by Radclyffe
Presley’s color rose. “I think it’s sunburn.”
“Well, country living seems to agree with you.”
“You have no idea.” Presley slid an arm around Abby’s waist and led her into the room. The suite was spacious with windows on two sides and bookcases on the other two. A sitting area with an oval oriental rug, a beige leather sofa, two chairs, and a coffee table occupied one corner. An open door led to an adjoining conference room with a large table surrounded by a cluster of chairs. Presley’s traditional dark wood desk sat in front of one wall of windows through which Abby saw clusters of lilac trees in full bloom. “How do you get any work done in here?”
“It took me a while to get used to it.” Presley gestured to one of the chairs in the sitting area and took one of the others. “At first I felt hopelessly out of place, but it didn’t take long to begin to feel at home.”
“I hope you’re right, because I’m feeling a little displaced myself.”
Presley smiled gently. “I feel really lucky to get you here so quickly, but I hope I didn’t rush you too much.”
“My fellowship was up in another few weeks, and I hadn’t had any vacation time this year. I needed to make a final decision about a job”—Abby shrugged—“and frankly, none of them really appealed to me.”
“I’m glad I caught you at the right time.”
A double knock sounded at the door and Presley rose. “Come on in, Carrie.” She helped Carrie distribute containers of coffee and a tray with bagels and spreads on the coffee table. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Carrie paused on her way out. “Hey, Abby, do you play softball?”
“I—” Abby laughed at the unexpected question. “Not since high school. Sorry.”
“That’s great. I’ll be in touch.”
The door closed and Abby glanced at Presley. “Softball?”
“A local passion. There’s a hospital team. You can run, but you can’t hide.”
Abby laughed again. “I might have to try. I was never all that good.”
Presley shook her head. “Carrie is the new team captain and she’s relentless. I only escaped by threatening to fire her if she kept nagging me to play.”
The affection in Presley’s tone belied her words. Abby envied the easy camaraderie. “She seems great. She really handled everything for me.”
“Good. I know you’re used to a big city hospital, but our ER is very busy. Probably not what you’re used to, but—”
“Actually I just came from there. I walked into a trauma call.”
“I heard the code,” Presley said. “Everything all right?”
“So far.”
“You must have met Harper, then.” Presley’s expression softened, as if the thought of Harper took her somewhere else for a second. “She was headed that way.”
“I did. And Flannery. She wasn’t expecting me. Sorry if I jumped the gun. I wanted to introduce myself to the night shift before they left, and one thing led to another.”
“Ah.” Presley sighed. “Damn it. I’m sorry you walked into that. My fault entirely. Harper and I were away for the weekend, but I should have called Flann to tell her you were on your way.”
“That’s fine. We made our introductions.” Abby didn’t plan on using her friendship with Presley to smooth out bumps with staff, even if—especially since—one of the bumps was with Presley’s family. “We’ll work it out. Transitions are tough on everyone.”
“Flann is a great surgeon and a sweetheart, really,” Presley said. “But you know, she’s a surgeon.”
Abby laughed. “I noticed. Harper seems terrific, by the way.”
“We’ll have to get together so I can gush,” Presley said. “In fact, come to dinner this Saturday. We’re buying the house I’ve been renting, and I’d love for you to see it and meet Harper.”
“I—” Abby could make her own schedule now, and she’d just work Sunday to make up for the weekend day off. And Blake needed to meet people—meet their friends. “All right, yes. Thanks.”
“Good. We didn’t get much chance to catch up on the phone,” Presley said. “I was too busy trying to sell you on this job. How is Blake? And David—do you see him much?”
“We talk pretty regularly, but he and Matt are living in Arizona now. They have a real estate development business out there. Blake has visited a few times but doesn’t really press for more time with David.”
“How did Blake react to the move?”
Abby suppressed the swell of words rising in a rush. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted to talk to someone when she didn’t have to pretend to be totally in control of everything. “About that. I was thrilled when you offered me this job—it’s great to be close to a friend after all these years, and professionally, it’s an amazing opportunity. But another big part of the reason I took the job is Blake. The last year has been hard.”
Presley leaned forward. “What’s happening? Not something medical, I hope?”
“No, not at all.” Abby took a breath. “About a year ago, right before Blake’s fifteenth birthday, Blake explained to me he was quite certain he was not a girl.”
Chapter Four
Flann finished her colon resection in record time and had at least an hour free before her next case. She waited until her first assistant Glenn had the patient off the table and on the way to recovery before leaving the OR to speak to the family. She pulled on a white lab coat over her green scrubs, ditched her cap and booties in the trash, and after updating the patient’s wife and daughter, took the stairs down to the first floor for a decent cup of coffee from the cafeteria. Sipping as she went, she strode through the main building and down the administrative wing. Carrie was at her desk typing rapidly, a half-eaten bagel on a paper plate by her right hand and her eyes glued to the monitor.
“Hey, beautiful,” Flann said. “How’s your morning?”
