deliver them all over the hospital?”
“Nope. Just to a selection of people who might or might not have board-level influence. I see it as my public service for today. The timing couldn’t be better, with the fundraiser tonight.”
Delaney smiled as she leaned her hip on the desk and read the story. Amanda had done a beautiful job of painting Charlotte’s tale, interspersing quotes here and there, along with the Mercy-specific statistics and facts Delaney had given her.
Megan waited while she read, practically hopping from toe to toe. When Delaney put down the paper, Megan’s eyebrows were sky-high.
“Well?”
Delaney shivered. “It’s perfect. Beyond perfect. Exactly what we were hoping. She did an amazing job, on completely short notice.”
“I’m going to go give one to Kevin.” Megan winked as she picked up the duffel bag and headed back toward the door.
“Oh, that reminds me. He was looking for the projection spreadsheets this morning on your desk.”
“The what?” Megan looked mystified.
“Cost projections? The thing he can’t seem to grasp even though we’ve both showed him a hundred times? He said you’d agreed to help him with it. He found whatever he was looking for, though.”
“He took something? From my disaster area of a desk?”
“He wouldn’t wait. I tried to call him off.”
“Delaney, I never promised to help him with anything. I have no idea what he took.”
Delaney’s radar pinged again. “Was there anything on your desk that he shouldn’t see?”
“No.” Megan’s face reddened. “I don’t think so. God, I hope not.” She turned. “I’ll go talk to him. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
After Megan left, Delaney tried to finish the report she’d been working on since seven o’clock, but she just couldn’t focus. Last night, during her painful six-mile loop, she’d done her best to remind herself of all the reasons why falling for Joshua was a horrible, terrible, really bad idea, but five miles in, she hadn’t had any success.
She’d tried the colleague argument—the one where she fast-forwarded thirty days and sat in a board meeting where her proposal was dismissed because she’d entered into a personal relationship with one of the affected parties—but still found herself getting all swoony when she thought of how he’d held her as they’d watched the sunset.
Then she’d tried the life-after-the-initial-flirtation argument—that one where she envisioned a future with a hospital pediatrician. And though she knew damn well there would never be enough time together, never be enough outside-the-hospital hours to maintain a relationship, she still couldn’t get the man out of her head.
For the final mile, she’d increased her pace, a self-punishment technique that had worked wonders in the past. But when she’d collapsed on her porch, regret and fear dripping from every pore, she still wished she hadn’t had to say no to his offer of a second date.
Because in uttering that one word, she felt like she’d just closed a giant door, and she wasn’t at all sure it had been the right decision.
Chapter 21
“You’re slouching, dear.” Delaney’s mother spoke out of the side of her mouth that evening, her lacquered lips barely moving as her eyes roved the hotel ballroom.
“I’m fixing my heel, Mom.”
I’m thirty-two, Mom.
Delaney fiddled with the silverware set at their table toward the front of the room. As was his custom, Dad had bought the entire table, hand-selecting colleagues and golf buddies he deemed worthy of sitting with him.
“You’re fidgeting, dear.”
Delaney took a deep breath and clasped her hands in her lap. In her mother’s company, it was exceedingly easy to feel like she was twelve again. She looked around the table, smiling tightly at the wives who’d spent the better part of the afternoon at the salon. Their makeup tried to hide self-perceived flaws, and for the most part, their a-little-too-tight, a-little-too-sparkly dresses would have better suited women twenty years young
er.
She was the only grown-up daughter at the table this year, Scarlett O’Brien having married her own orthopedist last summer and moved back a row. Delaney tried not to feel pathetic about being the only single-over-thirty person at the table, but it was a little sobering. Five years ago, she’d thought Echo Lake might be the perfect place to find her forever-someone. She hadn’t realized just how few someones were available, however.
And now it looked like she’d gone and done the stupidest thing possible—allowed herself to risk both her professionalism and her heart by getting pseudo-intimate with a colleague. Sure, all they’d done was kiss, but still. The CFO’s office was just beyond her fingertips, and last weekend, she’d completely compromised her integrity by letting Joshua take her out to the lake.
