by Caro Carson
He didn’t agree or disagree. He only watched her as she pleaded.
She touched his sleeve again. “Will you give me a day? If I find out what I still have to offer you, would you be willing to consider me again?”
He let several seconds of silence tick by before he spoke. “Will I consider what you have to offer? That’s one hell of a question, coming from my former fiancée.”
Whatever answer she’d expected, it hadn’t been that. Not that personal. They’d kept everything strictly professional to this point. It felt as though he’d violated some invisible boundary by bringing up their intimate past so bluntly.
The elevator stopped to let an elderly couple on. The man was in a wheelchair; the woman was pushing him with the ease of long experience. He made a gesture to his right, and she picked up the paperwork that was tucked under his right side and placed it in his hand. Effortless communication.
Had anything been as easy between her and Braden?
Yes—making love.
And they’d conceived a baby. Too easily. Without trying. Without wanting to.
She’d miscarried that pregnancy the same way.
The memory threatened to completely breach any wall she’d maintained to this point. Before it could overwhelm her, she spoke quickly and quietly to Braden.
“You know perfectly well that West Central has excellent resources to conduct research. You need facilities and patient bases and sites. Just give me a day to get my bearings, and we can meet again to find out how we can help one another’s companies.”
The elevator reached the lobby level. Braden maintained his silence.
She didn’t. “You know I need to replace the funds you just withdrew. I’ll be offering West Central to other biotechs and pharmas.”
She had seconds to convince him as he courteously waited for the wheelchair couple to exit. “If you don’t want what I have to offer, someone else will. I’m giving you the right of first refusal.”
Braden cut his gaze to her. She stayed where she was, silently demanding an answer.
He walked out of the elevator instead.
“Braden,” she called after him. Damn it all, she was losing him. Losing PLI’s funding.
Braden turned around and looked her up and down, just once, as she stayed in the elevator.
“I’m returning to New York. Now. The PLI representative for the state of Texas is Cheryl Gassett. I’m sure your assistant knows her and has her contact information. If you find that you can make PLI an offer, call Cheryl.”
The elevator doors slid closed, separating them with finality.
Alone, Lana knew she could cry without embarrassment. She could punch the door with impunity. She could collapse in a heap of exhaustion.
None of it would change the past. She pushed the button that reopened the doors, exited the elevator and walked in the opposite direction that Braden had taken, toward her office. Toward her future.
Braden’s rejection had changed the course of her life once. She couldn’t let him derail her again.
Chapter Four
Braden needed to leave the hospital. He was done here. Done. There were too many emotions. Too many bad memories.
Too much Lana. Here, in the flesh. Not a memory of her, which he’d come ready to bury. No, the woman herself was here. Vibrant. Passionate. Real.
He was too old to be blinded by sexual attraction. Chemistry had never been their problem, so it shouldn’t surprise him now that it still existed at some level.
A level a little too dammed close to the surface...
He walked past the chapel without slowing, without stopping, without so much as throwing a glance at its doors. The entire reason he’d bothered himself with flying to West Central personally had been to stop in that chapel. He’d proposed to Lana there, and he’d had some idiotic notion that by saying goodbye to the memory of that promise, he’d be free to propose to another woman, elsewhere.
God, he was a fool. What an idiotic, sappy idea for a man of science and business to entertain, let alone act upon. If he was ready for a permanent relationship, then he’d make a commitment to the woman of his choice, and damn his youthful college engagement to hell. Lana certainly had. She’d dumped him over the phone and mailed his engagement ring to his Harvard address in an empty tongue depressor box.
Six years ago. He was over it. He was dating Claudia St. James now, a woman who could make a perfect wife for a professional man like himself, but damn it, seeing Lana in person had been a shock. Braden, don’t go, she’d practically shouted, and the plea in her voice had kept him from stepping on the elevator. His response had probably been an old reflex, a bad habit ingrained long ago. Still, it had been damned disconcerting.
He stopped abruptly at the corner of a garden fountain, disoriented for a fraction of a second. There was a fountain in the lobby now? Yes, and he’d nearly walked into it, distracted by thoughts of Lana.
He should not be distracted by his past. He’d come here to begin his future, and he’d already picked out the right woman to spend the rest of his life with. Claudia never caused him to walk into fountains, thank God.
Braden kept walking, past the paintings of his father and the other founders, not breaking his stride as he threw a glance at the modern domed ceiling. The renovated lobby looked more like it belonged to an elegant hotel than a hospital. It was a far cry from the single-story construction his father had begun. Would his father have approved of the changes if he’d lived to see them?
Braden imagined that patients who were sick and worried would appreciate the welcome this new lobby extended. It had an air of grace and authority that could be reassuring when patients arrived with serious health concerns. They’d probably feel hope, as though they’d come to the right place. His father, Braden decided, would have approved of the modern West Central. He would have approved of the job his son was doing.
That son being Quinn, of course. Quinn was the only MacDowell on the hospital board.
Dad had not approved of the job I was doing.
