Sebastiano winced. “Personal?”
“Yes, I don’t mean to pry.”
That seemed exactly what she was trying to do.
“I was wondering…are you happy here?” she asked.
Sebastiano frowned. “If you mean am I content with my job, you don’t need to worry that I am considering other offers.”
Iris pursed her lips. “That’s not what I mean. And I know you’ve been offered positions at larger hospitals.”
Sebastiano raised his eyebrows.
“However tantalizing some of these offers may be, I am a good enough judge of character to know that you wouldn’t think of leaving until new ground is broken and all the funds are raised.” She crossed her still trim legs at the ankles. “No, what I’m talking about has nothing to do with professional contentment. On the contrary, I’m talking about personal fulfillment.” She eyed him closely. “Are you happy?”
Sebastiano ground his back teeth. His dentist had warned him at his last checkup that he was doing this. “What is ‘happy’?” he asked.
“Please, I’m not discussing Schopenhauer here,” Iris said, dismissing his question. “Though after taking a course on German philosophy at the Adult School, I wouldn’t mind. Still, that is not the point of this discussion. What I’m getting at is that to me, you appear disconnected, which is not to say uninterested or lacking empathy. Nor am I referring to the fact that you seem overworked. What I mean to say, and, please, you must remember that I am not one to mince words.”
Sebastiano bit back a grin. “How could I forget?”
“What I mean to say then, is that you appear quite alone, one might even say lonely. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Sebastiano couldn’t think of anything he wanted less than company. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m really quite all right. There’s absolutely nothing wrong, and as a doctor, I make sure to stay atop my physical condition.”
“I’m not talking about blood tests and annual checkups,” Iris clarified.
“I understand, but rest assured.”
There was a knock. His office door swung open.
He narrowed his eyes, hesitated, then focused his attention again on Iris. “Trust me. Nothing’s wrong.”
A sarcastic laugh from across the room mocked his statement. “Well, you might not be able to think of anything wrong, but believe me, I can tell you more than a thing or two!” the irate female voice announced.
Sebastiano stood up. He buttoned the middle button of his charcoal-gray suit jacket. “Mrs. Phox…Iris…excuse this unexpected interruption. I’m not sure if you’ve met one of our obstetricians?”
Iris leaned around the side of the wing chair to get a view of the intruder. “Ah, Julie, my dear, so good to see you again. I was just speaking of you this morning.”
CHAPTER THREE
“DR. ANTONELLI. I WAS unaware we had an appointment.” Sebastiano stood stiffly. He shot the cuffs of his starched white shirt and straightened his sterling silver cuff links.
If he had wanted to appear more intimidating, it would have been difficult to say just how, Julie observed. Well, he could grow four more inches, she thought with a certain amount of self-satisfaction. She was six foot one in her stocking feet. Right now she had on clogs, her usual footwear for surgery, and she topped him by a good three inches.
It was a silly sense of superiority, but she’d take it. Because frankly, Dr. Sebastiano Fonterra scared her witless.
True, the old CEO of the hospital had never been her favorite person. He hadn’t seemed to be the brightest bulb, but he had been approachable, always appearing open to suggestions even when he didn’t have the least intention of following through on those suggestions. Still, he listened.
Sebastiano Fonterra was anything but approachable. He was aloof, often arrogant and, even more maddening, sexy as hell.
There was something about that voice of his—the faint Italian accent to an otherwise flawless command of English. The vowels were more distinct. The enunciation a little crisper. He simply didn’t have the lazy lips of American speakers. Although her female colleagues didn’t normally bring up the topic of enunciation when it came to discussing them.
Still, when she’d come storming in, dressed in her operating scrubs and minus a shower, enunciation had been the furthest thing from her mind. Not that her mind was functioning all that well after having been awake for more than twenty-four hours.
Julie slowly pulled off the blue cotton cap left over from surgery. Her short dark hair was matted to her forehead.
“Dr. Antonelli, I’m waiting,” Sebastiano said again.
Sebastiano might look gorgeous and wield more than a fair share of authority at the hospital, but she refused to be intimidated.