She sighed. Oh, who was she kidding? If he offered right now to take her there again, she’d have an exceptionally hard time saying no.
And that was the scary part. She’d worked so damn hard to get where she was, and she had so many plans for what she’d do if she ever got to take Mercy’s financial reins. She had every intention of being the best CFO in the hospital’s history, and she’d been cutting her teeth on spreadsheets, funding formulas, and hospital regulations since she’d walked out of med school.
How could she possibly be willing to even think about risking all of that for a relationship that was doomed from the start?
“I need to use the ladies’ room,” she murmured to her mother. “Be back in a bit.”
She sidled through tables all the way to the back of the room, finally breathing freely when she escaped into the lobby area outside the ballroom. The next hour would be filled with the usual pompous speeches by the usual pompous people, and her tolerance level was at an all-time low tonight.
While donors promised money to fund a serenity garden, a healthier cafeteria, and a whole herd of other pet projects, she’d just spent almost two weeks on a floor that was barely able to deliver basic care. To children, for God’s sake. That’s where the money needed to go.
Her mission tonight was to approach four possible big-pocketed donors she and Megan had targeted, and she’d practiced her five-minute spiel about a hundred times this afternoon, hoping she’d convince at least one of them to hear her out until at least the two-minute mark. However, she couldn’t do that while everyone was pretending to listen to the speakers, so it was as good a time as any to hide out in the lobby until the mingling portion of the evening began.
As she’d wound her way through the crowded ballroom, she’d found herself scanning the room for Joshua. She knew he’d been invited to this dinner—all department heads always were—but there had been six new admissions on the floor this afternoon, so his chances of breaking free and showing up here were just about nil.
She wished she didn’t care.
Delaney headed toward a pair of French doors that opened onto a long balcony facing the lake. The balcony was lit with hurricane candles flickering in the twilight breeze coming off Echo Lake, and she closed her eyes as she leaned against the railing.
“Let me guess—another fund-raiser escapee?” A gravelly voice startled her, and she whipped her head around to see an elderly man with a shock of white hair smoking a cigar at the edge of the balcony. He smiled conspiratorially. “Don’t worry. I won’t turn you in.”
Delaney smiled. “Thank you. I’m not really—escaping. Just taking a break.”
He shrugged. “You’re taking a break, I’m escaping. Same-same, I think?” He had a slight accent that she couldn’t quite place, but it was the kind that made you want to pull up a chair and listen to its cadences.
“Same-same.” She nodded. “So what brings you to the fund-raiser?”
Could you be my Daddy Warbucks, by any chance?
“Coincidence, really. My wife and I are here on holiday. We lived here long ago. When she saw the gala on the hotel placard this morning, she just had to come. I suspect she’s hoping to run into her first boyfriend. He is a doctor.”
Delaney laughed. “And what are you?”
“Pah.” He swiped a hand. “An inventor of useless gadgets. I’m lucky she’s put up with me for forty years, living in swill, when she could have had a doctor.” He ground out his cigar and held out a hand. “I am Oscar. You are?”
“Delaney.” She shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“So what brings you here? Are you a doctor?”
Delaney frowned. “No. But my father is. I’m a financial analyst.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “So you are the one who decides how much begging needs doing at such an event as this?”
She laughed. “Something like that, yes.”
“And are you the one who is supposed to be doing the begging?”
“Yes again.”
“But you are terrible at it? This is why you’re hiding on the balcony?”
“I’m not hid—yes.” She smiled. He knew. It was useless to protest. “I’m worse than terrible.”
“You want to practice on a stranger?”
“Thank you for offering, but no. I’ve practiced a hundred times in my mirror already.”
Oscar smiled. “So pretend instead of the five dollars I put into a basket downstairs, I gave you a million. What would you do with it?”