Carrie looked up and grinned. “It’s Monday, so it’s hell. How’s yours?”
“The usual dragons to slay.”
“I heard it started out with a trauma.” Carrie’s brow furrowed. “Patient doing okay?”
“As far as I know. Harper picked up the ball and has been keeping an eye on her in the ICU. I’m going to stop by there in just a few minutes.”
“I heard the new ER chief was there too.”
Flann considered her answer. Carrie was smart enough to be running the hospital on her own, and she was a staunch Presley supporter, not that that bothered Flann in the least. She liked Presley—as much as she liked any administrator, on a professional level. Personally, she liked her a whole lot more. Presley was a good match for her sister, and she was happy that Harper was happy, even if she wasn’t exactly certain how she felt about having her almost-twin suddenly part of a couple. That hadn’t ever really happened for them before. They’d both had girlfriends over the years, but neither of them had ever really gotten serious. They were so close in age they’d ended up in the same class in high school and med school, so everything they’d experienced, they’d done as a team. That stopped at the bedroom door, but short of that, they were each other’s best friend and about as tight as two people could be. Now the person she trusted most in the world was about to have someone else to share her life with.
Presley and Carrie were a team too, inside and outside the hospital. Flann couldn’t blame Carrie for fishing for a little insider information about how things had gone with her and Abby Remy. Carrie’d hear soon enough, but not from her. “We bumped into each other just before the code. I already knew her résumé, and she proved she’s got the creds in the ER this morning. Presley made a good call recruiting her.”
“So you’re okay about handing off control of the ER to her?”
Flann laughed. “You think I’m okay about handing off control to anybody over anything?”
Carrie colored. “I wouldn’t have said so, no.”
“Bingo.” Flann tossed her coffee cup into the trash. “Let’s just say the two of
us have agreed to coexist. Give us a little time to work out the ground rules.”
“That sounds fair.” Carrie smiled again, revealing a tiny gap between her front teeth.
Flann noticed, not for the first time, she was beyond cute—she was also smart and sexy and a great softball pitcher. She could give as good as she got with verbal jibes on the field, feisty and flirty in a non-gamey way. Flann had a feeling she’d be feisty and fun in bed too. She’d been thinking about asking her out since the first time she’d seen her, but she usually tried to stay clear of entanglements at the hospital, mostly because the place was a gossip mill and anything anybody did was fair game for lunchtime conversation, especially if it involved one of the doctors. Plus there was the added complication of Presley about to be her sister-in-law. If things got messy—not that she’d let things go that far—she didn’t want her family involved.
For some reason she couldn’t quite decipher, those reasons didn’t seem particularly important just now. Since news of the hospital changing ownership, Presley arriving, Harper falling head-over-heels, and now Abby Remy moving in on the ER, her world was just slightly off-kilter. Since she couldn’t do a damn thing to change any of it, she needed a diversion, and some downtime with a cute, sexy, smart woman was just what the doctor ordered. Thinking about a night with Carrie would definitely take her mind off the morning’s meeting with Abby.
Abigail Remy unsettled her, something that rarely ever happened. Every time she replayed their first encounter, which she’d been doing pretty much constantly except for the ninety minutes she’d been scrubbed in the OR, she got sideswiped with a weird mix of irritation and intrigue. She didn’t usually obsess over a woman, and this one was completely not her type—too serious, too controlling, and not in the least susceptible to being charmed. Abby’s immunity to being charmed wouldn’t have been annoying at all if Flann hadn’t had the persistent, irrational, inexplicable urge to do just that. And there she was, getting sidetracked by images of Abby’s cool, composed, admittedly beautiful face again. Flann pushed the image aside and leaned a hip on Carrie’s desk. She turned the paper plate with her index finger, spinning the bagel with it. “What do you say we go out after a game some night.”
“We always go out after the games,” Carrie said. “Beer and pizza. It’s tradition.”
Flann shook her head. “I don’t mean with the rest of the team. I mean you and me. We can grab a quick shower at my place and drive down to the city. Have a late dinner in a real restaurant. You know, the kind where they use cloth napkins and serve the food on dishes instead of paper plates.”
Carrie stilled. “You mean, like a date.”
“That would be the general definition, yes.” Flann stopped the spinning plate and moved her hand a few inches until it touched Carrie’s.
“I need to think about it.” Carrie slowly moved her hand away.
Flann straightened. “Is your schedule full all summer?”
“Not quite yet,” Carrie said slowly. “I’m just not sure it would be a good idea.”
“It would be a great idea. You know we’re a good combination.” Flann leaned in again, just a little. Carrie’d been looking at her with interest for a while too. She didn’t mistake those kinds of signals. “I know you feel it, same as I do.”
“Maybe,” Carrie said quietly. “But we’re a pretty good combination right now.”
“And we’d only get better. Why don’t you think about it and let me know. The offer is open.”
