Between Me & You: An Enemies to Lovers Workplace Romance (Remington Medical Book 3)

by Kimberly Kincaid

  Of that, she was certain.

  Opening the door to the office, Harlow glanced toward the passageway leading to the clinic’s main space. The murmur of voices, punctuated by laughter, made a swift grab at her attention, and she headed toward it with a three to one ratio of curiosity and unease. The latter quickly disappeared as she picked Connor’s deep rumble from the trio of voices, and she rounded the corner to peek into the brightly lit room.

  The curtains that normally separated the space into exam areas had all been pulled back on their ceiling-mounted tracks, making the room look larger and even more open than usual. The nurses’ station in the center stood empty, four evenly spaced gurneys flanking the rectangular hub on either side. Connor sat comfortably sprawled over one despite his huge size, a slice of pizza in one hand and a huge, wide-open grin on his face, and the other two people—wait, was that Natalie Kendrick sitting with her feet propped up in Jonah Sheridan’s lap?—occupied the gurney two over from his.

  Natalie caught sight of her first. “Oh! Hi, Harlow.” She straightened against the gurney she was sharing with Jonah and gave up a genuinely friendly smile. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

  “There’s a lot to be done, unfortunately.”

  Natalie nodded, and ugh. Of course she already knew that. Harlow had offered the woman the job four weeks ago. God, she was so off her game right now. But come on, how could she have expected a pizza party in curtain areas one through four? And that grin on Connor’s face, so affable and loaded with pure happiness?

  The smoldering scowl he liked to lob her way at regular intervals was bad enough. But that smile? Her composure didn’t stand a fucking chance.

  If Natalie noticed Harlow’s flustered state, she was too polite to acknowledge it. “Yep, that’s why we’re here. Friends make the best reinforcements.”

  “Friends who spring for pizza in exchange for your help in training their staff, you mean,” Jonah teased, but wait…

  “You’re helping train the staff here?” she asked. Jonah already worked full-time hours as a surgeon, and Natalie—Harlow’s throat knotted—had been diagnosed with cancer last month. Langston had said Natalie’s prognosis was far better than that of most cancer patients when he’d given Harlow the news, but still. She knew from watching firsthand how grueling and awful aggressive chemotherapy was. She’d sat with her mother during every single brutal treatment.

  Not that they’d worked.

  Stop. Stop thinking about it. Right. Now.

  “Sure,” Natalie said, lifting her chin at Connor, who had gone oddly quiet and halfway back to brooding. “I mean, I had to convince these two to let me, of course. They’re so overprotective. But seriously, what are friends for?”

  “You didn’t have to convince me.” Connor tossed a balled-up paper towel at her, which Natalie caught one-handed.

  She made a sound that bordered on a snort before looking at Harlow. “He called everyone but me to help, and only agreed to let me in on the action under, like, seven separate circumstances.”

  “Stop exaggerating. It was only five,” Connor said, making Natalie laugh.

  “I’m sorry. Who’s everyone, exactly?” Harlow blinked.

  Jonah did not. “Oh, yeah. Tess. Charlie and Parker. Emmett Mallory. If I’m not mistaken, there’s even a plan to get Vasquez, Young, and Boldin in on things.”

  “If Langston agrees,” Connor said, swiveling his attention to Harlow. “Vasquez, Young, and Boldin are interns. Along with Parker Drake.”

  “And you’re close friends with all of them?” How was that even possible?

  “Nope,” Natalie said cheerfully. “He’s close friends with the attending physicians, though, and if Langston okays it—”

  “He’ll okay it if we okay it,” Jonah interjected. “Volunteering to help train the staff here at the clinic will give his staff better skills. It’s a win-win.”

  “Then you’ll get some much-needed help around here,” Natalie finished.

  Harlow’s holy-shit-o-meter came thiiiiiiis close to redlining, and she grabbed onto the first thought she could pluck from the spin-cycle of them in her brain. “Apologies, Dr. Sheridan. Did you say volunteer?”