Delaney’s shoulders fell. Wouldn’t that be a dream right now.
“I have a soft spot for pediatrics, Oscar. I’d send every penny of it right there.”
“And what would they do with it? Something better than a new garden, I suppose?” He raised his eyebrows, and she knew she’d found a kindred spirit.
“So many things. So, so many things.” Delaney took a deep breath, launching into her experience of the past couple of weeks, talking about the patients, the nurses … the doctor who held the seams of the floor together practically with packing tape. She talked about Kenderly, and Millie, and even Therese—talked about Kaya and Charlotte and little Ian. Through it all, she was careful not to use their names, or say enough about them for anyone to identify who she was talking about, but as she talked and Oscar nodded, it felt like a fountain had let loose. She had no idea when she’d started caring so much about all of the little souls on that floor, but as she heard her own voice, she realized she’d fallen in love with more than Joshua.
She’d fallen in love with pediatrics.
After ten minutes, she finally paused, embarrassed that she’d talked the poor man’s ear off. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—I had so much to say.”
He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling at her in the fading sunlight. “I’ve been married for forty years. I am a very good listener.” He pushed away from the railing, his hand outstretched once more as he headed toward the doors. “I enjoyed meeting you, Delaney. And very good luck with your begging tonight.”
“Thank you, Oscar.” She shook his hand. “I’m sorry to talk your ear off.”
He made his pshaw motion once again, turning to go. “After so long, I have none left anyway.” Then he stopped, turning back to her. “If I could offer a small bit of advice?”
“Of course.”
“Do not use the speech you practiced in the mirror. I know you have one. Use the stories you just told me.” He put his hand over his chest and tapped softly. “That is speaking from the heart, and that is what makes people stop thinking about gardens and start thinking about … people.”
He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You have a good heart, Delaney. The hospital is lucky to have you.”
And then he was gone, leaving Delaney alone on the balcony with her swirling thoughts. Before she could even begin to corral them, a breeze gently lifted the hem of her skirt, and though she knew she should go back to the ballroom to see if the mingling portion of the evening had started, she just wanted to stay out here on this quiet balcony, watching the sunset while the soft breeze played with her hair.
Then a little gust hit, and a memory crept in—one where she and Parker were walking along t
he coast in Mystic, Connecticut, looking at the submarines. A gale of wind had come across the water, and they’d grabbed on to an iron railing, convinced they were about to blow away.
She felt tears threaten at the backs of her eyes as she pictured him that day—wispy reddish-brown hair and tiny freckles not quite hiding the bluish tinge of his skin. She’d held onto his hand so tightly, sure he actually could blow away if she let go.
The next day Mom and Dad and Parker had headed to Boston Children’s while she’d stayed with a friend, but they hadn’t come home that night … or the one afterward. When Cara’s mom had finally delivered her home three days later, the house was silent, her parents moving around like zombies.
Six months later, after trips to every renowned heart specialist her father could dig up, her dad had packed them up for one last camping trip, way up in northern New Hampshire. Better than a hospital room, Delaney had heard him whisper to her agitated mother as they’d packed. Let’s let him live while he can.
But two days later, in a tiny ER in a tiny hospital, things had gone from bad to worse before a medevac could be arranged, and Parker’s heart had finally succumbed.
The nurses had taken all of the tubes and wires off him before they’d let eight-year-old Delaney in to say a final good-bye, but she’d still been able to see their imprints on his tiny face.
She remembered sitting in the chair beside his bed, tears dripping onto his favorite dump-truck pajamas as she tried to smooth the lines out of his tiny cheeks. She remembered climbing into that bed with him and gathering him as close as she could while her mother collapsed on the floor.
She remembered her dad trying to lift her out of the bed, and her holding on to Parker’s tiny body, refusing to leave him there.
She remembered the sound of her screams as her father had carried her down the stark hallway.
“You trying to escape the festivities?” Joshua’s deep voice startled her.
Heart Like Mine Page 18
