by K. Bromberg
“As the hospital advisor and program director, I must outwardly condemn what you did. In the same breath, I want you to know that your actions showed how human you are while the rest of us marvel at your extraordinary talents as a doctor.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m not sure what else to say, but thank you.”
I’m standing in the warm sunlight but chills blanket my skin.
“And if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.” He chuckles.
An awkward silence weighs on the line. I feel like he has more to say but isn’t saying it, and I sure as hell don’t want to stop him from voicing it.
“Okay then,” he finally says.
“Why were you checking on her, sir?” It’s the one thought that has been ghosting through my mind.
He falls quiet again, but I know he heard me because he hasn’t ended the call. “Because of Kelly Flink, Gary Goodman, Andre Bastly, Dominic Gaffney . . . I can keep going with the names. Those are all my Ivy’s, Slade. Those are all the patients who burrowed under my skin so deeply that after thirty years of practicing medicine, I still remember their names. I still have every detail of their case file memorized. All good doctors have those cases. All good doctors hold on too tightly at one time or another.”
Emotion tightens my throat, and I have to take a second before I can manage to say, “Thank you, sir.”
“For what?” He chuckles. “For reminding you that you’re human? For letting you know that if a patient didn’t get to you every now and again, I wouldn’t want you as my doctor?” He pauses. “I’m impressed with your work so far. I know I’ll be impressed with your work going forward when this matter clears itself up.”
“Thank you, sir,” I repeat before the call ends.
The shrieks of laughter break through the quiet of the trees. There are whoops and bursts of giggles.
Distracted, I find the owners of the voices right as the women come into view about a hundred feet in front of me. Fully clothed and led by none other than Blakely, they jog down the dock closest to our cabin and jump into the water. One after another. Cue more laughter and splashing.
The sight of them makes me smile.
Who am I kidding, Dr. Schultz’s words are partially why I’m smiling, but everything about what I’m watching is too.
Even better, it was Blakely who led the charge.
I don’t realize I’ve moved down the beach toward them until I hear someone clear their throat behind me. Turning, I find Heather standing there, arms over her chest, a look of disdain highlighting her face.
“Why aren’t you joining them?” I ask.
“She literally just stood up near the end of the meeting and said, ‘Do you know what we need? We need a water break!’ and bolted out the door with everyone following. Literally, every single one of them.”
“Except you.”
Her eyes flicker over to me. “I’m the boss. I can’t be doing that.”
But she wants to. Oh, how she wants to. I can see it in her eyes. The need to be liked. The want to be adored. The desperation to be followed the same way Blakely just was.
I don’t know how much younger Heather is than me, but she sure as hell missed the life lesson about leading by example. That, sometimes, it’s okay to bend the rules and have fun. That respect and admiration can be won through kindness.
“Sure you can,” I say. “Just because you’re the boss doesn’t make you any better than them, it just means you have more responsibility at times.”
“You obviously don’t know what I do.” Her insecurity reigns in the comment. Her need to prove she’s worthy of her position. Of her pay. Of their respect. I’ve watched it all week and don’t know how no one else sees it.
Then again, maybe they do but can’t exactly confront their boss about it.
But I can.
I’m not employed by Glam.
She emits a sound of disapproval as Blakely climbs up the side of the dock and then jumps in again like a little kid, cannonball and all.
“She doesn’t want your job, you know.”
“No one ever said she did,” she snaps.
“But, in your mind, she’s a threat to you when she really isn’t.”
“Why would I be threatened by her?”
“Because she’s damn good at her job, and she has every board member on her side. If you were a team, if you supported her for this promotion, you know she’d have your back with them going forward. With someone else? Who knows what would happen. Plus—look at them.” I motion to the women playing in the water like kids with her. “You have a team who looks up to her. They respect her because she respects them. If you do the same, they’ll respect you too.”
“They do respect me.”
“Fear and respect aren’t the same thing.”
She snorts. It’s her immature way of saying she isn’t sure how to refute me but wants to do it on principle anyway.
“I’m sure you’re every bit as talented and skilled in your own way, but having it and knowing how to use it to motivate people are two different things.”
“You’re out of line—”
“I beg to differ.” I turn to look at her. “My telling you to figure out how to accept Blakely’s experience is a whole hell of a lot better than letting you get sued for age discrimination and harassment after you force her out.” My smile is quick and the shake of my head subtle. “I’m pretty sure I know who the board would side with on that one. I mean, they offered your job to her before you, right?”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now from the glare she’s leveling at me, but I meet it with a half-cocked smirk.
“Slade!” Blakely is out of the water and walking toward us. Her clothes are clinging to her body, and she’s leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her as she heads my way.
But it’s the smile on her face that has me moving toward her without giving Heather and our conversation a second thought.
Because that smile is the most alive it’s been since I’ve met her.
“Inciting a riot, I see?” I ask before picking her up, soaking clothes and all, and holding her against me.