  “Sure did,” Jonah agreed. “Connor told us you guys are tight on funds, and like Nat said, what are friends for? Plus, Connor sprang for pizza. And beer for Mallory. And babysitting for Tess—that one’s going to be epic, by the way. How could we say no?”

  “Hey! I’ll have you know that babies happen to love me,” Connor said, throwing another balled-up paper towel—this time at Jonah—which Natalie also caught, one-handed.

  “Okee dokee, Mary Poppins. Have fun on diaper duty.”

  Jonah laughed while Connor gave up a good-natured grumble about having seen a lot worse, and it was official. This was the most surreal exchange Harlow had ever witnessed.

  “Anyway,” Natalie continued. “I’ve already been volunteering here for months, remember? I mean, I’ll have to be pretty careful about it now. I can’t interact with patients. Too many germs, compromised immune system. Stupid leukemia.” She paused to roll her eyes. “But I’m still assisting the hospital with other projects—”

  “As you’re able,” Jonah reminded her, and Harlow quickly realized the depth of their romantic involvement. The trauma surgeon was normally charming to a fault. The fiercely protective flash that had just whisked through his stare? Definitely not casual.

  “Natalie’s only going to help if she feels up to it and if her doctors clear her for the workload,” Connor said. His tone was a little lighter than Jonah’s, yet no less honest. “That was the deal, doc. Your health first, no exceptions. You promised.”

  “I know, I know, and I’ll keep to it.” Natalie lifted a hand like she was taking an oath, leaning against the gurney-back that was propped behind her shoulders. “I don’t want to get sick any more than you guys want that for me. But I can still help train your nurses and PAs on good protocol. I’ll just have to get a little creative with the when and where. I adjust my work schedule around my chemotherapy sessions as it is. We’ll figure it out.”

  Harlow’s heart squeezed again, despite her will. “That’s very kind of you, but I have to agree with both Connor and Dr. Sheridan. It’s important that we err on the side of caution when it comes to your health.”

  “We will,” Jonah said. “Believe me.”

  Natalie smiled, gesturing to the two pizza boxes keeping Connor company on his gurney. “Since neither of these two heathens asked, would you like to join us? I know it’s not glamorous, but Big Johnny’s pizza is a-ma-zing, and it’s still pretty warm.”

  The thought of the breakfast she’d shared with Connor, complete with embarrassing food-love moans and so-hungry emotions, came winging back through Harlow’s brain in Technicolor. “Oh. Ah, that’s very thoughtful of you, but no. I…have somewhere I need to be.”

  It was the slimmest version of the truth, seeing as how she was talking about a tryst with her couch, her laptop, and a glass of merlot, but whatever. She wasn’t about to dig into the semantics. Especially not when Connor’s stare had just gone as steely as storm clouds from his spot on the gurney.

  “It’s dark out. Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Jonah asked, and the genuine kindness of his offer put another dent in her armor.

  “Thank you, but that’s really not necessary. I was here early, so I got a spot close to the building.”

  “You really can’t be too careful,” Connor said. “Let one of us walk you out, Harlow.”

  Her gaze landed on his, sending an odd feeling through her chest. She wasn’t used to anyone looking out for her; at least, not with friendly concern. But Connor’s eyes still brimmed with intensity, and if she wasn’t careful, he’d see right through her, and she could not look weak in front of him, no matter how enticing the idea of being cared for was.

  So Harlow shook her head as she waved goodnight and turned toward the door.

  “I can assure you, I’ll
be fine.”

  And she would, because she always was. Tonight wouldn’t be any different.

  No matter how much the sudden ache in her chest wanted to argue.

  Four days later, Connor was mere inches from zombie status. Other than a handful of five-hour stints with the bed in his apartment and a couple of very stolen, sadly brief power naps on a gurney after—before?—hours at the clinic, he’d been nose to grindstone, his brain completely occupied by taking this staff training plan from theory to practice and his body going along for the ride. Mallory, Jonah, Charlie, and Tess had all rotated through volunteer shifts this week, and although it had required all the people skills he owned, Connor had managed to convince Langston that allowing the interns to fill one eight-hour shift per week at the clinic would help strengthen their budding leadership skills.