“I…I’ll call you.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Abby rounded the corner and stopped abruptly, her gaze traveling from Flann, perched on Carrie’s desk, to Carrie.
“Oh, sorry,” Abby said quickly. She hurriedly handed several papers to Carrie. “They told me in personnel that Presley needed to sign these. I thought I’d just walk them back.”
Carrie straightened and took the forms. “Of course. I’ll see that they’re completed and get them down there before lunch.”
“Thanks.” Abby turned to Flann. “Nicole Fisher—that’s the patient from the motorcycle accident—is stable. Neurosurg should be reviewing her repeat CT about now. I’ll give you a call when they’re done.”
“I’ll be up in a few.”
“Of course.” Abby glanced from Flann to Carrie again, her face smooth and cool. “I’ll see you there, then.”
She turned and quickly disappeared.
“Did you want to see Presley?” Carrie said, sounding oddly formal all of a sudden.
“For a minute,” Flann said contemplatively, wondering how much Abby had heard of her and Carrie’s bantering date talk. Not that she should have cared. Oddly, though, she did. Pushing that irrational reaction aside, she slid off the desk and tilted her head toward the door to the inner sanctum. “Can I go in?”
“I think she’s got a few minutes before a conference call. Let me check.” Carrie typed and a second later said, “Go ahead.”
“Don’t forget to call me.” Flann knocked once on the door, stepped inside, and closed it.
Presley was behind her desk, making notes on a pad.
Flann flopped into a chair in front of Presley’s big desk—the one that used to be her father’s and everyone expected to one day be Harper’s—and crossed her ankle over her knee. “Morning.”
“Flann.” Presley smiled. “I was just about to call you.”
“I had a few minutes between cases, so I thought I might as well drop over and save you from tracking me down.”
“I hear you met Abby.”
“I did. You didn’t waste any time getting her here.”
“There’s no point in wasting time. Every day we are losing money. I know you and Harper and Edward aren’t happy about the changes that are coming, but they’re coming, and we’ve all agreed.”
Flann blew out a breath. “I know, and I know you’re right. It’s just hard.”
“I mean to do everything I can to see that the Rivers stays a community hospital, with community doctors and nurses and staff serving the community. But we don’t have enough qualified physicians to expand our facilities, and an independent ER will bring revenue to SunView that I can funnel into the hospital, as well as referrals that we would have lost otherwise.”
Flann grunted. In this she and Harper were attuned. They didn’t care about money, they cared about practicing medicine. Her father was the same, and his before him. Unfortunately, doctors were often terrible at business, and the doctors who had been influential in running the hospital for 150 years hadn’t moved fast enough with the times. She got it. She knew Presley was their best chance. But she also knew when the ER residency program started and new blood started moving in, the dynamics within the hospital would shift. Trainees who hadn’t grown up here, who had no roots here, would be treating patients they hadn’t grown up knowing. The personal touch would disappear, and with it, some degree of the personal responsibility that got her and Harper and their father up out of a warm bed at night to see that a patient got the best care possible.
The changes had already started, and it’d only been a few weeks since the takeover. The ER was no longer under the control of the department of surgery. Abby Remy was now in charge, but a good 50 percent of Flann’s practice was ER based. She saw all the trauma patients and all the acute med-surg problems, and she was used to being the one to call the shots. “Remy is young,” Flann said. “She just finished her fellowship, right?”
“She’s not young in age or experience,” Presley said. “She missed a few years and it took her longer to finish med school than it might have, so she came out of her residency a little bit later.”
“Why the delay?” Flann said. “She certainly seems smart enough.”
“She had a young child, and she was raising he—him pretty much on her own until her mom could relocate and help out.”
Flann sat up straighter. “She’s married with a kid?”
“No, she’s a single mom.”
“How old’s the kid?”
“Blake is almost sixteen.”
“Wow.” Flann whistled. “She doesn’t look old enough to have a fifteen-year-old.”
“We were in college.”
“And she made it through college and med school and an ER fellowship with a kid. Okay, I’m impressed.”
Presley laughed. “That’s what it took to impress you?”
“I don’t doubt your MBA from Wharton was tough to come by, but you have no idea what it’s like being a resident, especially when you’re female with kids. Nobody has room for a resident who leaves early because a kid is sick or has an after-school event. That’s what wives are for.”
Presley stared. “I don’t believe you just said that. You might be a surgeon, but you’ve never struck me as chauvinistic.”
“It’s not about being chauvinistic, it’s just the way it is. Any medical resident has a tough time having a family, and surgery is longer and tougher. But a woman has it even harder. And a single mom?” She shook her head. “Your friend Abby must have a spine of steel.”
“She’s one of the strongest people I know,” Presley said. “So try to give her a break, will you?”
“I’m not planning to give her a hard time.”
“Thanks.” Presley hesitated. “So we’re good? You’re not mad at me anymore?”
Flann grinned. “You’re hard to stay mad at. Even if you didn’t make my sister stupid happy, you’d still be hard to stay mad at.”
