Maybe the place would feel more like home after he unpacked and made a trip to the grocery store. At least it was furnished, and Josh had thought to bring a few sheets and towels, but as far as dishes and the other stuff that made up a household . . . he’d left all that behind, and felt little enthusiasm about replacing it. The effort needed to turn this sterile space into a home seemed overwhelming. But he’d only signed a six-month lease, so he could find something else if the condo didn’t grow on him.
Everything he owned filled the two large suitcases now heaped next to the bed. At thirty-four years old, should his whole life fit so neatly into two suitcases?
“Pity party for one,” he murmured.
The offices of Langdon and Burke looked like an attorney’s space, not a medical practice. Plush beige carpet cushioned Josh’s footsteps as he walked through a quiet waiting room furnished in soft greens and blues toward a mahogany desk. Modern art a cut above the usual standard office paintings decorated the textured walls.
The receptionist behind the polished desk gave him a once-over from behind her computer, calculating eyes considering and then dismissing him.
He should have gotten that haircut. And worn a suit, but it was freakin’ August in Florida. A light sport coat seemed like more than enough of a concession to the office. Surely the other doctors didn’t wear suits and ties every day? What was the point? They’d be covered up with a lab coat. No one in the emergency room back home had cared if he’d missed a haircut or looked like crap, as long as it hadn’t affected his performance.
He missed his scrubs.
“Dr. Joshua Parker,” he told the receptionist. “I’m here to see Dr. Langdon.”
“Welcome, Dr. Parker. Have a seat.”
No one else occupied the waiting area. Where were all the patients? Too wired to sit, Josh paced the small room, pausing to glance at the current magazines precisely lined up in a single row on the coffee table.
“Dr. Parker?” An older man in, yes, an Armani suit came through the office door holding out his hand. “I’m Dr. Langdon.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Josh took the hand. Langdon’s firm grip, full head of white hair, and gleaming smile no doubt inspired confidence in his patients.
That brilliant smile faded as Langdon scanned Josh from head to toe. “You don’t look much like your picture in the hospital directory.” His mouth tightened. “Shall we go back to the conference room? Dr. Burke is waiting for us.”
Josh peeked into the two exam rooms on the way through the hall to the back offices. Both appeared like his aunt Edna’s sitting room, the one with the Chippendale chairs that no one was allowed to sit in. The exam beds were covered with regular linens. No cheap plastic and white paper covers here. Built-in oak cabinets hid the equipment.
He wanted to explore those cabinets. Langdon had told him during their phone interview that the office had more than the usual equipment found in most doctors’ offices, everything state of the art.
Those lovely exam rooms were as deserted as the waiting room. “Where is everyone?”
Langdon raised one feathery white eyebrow. “It’s concierge medicine, Dr. Parker. We go to the patients. They rarely come to us.”
“Then why have rooms at all?”
“Rarely. Not never. A few clients prefer to come in for the privacy. They may not want others in their house to know they’re seeing a doctor, or they may need advanced diagnostic equipment.”
Langdon led the way to a conference room holding an oval oak table. “Dr. Burke.” He gestured at the younger man pouring himself coffee at the sideboard. Josh eyed it hopefully.
“Help yourself,” Langdon said. “You seem like you could use it.”
Burke turned and offered his hand. “Samuel Burke. Good to meet you.” Burke gave him the same look Langdon had. “Rough night?”
“Very rough night.” After shaking Burke’s hand, Josh made for the coffee, pouring and taking one long sip. Ah, now that coffee was worth the wait.
He collapsed onto a chair at the table. His leg started bouncing the instant the caffeine hit his system. Carefully, he gripped the cup to keep from leaning his elbows on the table. He’d learned long ago that most people didn’t appreciate a vibrating tabletop. Paradoxically, the caffeine served to relax as well as energize. He sighed. “You wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”
“So I can assume you don’t always appear quite so . . . ah . . . untidy?” Langdon asked as he and Burke took their seats.
Josh frowned down at himself. So maybe his clothes were a little rumpled. That was the suitcase’s fault.
“I thought you people were always dressed to the nines.” Burke sounded amused.
Josh’s jaw dropped. “You . . . people?”
“New Yorkers,” Burke clarified, and then choked on his coffee. “Oh, you thought I meant . . . No. I don’t care if you . . .” He was turning red. “I’ll shut up now.”
Langdon simply looked puzzled.
Josh couldn’t help chuckling. “My bad. And to answer your question, if there was one in there somewhere, I got in very late last night. I didn’t have time to unpack.”
“Or cut your hair, I assume,” Langdon said.
“Wow.” Josh stared at him, his good humor fading as rapidly as it had appeared.
Langdon stared back. “Our clients expect a certain level of professionalism. I realize that you’re used to working in an ER.” He wrinkled his nose. “Scrubs, was it?”
“Yes, scrubs,” Josh snapped. “For the ER, where you get crapped on and bled on for hours. I’m well aware I won’t be wearing them for this job, but if you hadn’t cheaped out on my air ticket, I could have flown in to a closer airport, and then I wouldn’t have had to stop in the middle of freakin’ nowhere in the middle of the freakin’ night to render aid at a freakin’ accident.”