  “Of course they’ll be supervised by a doctor or a PA if they treat patients,” Connor had said, and it hadn’t been some bullshit line. He wanted the extra hands on deck, sure, but if there was one thing he’d learned above all others in the Air Force, it was that rules weren’t made to be broken—at least, not unless you wanted a court martial with a side of dishonorable discharge. This class of interns was proving to be sharper than most, and, as such, they knew their protocol. Yeah, they’d maybe miss scrubbing in on a cool surgery or two, and yeah again, they didn’t seem to be thrilled about doing so in favor of modeling their battle-tested time management skills. But it was only temporary, until Connor’s staff got a really solid feel for how a busy clinic should operate, and anyway, he’d promised to make it worth the interns’ while by reviewing tricks for more challenging procedures with them in exchange for their help. Also, maaaaybe springing for their coffee for a week straight.

  It had taken an avalanche of effort, but now that he had the plan in motion, all he needed to do was gain measurable success by Harlow’s Monday deadline, and he’d be just fine.

  Harlow and her fucking deadlines.

  Connor got out of his Jeep Wrangler, turning up the collar of his leather bomber jacket to brace himself against the early morning wind. The reasonable part of his grey matter told him that Harlow wanted what he wanted, and that maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on her. She had been working the same crazy hours as him this week, and she’d made it plain as the ink on his arms that her number-one goal was to get the clinic back on track.

  But then the part of him that knew exactly what she was about kicked in, good and goddamn hard. She was a businesswoman. She didn’t pour a cup of coffee without strategizing everything from the sugar to the stirrer to the sipping, and she’d made her stipulations wildly clear. Harlow had almost certainly given him the chance to train the staff because she thought he’d fail, and it was the clearest path to getting what she wanted.

  Too bad for her, Connor had been manipulated by the best. He knew her strategy, and he was going to beat her at her own game.

  He didn’t fail. And he sure as shit didn’t do business.

  Taking care of people was more than that.

  Aiming himself at the clinic’s main entrance, he shook off the weariness in his muscles, forcing himself to breathe deeply. The sun was sending purplish hints toward the edge of the horizon, and even though the thing wouldn’t actually make daybreak official for another forty-five minutes or so, Harlow’s shiny silver BMW sat on the street in front of the building. She’d arrived at o-dark-thirty every day this week, working well into the evening, just like him, before heading for home.

  I have somewhere I need to be.

  Harlow’s voice, poised and polished and yet somehow just throaty enough to drive him crazy in the good way, threaded up from his memory. Of course she does, you big dummy, Connor thought, crossing the street and riffling through his pocket for the freshly minted front-door key he’d received courtesy of the building manager a few days ago. They might square off on a daily basis, but anyone with more than two brain cells could see how beautiful she was, not to mention smart, which—let’s face it—was even hotter. He should have realized that a woman like Harlow would have more important things to do than hang out with a bunch of volunteers, even if Natalie and Jonah were both MDs. She’d never mentioned a significant other, but she might even have someone waiting for her at home. Eager to hear about her day. To make her laugh. Wanting her.

  Just like he really fucking needed have a come to Jesus meeting with the fact that what Harlow did at home was none of his damned business. They were co-workers. Nothing more. For Chrissake, she was practically the enemy.

  Despite the unexpected and moderately disarming handful of moments he’d spent wanting her.

  Shaking the chill from his shoulders and the thought from his clearly addled head—this time, for good—Connor did the whole key/lock/alarm code dance to get inside the building. The alarm had already been disarmed, just as he’d expected, so Connor made his way toward the office to let Harlow know he was here.

  The sound of her voice filtering through the open door at the end of the hallway caught his attention, the stress in her tone jabbing him directly in the gut beneath his light blue scrubs.