Yep, her eyes are even better this close.
She laughs. “I was being spontaneous.”
“Look out world, Blakely Foxx just might have found herself.”
“And I’m not finished quite yet,” she whispers.
“A full-fledged rebel.” I press my lips to hers, not caring who’s around to see the kiss I give her. “It’s such a turn on,” I murmur against her mouth.
“At your service.”
I slowly let her slide down the length of my body, soaking my own clothes as she goes, but I don’t care. I kiss her one more time as if we’re the only two people here despite the sounds of laughter in the water.
“What’s that for?” she asks.
“No reason,” I say even though it’s exactly what I needed after my call from Dr. Schultz.
A little bit of Blakely to kiss it and make it all better.
Blakely
Exhaustion settles deep in my bones and all I want to do is snuggle with Slade back on the dock and enjoy the moment. I don’t want to be here, about to do who knows what.
Sure, team bonding is why we are on this retreat, but my priorities have shifted a tad in the past few days.
He owns my mind. My body. And I’m not going to talk about the flutters I feel in my heart.
“Is this thing almost over yet,” Gemma groans to my right.
“Almost.” I slump back in my seat, close my eyes, and raise my face to the sun. At least the weather’s nice. At least there’s that.
“Christ,” she mutters, “how much more can we do today? Relay races, which this body did not want to do, and then archery? I mean, if she wants us to go Hunger Games on each other, she better watch her back. And now we have to go off into the woods and conquer some obstacle courses? How ‘bout I conquer a bottle of tequila behind the bar over there instead?”
/> I laugh loudly. “Just one more and then we’re done with the team-building crap.”
“Ah, you’re forgetting the game of He Said, She Said we have slated for later tonight.”
“Am I bad for wanting to say I’m sick so I can sneak away with Slade?” I ask teasingly when I’m very serious about it.
“Woman, I would have pretended to be sick this whole trip just for that man,” she whispers back. “How much you want to bet that Heather has this partner thing predetermined for this next thing? She’ll be partnered with Maddie because she’s still pissed off over your little rebellion this morning and she’ll have her bestie to vent to.”
A slow smile slides onto my lips. “She was partnered with Maddie, but I may have switched some names around.” I wink at her.
“You sly devil, you.” She looks at me with wide eyes. “When did you do that?”
“She asked me to grab her things for her during the last meeting. I might have switched the cards in the envelopes and pulled out Maddie’s.”
“Who’d you pair Heather with?”
“Me.”
“You what?” she asks, drawing looks of those around us. “Are you crazy?”
“It’s time the two of us put this to bed, and what better way to do it than to force her to work with me.”
“You’re kind of amazing.” She chuckles. “And I’ll save that bottle of tequila for you. You’re going to need it after being alone with her for the next few hours.”
“This is bullshit,” Heather mutters, quite the cheerful partner.
“You don’t like these obstacle courses?” I ask innocently as I glance over to her.
“Can you tell me where the hell I’m supposed to go?” she demands, the black bandana wrapped around her eyes.
“You’re doing just fine. Go straight like I said.” I tsk. “And remember your rules—the person wearing the blindfold isn’t allowed to talk.”
She growls deep in her throat, and my smile is as wide as can be because she’s at my mercy for the first time ever, and I love it.
Just like I loved the absolute shock on her face when she pulled out the envelopes that had the “random” pairings in them for teammates and saw she and I had been put together.
She had to have known it was me, but if she complained, then everyone would have known that she had handpicked to be partnered with Materialistic Maddie.
“Just stay the course. I’ll let you know before you trip over a log or run into a tree,” I say sweetly.
“Gee. Thanks.”
“Uh. Uh. Uh,” I warn. “Aren’t we supposed to lead by example? I mean, if you say no talking and then someone hears your voice through the trees, then you’ll have defeated the purpose of this whole exercise.”
We walk a few feet.
“One step to your right. Good job.” I glance over and can all but see her rolling her eyes through the blindfold. “So, now that I have your undivided attention, I’m going to ask the questions I think we both want to know the answers to. What is it with you, Heather? What exactly is the reason you hate me so much?” I touch her arm and pull her toward me so she avoids a rock. “Is it that you hate that I have experience? Is it that you hate anyone who challenges you to be better? Is it that you just want me gone so you can have your bestie from your last job get the promotion since you don’t know everything you professed to know and you need her to hold your hand? I mean, we have the time right now, and I’d really love to know.”
She’s silent for a few moments, but I know she’s stewing. Her silence won’t last long. I give her a few minutes before she loses her cool and explodes.
When I was blindfolded, the only words she gave were directions. Short, sharp words, and nothing else.
I think she was hoping I’d do the same.
Not on her life.
“Slow down. You’re going to step up in a few seconds. Okay. Right here.”
We walk in silence, but her anger only seems to grow.
“With you around, no one will ever take me seriously,” she spits out as if it’s the most vile insult on the face of the earth.