When they both sat there blinking at him, he took a deep breath. “And there you go,” he concluded. “I got about two hours of sleep last night by the time it was all done and I found my place. I assure you, ironing my clothes was not high on the to-do list.”
“Understandably so.” Burke glanced at Langdon as if uncertain the older man would agree.
Langdon looked more annoyed if possible. “Did you need to stop?”
“I . . . Excuse me?”
“You knew you were starting a new job this morning. Surely someone else was nearby?”
Josh had no words.
“Of course he had to stop,” Burke said to Langdon. “He had a duty to rescue as a medical professional. There could have been legal consequences if he had bypassed the situation and anyone found out.”
“I suppose,” Langdon said grudgingly.
Josh wasn’t sure that was true, but when he opened his mouth, Burke gave him a wink, so he shut up.
Burke ended that conversation by adding, “And as a member of our practice, that would not reflect well on us.”
“We certainly wouldn’t want that,” Langdon conceded.
“So.” Burke turned to Josh. “Perhaps you should take the rest of the day. Get settled in. What do you think, Dr. Langdon?”
“Highly irregular. But under the circumstances, perhaps it would be for the best. Yes, I’m sure you’ve been very busy lately, Dr. Parker, first with the recuperation, and then the move.”
Well, that was true, even if Josh didn’t like the way Langdon said it. “It’s my first day. I can’t take off.”
“It’s no problem,” Burke said. “Take your files home, put in a little time studying your new case load. Diane will give you your laptop and show you how to log in. You have ten patients.”
“Ten? That’s all?”
“For now.” Langdon’s lips thinned again. “The office of Langdon and Burke has a sterling reputation among the elite of South Florida. We won’t risk it until we feel comfortable that you’ve established yourself.”
Josh stiffened. “I have seven years’ experience in an emergency room. I graduated top of my c
lass at Columbia. I think I can—”
“No one doubts your clinical competence,” Burke interrupted. “But these clients require more than medical skills. They require handling.”
“‘Handling’?”
“It’s a different type of medicine than you’re used to.”
Josh stared at him.
“Finesse, Dr. Parker.” Langdon spoke with exaggerated patience. “For example, Mrs. Bollinger is one of your new patients. Her husband is a retired CEO, and their oceanfront mansion is quite impressive.”
“She’s a lovely woman,” Burke said. “But her husband travels quite a bit. This causes her some stress, so she may call with a variety of ailments.”
“And for heaven’s sake,” Langdon said impatiently. “When she calls, attend her right away and take her seriously.”
“Of course I will.” Josh looked between the two of them, feeling more and more baffled. “Even lonely hypochondriacs get sick.”
“All we’re saying,” Burke explained, “is that if she’s not sick, don’t tell her she’s not sick. She won’t take it kindly.”
“So you want me to give her a placebo?”
“You have a full supply of vitamins in the medical kit we’ll give you,” Burke said. “They won’t hurt, and maybe they’ll help. Who knows?”
Langdon shook his head. “Perhaps I should have kept Mrs. Bollinger. Her husband is very influential.”
Jesus. “If you don’t think I can do it, why did you hire me?”
“Let me make this clear,” Langdon said. “You are here because Dr. Shaw is one of our most esteemed clients. He’s convinced you saved his life when he fell ill during his trip to that psychology conference in New York.”
“He wants you to be his doctor,” Burke added. “As for the other cases, we don’t want to overwhelm you. We know you’ve been through a lot.”
Anger tightened Josh’s chest, and he had to suppress the urge to walk out. “When is Shaw’s next appointment? I told him he needed to see a cardiac specialist. Has he scheduled that yet?”
“I’m sure it’s in the file.” Langdon gave his coffee a stir, clearly dismissing the topic. “He’s your patient now.”
In other words, Langdon had no clue.
“I admit I was in a hurry to leave New York,” Josh said. “Perhaps I didn’t do as much research on concierge medical practice as I should have. But don’t the patients pay big bucks for that personal touch? One of you must have been his doctor before I was hired.”
Langdon stood. “You’ve been here less than an hour, and you’re finding fault? Perhaps you should learn how things work first.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Burke jumped up and headed for the door. The poor man was going to have his work cut out for him if he planned to keep playing the role of peacemaker.
Josh got to his feet, ready to get out of that stuffy room and find out what was going on with his neglected heart patient. “I’ll take that laptop and review the file.” He turned for the door, muttering, “Maybe that paramedic was right after all.”
Then he grimaced: maybe he was the one being too quick to judge this time.
Burke froze with his hand on the doorknob. “What paramedic?”
Josh shrugged. “One of the responders at the accident last night. When he found out I was starting as a concierge doctor, he had a few things to say about it.”
Burke’s eyes narrowed. “Was it Manolas?”
“Yes. Ian Manolas. How do you know him?” Naples might be smaller than New York, but it wasn’t that small.
Langdon and Burke exchanged a look.
“He and his associates run a free clinic,” Langdon said.
“And?”
“An underground free clinic. I don’t think it’s even licensed any longer.”
“It must be.” Josh had only met Ian Manolas once, briefly, but the man had quoted procedure at him, for God’s sake. “Don’t they have a medical director?”