His father had always expected him to follow in his footsteps. Braden had tried. He’d tried for his father’s sake, and then he’d kept trying after he’d met Lana, but by his last year of residency, he’d known the life of a family-practice physician was not for him.
He’d wanted to show his father and his fiancée that his life could be a different kind of success. He had shown them, really. He’d graduated magna cum laude from arguably the best graduate school in the country, perhaps in the world. He’d gone on to be a key player in the biotech industry, working to contribute valuable medicines and devices not just to the city of Austin but to all people, all around the globe. But his dad had died before that first patent had made it to the marketplace, before he’d been able to prescribe any of the drugs his son had chosen to develop.
And Lana? Hell, she’d mailed his ring back before he’d even graduated.
Still, Braden was one of the most successful men in America, if only someone besides his accountant appreciated it.
Claudia St. James appreciates success.
Exactly. He needed to keep his thoughts in the present. Braden realized his steps had taken him to the former main entrance of the emergency department. An involuntary smirk lifted one corner of his mouth despite his bitter feelings. Not even the resurrected emotions of a broken engagement and a disapproving father could disengage his mind completely. His day’s agenda had included a quick visit to his younger brother, another physician, of course. Jamie worked here in the emergency department. Without trying, Braden had stayed on schedule.
This entrance to the E.R. was now a shortcut for staff only, and the heavy double doors were unlocked when personnel waved a badge in front of the security box on the wall. A man in scrubs stepped up to the box and lifted his name tag. A tiny light blinked from red to green, and the doors swung open slowly. The man nodded at Braden deferentially, probably assuming he was an off-duty physician.
Technically, B
raden was a physician, one who was not on duty. The man had made an accurate assumption, then. Braden returned the man’s nod and followed him into the treatment area. He stopped at the centrally located wraparound desk. “Where can I find Dr. MacDowell?”
The nurse he’d addressed frowned at him slightly. “And you are...?”
From long practice, he smiled at her with just the right amount of professional friendliness. “Please tell Dr. MacDowell that Dr. MacDowell is here to see him.”
Her frown lifted into a smile. “I should have guessed from the resemblance. He’s just back from his honeymoon, but you must be one of the bachelor MacDowells.” She tilted her head at an attractive angle and winked at him.
Braden returned her smile with very little effort. The world was returning to normal. Women liked him. He liked women. It was only Lana Donnoli that made him feel irritated. Angry. Vaguely dissatisfied with his life.
“Is that you, Braden? Can’t be. That would make three times in one year that you’ve come to Texas.”
Braden turned at the sound of his brother’s voice. Jamie was the youngest son, Braden the eldest. They shook hands, which quickly morphed into a one-armed hug. More of a slap on the shoulders, really. They were exactly the same height, something that never failed to catch Braden by surprise. Jamie had only been in middle school when Braden had left for college. Somehow, Braden always expected him to still be the runt baby brother.
“What’s the occasion?” his six-foot-tall runt of a brother asked. “Is New York City finally wearing on you? Don’t tell me you missed me.”
Braden should have had a quick comeback for that one, the kind of jokingly derogatory comment brothers would exchange, but he was startled into a momentary silence by the realization that he had, in fact, missed Jamie. It had been good to see him at a charity event in the fall. Even better to see him for a few days in December, when he’d carved out some holiday time to get to know Jamie’s new wife and his baby. Jamie’s family.
Family. Braden hadn’t spent much time with his family after turning his back on practicing medicine. He’d avoided Texas for years after his broken engagement, if he was honest with himself, but that was about to change. Whether Lana would be here or not, it was time to come back home.
Braden would soon announce that PLI was investing millions in a new research center. It had taken all the business savvy he’d gained over the years to pull it off, and he’d cashed in every chip he’d been owed, but Braden had convinced PLI’s board to build the facilities in Austin. Just as his father had contributed this hospital to the community, Braden would contribute a major biotech research and development site to his hometown.
Look, Dad, I’m following in your footsteps.
The tension in his shoulders eased. Had he lived to see it, his father would have been unconditionally proud. Braden knew that. He expected his mother and brothers would feel the same way when they found out.
Braden couldn’t tell them yet. The Securities and Exchange Commission had strict rules against corporate presidents leaking that kind of information too soon. For now, he’d have to content himself with giving his baby brother a hard time.
“As if your ugly mug would be enough to drag me across the country,” he said, resisting the urge to throw a fake slo-mo punch at Jamie. Those childhood habits died hard. “But your wife’s pretty face, that’s another matter. Is Kendry working today?”
“She’s home, studying for an exam. Nursing school is no cakewalk. Better her than me.”
“Beautiful and smart. Driven. My kind of woman.”
“She’s all that and more, but since married women aren’t your thing, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“This trip was strictly business,” Braden lied. He wasn’t about to confess his idiotic notion of visiting the chapel to formally end the promise he’d once made. “I was expecting to meet with Dr. Montgomery.”
“Montgomery? That old bastard is the reason you flew across the country? Now I am offended.”