  “Yes, Dad. I’m well aware that making changes to the staff is the first thing we always do. I’ve worked on plenty of restructuring contracts before.”

  The ensuing silence where a reply belonged told Connor that Harlow had to be on the phone rather than having the chat with her old man in person, and his cross-trainers whispered to a halt on the linoleum. A tiny part of him warned that he should about-face and lumber his ass back to the intake desk, where he could plug in his laptop and get to work without eavesdropping on Harlow. But she’d left the door to their office wide open, and she knew he kept the same sort of hours she did. Anyway, she was clearly talking about the staffing plan they’d already agreed to, and damn it, he should have known that the chance she’d given him was too good to be true.

  With his pulse kicking in his throat, Connor moved to call her on it, once and for all. But then the sound of his name coming from her mouth kept him rooted to his spot.

  “I understand that the clinic is different,” Harlow said evenly. “That’s why we’re doing things a little differently here. Connor is working on a plan for the staffing that will allow for improvements while staying within budget. Yes, he’s already implementing it. Yes, the board will get a full update on Monday.”

  Another pause, during which Connor’s curiosity burned like wildfire, and then she said, “Yes, I stand behind the move.”

  Just like that, his curiosity turned into flat-out shock. All business, all-the-time Harlow hadn’t just given him a shot to fix the staffing issues without making cuts.

  She’d gone to bat for him.

  With her father.

  “Of course I have a contingency plan,” she continued, and man, the blush came off that rose fast. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll make cuts and re-staff where necessary as the budget allows. I realize time is a crucial factor. I’ll send you the detailed plan before the board meeting on Monday. By then, we’ll either start to see results or we won’t.”

  The few seconds of silence that followed did nothing to restore Connor’s vitals to their normal resting state. Especially when Harlow ended with, “I know it’s unorthodox, but Connor is here to change operations for the better, and this is his area of expertise. Okay. Yes. I’ll see you then.”

  Connor stood there for a minute, then another, trying like hell to process what had just happened. Harlow had given him a shot to do things his way, even though she’d made it plain she didn’t agree with his methods. She’d even backed him up to her old man, who clearly felt she was making a mistake by supporting Connor’s plan.

  There had to be a catch.

  A second later, he was in the doorframe. “You just went to bat for me.”

  It was a graceless opening, he knew. Of course, Harlow’s wide-eyed blink lasted for less than a second before she replaced it with unshakeable calm.

  “Is eavesdropping a regular ha
bit of yours, or is this a special occasion?”

  Touché. “I didn’t snoop on purpose. You left the door open,” Connor pointed out. “I was coming down the hallway and I happened to overhear you talking about my staffing plan.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Keeping my father up to speed on the clinic’s progress is an integral part of my job.”

  Christ, but her Ivy League mouth matched the rest of her, elegant and intelligent and so fucking hot.

  He moved into the office, shrugging out of his coat and a couple of inhibitions along the way. “Did you mean what you said?”

  “I don’t ever say things I don’t mean,” Harlow replied, and while the claim didn’t shock Connor, the repercussions of it sure as shit did.

  “So, you really do stand by me?”

  Harlow’s lips parted, her lashes fanning wide, and she looked as stunned as Connor felt. “I…”

  The pure emotion on her face lit a glimmer of something that felt a lot like hope in Connor’s chest, and he didn’t wait for her to finish. “Look, I know you’ve got your philosophies, and that they work in a lot of situations. You wouldn’t be where you are if they didn’t. But we have to focus on the human aspect first if we want to make the clinic successful. Good will prevail if we forget all this business crap and put care first,” he said, taking a step toward her with a smile. “I’m just so glad you finally see that.”

  In an instant, her demeanor changed, as if a door had slammed over her wide-open expression, shuttering it as if it had never existed.

  “Business isn’t crap. In fact, taking the business aspect out of a business is the fastest way to ensure that it will never succeed,” she bit out. “And make no mistake. The clinic is a business. It may provide care, but it earns revenue in exchange for its services or it doesn’t run. That is what I see.”