“They used to. I’m not sure they do now.”
“Then . . . you’re right, it can’t be licensed.” He battled an uncomfortable urge to defend Ian, although he was clearly in the wrong. “There must be a need.”
“Lower income families have a county-run clinic,” Langdon said, a startling edge of anger to his tone. “You told him your name?”
Josh nodded.
“Too bad. He’ll be after you to volunteer.”
“I doubt that. We didn’t exactly hit it off.”
Burke sighed. “He doesn’t give up easily.” He seemed to be speaking from personal experience. “He’ll be calling you, and when he does, you’d best turn him down for the sake of your license.”
“And for your own safety,” Langdon said. “That place is dangerous.”
“What? I should be afraid of sick kids with no health insurance?”
“Those kids have a place to go.” Langdon curled his lip. “The people who show up at that clinic don’t want to be identified. Drug addicts and criminals. That place should be shut down.”
“Drug addicts?” Josh steadied himself with one hand on the back of his chair.
As if realizing he’d scored a point, Langdon gave a smug smile. “Where else are they going to go? They’d be arrested if they showed up at the hospital, even if they had any money or insurance.”
Burke clapped Josh on the shoulder. “So there you go. No problem, right?”
“None at all.” Josh straightened. “I have no interest in becoming involved with Ian Manolas or his clinic.”
“Come on,” Burke said, making for the door again.
Once in the hall, Burke gave him a friendly glance. “Don’t pay attention to the stuff the old man said earlier. His concern with the reputation of Langdon and Burke makes him a stickler for appearances. Make the clients happy, and he’ll be happy.”
“I’ll do that up to a point. That point being whatever puts their health at risk.”
“We wouldn’t expect anything else.”
Josh slanted him a look. “You know how to handle him.”
Burke twisted the gold band on his finger. “He’s my father-in-law.”
“Ah.” Josh smiled. “How long have you been married?”
“Five years.”
“So you’ve had time to get to know him pretty well.”
“He’s all business when it comes to the office, but you’d be surprised how warm he is with my family.”
That was hard to picture, but Josh would have to take Burke’s word for it. “You have kids?”
Burke beamed. “A three-year-old boy and my baby girl just had her first birthday.”
“That’s great.”
Diane turned out to be the receptionist. With no one in the waiting room, she showed him his new laptop at her desk, helped him change the password, and continued to call him Dr. Parker after he’d told her to call him Josh.
Burke helped him load two large cases into the rental car. “See you tomorrow,” Burke called after him as he left. “I’m sure you’ll feel better after you get cleaned up and get some sleep.”
Josh rarely second-guessed himself, but . . . What the hell have I done? Leaving everyone, everything I know, behind for . . . this?
Josh pulled away from the high-end office building downtown, his grip on the wheel so tight his knuckles ached. “Sycophant bootlicker.” He could hear Ian’s voice in his head, and what the hell was that bastard doing in there? That man had no room to talk. If he did call, Josh would have no problem saying no to volunteering in a clinic that served criminals.
Not that Ian would call. He’d made his opinion of Dr. Josh Parker quite clear, and Josh had no interest in trying to change that opinion.
None at all.
Once away from the office, his grip loosened. That place was too quiet and perfect. God forbid a crying child with appendicitis or a construction worker who’d nail-gunned his hand should disrupt Diane’s perfect waiting room.
He hadn’t seen his own office, never mind Langdon’
s or Burke’s. Did he have an office? He kind of hoped not. Surely he didn’t need one if he was only making house calls. If he could do this job and hardly ever have to talk to, let alone see, Langdon or Burke, that would save them all a lot of stress. He and Langdon would never get along, and Burke would be eternally cast in the role of mediator; a difficult position when dealing with his own father-in-law.
He drove south on Tamiami Trail, torn between stopping for breakfast—and okay, a haircut—and heading home to crash.
Even though it was hot as hell and the sun beat down on them like the blinding light of judgment, people ducked in and out of the shops and restaurants, slowing him down and forcing him to concentrate. Families on vacation maneuvered their minivans past gray-haired retirees in Cadillacs the size of boats. He got stuck behind convertibles loaded with golf equipment meandering along at twenty miles an hour toward the scores of courses around the Bay.
The brief caffeine buzz from that lone cup of coffee at the office vanished, leaving Josh with heavy limbs and eyes scratchy from lack of sleep, but he wouldn’t be able to rest with a growling stomach.
He connected his phone to the car’s Bluetooth, turned on something upbeat, and then cranked up the air conditioner. The icy blast and the tunes helped to revive him. He wanted to explore the beaches and the pier, but that wasn’t going to happen today. Right now, he’d settle for food and bed.
Stopping at a light, he drummed his fingers on the wheel and hummed along tunelessly. No one had ever accused him of having any musical talent.
His phone ringing interrupted him as he passed through the intersection. He used the car to answer without checking the Caller ID.
“Parker here,” he sang, hoping to annoy the heck out of either Langdon or Burke. They’d hustled him out of the office so fast they’d probably forgotten to have him fill out some paperwork.
The Doctor Takes a Detour Page 3