Good thing she can’t see my smile.
“And why would that be?”
“Like you don’t know.” She sighs.
“I don’t. Because I get the feeling that you think I want your job.” I stop in my tracks and watch her move slowly with her hands out in front of her like an idiot, and I shake my head in disbelief. “No, that can’t be it since you already know I turned it down.”
Her frustrated sigh overrides the quiet.
“It doesn’t matter how many times I tell you this because you’d rather make me out to be the enemy. If I’m the enemy, then you have every reason to tell the board you can’t work with me and therefore they should hire your friend for the position. What you don’t get, Heather, is that you’d benefit far more from being my ally than my enemy. What do you think the board would do if you really pushed them on this? Do you think they would fire me because you don’t get along with me, or do you think they would fire you because you can’t get along with a valued team member who has consistently produced solid, money making ideas?” Her teeth are grinding at this point, but when I say, “Stop,” she does and she pushes her hands out as if there is a tree right in front of her. “I think you’re smart enough to know the answer even if you refuse to verbalize it. Still, I’m serious when I say I don’t want your job. Our positions are supposed to complement each other, not be a rivalry.”
“Complementing each other? Is that what you call taking every chance you get to publicly question my decisions so that everyone knows you have more experience than me? It’s only a matter of time before the board sees that you are perfectly well-equipped to do both jobs and they’ll merge the positions like they did in my old company and then I’ll be shit out of luck.”
Merge positions? Is that what happened in her old job? I always assumed she quit.
Her silence and her lips parted in a shocked O tell me she didn’t mean for me to know this.
I stare at her and feel like so much makes sense now—her insecurity, her need to surround herself with people she trusts, her hostility—and yet, it doesn’t excuse her refusal to accept the olive branch I keep extending. She just keeps repeating the same nonsense, and it makes me wonder if I sounded like that when I was making my excuses.
Just like they did with me, hers are coming from insecurity.
While I feel disregarded because I’m older, Heather feels like she has to prove everything because she’s younger and lacks experience. Such similar scenarios, such different reactions.
“Can we walk and get this damn thing over with already?” she hisses the question and crosses her arms over her chest.
I move the few feet toward her. “Take the blindfold off.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Because if you and I are going to figure this out, it isn’t going to look like a hostage situation.” She stands there like a petulant child. “Take it off,” I order.
She rips the blindfold off and glares at me as she clenches her jaw. “Happy?”
“Look. We can either work together or apart, but I’ll be damned if you think you’re going to run me out of a company I’ve worked at for over half my life. I’ll say it one more time: I don’t want your job. Selling isn’t my thing, but I love figuring out how to put a bow on the damn package to make it pretty for you so you can sell it. When I do well, you do well. So, what you need to ask yourself is how you’re going to suck it up and work with me. It’s either that or find a new job. Got it?”
Heather stands there like a guppy opening and closing her mouth. Without her squad at her flanks, she doesn’t seem to have the balls to respond. The quick barbs are nonexistent, which is just further proof that her age and immaturity are part of the problem.
“I just don’t think that’s going to work.”
“Why?” I take another step toward her, determined to leave this retreat with whatever this
is between us solved. “Because you refuse to compromise? Or because you choose to see me as a threat instead of a resource or ally?”
Our eyes meet, hold, and she’s just about to say something when there is a loud noise about a hundred feet to our left. Part shuffling, part branches breaking, and I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Bear.”
“Bear!” Heather screams at the top of her lungs like a petrified child.
Be quiet.
Stay still.
I’m sure it isn’t a bear.
All three run through my mind but before I can say anything, Heather emits
a piercing scream seconds before lunging toward me in sheer terror.
It takes me a second to process that Heather’s clinging on to me for dear life. The same Heather who mocked me for being afraid of bears and told me I should fake it and lead by example is now trembling uncontrollably and babbling incoherently. Even weirder, I’m surprisingly calm.
“It’s okay. Shh. You need to stay calm,” I tell her as I look every which way I can to see if it was actually a bear that made the noise.
But while I can’t see anything, I can hear everything.
The shouts from the men as they barge through the woods toward us, their hero capes flying.
“Blake? Heather?” They shouted over and over.
“Over here,” I shout back.
“Bear!” Heather screams again before suddenly pushing off me a second before the men come into view.
“Are you guys okay?” Testosterone Ted reaches us first, but Slade is right behind him with Harley Hal and one of the activity directors from the lodge. They all look around cautiously, the activity director holding a can of bear spray up toward the trees around us in defense.
“Whatever it was is gone,” Heather says, her hands now shoved into her pockets to keep everyone from seeing how badly they are shaking.
“The way you screamed, I could have sworn it was eating one of you,” Hal says, huffing from the run to us.
There is more thrashing through the foliage, and we all spin around to see Maddie and Gemma jog to a stop.
“Who’s the one with those ear-splitting lungs?” Maddie asks, her gaze immediately landing on me.