“I wouldn’t have wasted the jet fuel if someone had bothered to inform me that Montgomery was no longer the head of research.”
“Until yesterday, I was basking in the sun under a coconut tree with Kendry. Good thing your company can afford the plane ticket.” To the nurse, Jamie gave orders for the patient whose cubicle he’d just left. “Nebulizer in four. Call me when the azithromycin IV is finished. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Braden followed Jamie into the kitchenette that the staff used during their round-the-clock shifts.
“I could have done without the surprise,” Braden said, once they were alone. He still felt off balance after seeing Lana.
“What surprise?”
“Dr. Montgomery’s replacement. Lana Donnoli.”
“That’s your Lana? From med school?”
“You didn’t know?” Braden crossed his arms over his chest and eyed his brother skeptically.
“I told you, I was on a beach. On my honeymoon.”
“The decision wasn’t made yesterday.”
“I’m just a lowly E.R. doc. You want to get pissed off at a brother, go find Quinn. He joined the board.”
Braden shook off the offer of the cup of coffee Jamie had just poured, so Jamie drank it himself, settling against the counter. “It sucks being back on my feet after spending a week in bed.”
“Yeah, life’s rough.” Braden’s sarcastic answer was automatic, but he knew his younger brother deserved every bit of happiness that came his way. While serving the country as an army physician in a war zone, Jamie had lost the first woman he’d loved. He’d come a long way since that dark period, and Braden was glad to see it. Still, he didn’t want to hear about honeymoon bliss. “In all seriousness, I’m glad civilian life is treating you well.”
“Don’t get all mushy on me. The coffee’s decent. Have some.”
Braden poured a cup and sat down in a plastic chair that looked like a waiting-room reject. “Lana’s too young to be the department head at a hospital this size.”
Jamie had the nerve to grin. “We’re still on that topic? Like I said, Quinn’s on the board, not me. But I noticed this morning that her name’s been added to the E.R.’s coverage list. I wondered if it was your Lana.”
“She hasn’t been my anything for years. I sure as hell hope Quinn didn’t give her this position out of some misguided idea that he’d be helping out an old family friend.” He drank the coffee black. No cream, no sugar to hide the true flavor.
Jamie was watching him closely. As the youngest, he’d been away at college during Braden’s engagement. He probably knew very little about the whole affair.
Braden explained. “Lana’s the one who called it off. Mailed the ring to me at Harvard and never spoke to me again.”
“And then you walked into the boardroom today and there she was?”
Braden rejected the sympathy he heard in Jamie’s tone. “That wasn’t an issue. I just don’t want you or Quinn thinking she’s some kind of family friend who deserves special consideration.”
“I don’t see Quinn letting your love life influence decisions about this hospital. He treats this place like Dad did, like it’s some kind of gift to the community.”
Hearing Jamie voice his own earlier thought out loud was both discomforting and reassuring. As children, they’d all competed with the hospital for their father’s attention, Braden supposed, although he’d always felt pride in knowing the medical complex was a MacDowell legacy.
One which he, the eldest son, had left behind. One from which he’d just pulled a million dollars of funding.
The coffee tasted like hell. Braden dumped his coffee down the sink and crushed the paper cup in his hand. “It’s good that Quinn takes it seriously. A nonprofit hospital is a gift to the community.”
By Valentine’s Day, the PLI deal would be final, and Braden would be legally able to tell his family about the research facilities, his own contribution to the city. He looked forward to pro
ving that he was still loyal to his hometown. The project was proof that Braden hadn’t abandoned his family or his father’s ideals, despite the way it may have seemed on the surface for the past six years.
Until then, what were another four or five days of misunderstanding? That subtle condemnation, that distrust, that assumption that he preferred to be a loner in the big city had started when he’d left Austin for Boston. When he’d left doctoring for big business. When he’d left Lana for—
For no one. He’d never left Lana. She’d done all the leaving.
Braden, don’t go. I want a second chance.
Her words today had shaken him, although she’d been talking about a second chance with his corporation, not with him. After she’d broken their engagement, he’d heard nothing but silence. If she’d spoken those words six years ago—or five, or four—he would gladly have taken her back, to be honest. But not now.
Now Braden was moving on. This Valentine’s Day, he intended to stake his claim as a MacDowell in Austin’s medical community. He also intended to announce the next phase of his personal life. He anticipated introducing Claudia St. James to his family, then proposing marriage to seal the deal.
After a six-year absence, he’d have a wife and an office in Austin, just as he’d always planned, although the office wouldn’t be a doctor’s office, and the wife wouldn’t be Lana.
He tossed his cup into the trash can. PLI and Claudia St. James would suit him just fine. Just fine.
Jamie tossed his cup in the bin, as well. “You don’t have to tell me the hospital is a gift. I know it is. Quinn knows it is. It’s possible that he was opposed to Lana’s appointment, but the rest of the board voted for it. You’ll have to ask him, since you suddenly give a damn about who chairs which department here.” Jamie pushed away from the counter and looked him in the eye.