Iris Phox was a completely different matter.
Nevertheless, this was too important for Julie to back down now. “I have something that couldn’t wait.” She took a step forward, positioning herself to the right of Iris, who was sitting in the high-backed chair and within easy spitting distance of Sebastiano. Julie leaned forward and braced her hands on his desk. Spitting from this distance would be a slam dunk.
“I’ve just come from an emergency cesarean on a patient who had seized out from eclampsia.” Through her peripheral vision, she could see Iris’s blinking stare of fascination, but Julie narrowed her eyes and focused on the man across the desk.
“The mother made it?” he asked, still standing. There was no emotion in his voice.
“Yes.”
“And the baby?”
“Underweight and with a low Apgar score, but she’ll pull through.”
“I presume this came as an emergency room admit?” Sebastiano said.
Julie nodded.
“Then you are to be commended. They were lucky that you were on call.”
“This is not about me. This is about the fact that she had never received any prenatal checkups simply because the clinic is not open long enough during the day,” Julie decried in frustration. She threw up her hands…and bumped the glass vase. Before Julie could react, it skittered off the desk and seemed to hang suspended until it fell on the rug, thumped loudly, then bounced twice more. There was an ominous clink as it landed against the metal heater vent.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.” Julie rushed to retrieve the vase. She brought it back to the desk, wincing when she noticed a visible chip in the rim. “Please, I will gladly replace it.”
“You can’t. It’s a one-of-a-kind piece.” Sebastiano spoke so quietly it was clear he was seething internally.
Julie put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, no. I suppose it had sentimental value, too?” What a total screwup, she thought.
“It was a gift upon my acceptance of my position here at the hospital.”
“Oh…” Julie’s voice trailed off.
“Never mind the vase,” Iris said behind her. Julie turned.
Sebastiano glanced at Iris. “As a board member, I’m sure you’re well aware of its value.”
“I never cared for it. If it had been left to me, I never would have chosen it. Black and orange may be the colors of Grantham University, but I always found the piece somewhat garish. I’ll make sure we give you something more suitable to replace it—a simple Paul Revere-style silver bowl.”
“You’re too kind,” he said. That didn’t stop him from glaring at Julie. “But that still doesn’t eclipse Dr. Antonelli’s carelessness.”
“Let’s move on for now,” Iris ordered, ignoring the obvious tension in the room. She turned to Julie. “I’m curious as to your comment about the clinic,” she said. “I wasn’t aware there was a problem.”
“With all due respect to Dr. Antonelli, if I may?” He measured his words.
Julie crossed her arms. She tapped her fingers on her elbows. She didn’t like being preempted.
Sebastiano forged ahead. “With all due respect, the clinic is open three days a week and one evening, more than the state mandates. Moreo
ver, the hospital maintains these hours despite the cuts in government spending.” He waited, looked at Iris, then back at Julie.
She wasn’t ready to give up yet. She raised her hand.
“Which way are you aiming this time?” he asked, jutting his chin out.
Julie paused. She knew just where she’d aim. But she didn’t. Instead, she clenched her jaw. “I realize the hospital is trying to do its part for the community—but it’s simply not good enough. Here we live in one of the richest towns in the country, and we still find expectant mothers risking death due to inadequate medical care. Do we really want it written on our tombstones that we exceeded state mandates? Wouldn’t we rather be known as the local hospital that did everything it possibly could?”
Sebastiano lowered his eyes to the blotter of his desk. He lined up his Montblanc pen exactly in the middle, parallel to the horizontal edges. “You know there are proper channels for lodging a complaint about hospital policies.” He lifted his head and focused on Julie. “An unannounced visit to my office while I am discussing business with the head of the board is not one of them.” He didn’t threaten.
He didn’t need to.
Julie wet her lips and realized that some of her fury was starting to seep away. Maybe it was all the hours with no sleep. Maybe it was the thought that she could lose her privileges at the hospital. And then maybe it was staring into Sebastiano Fonterra’s disturbing deep-brown eyes that finally took the wind out of her sails.
She had felt she was right to barge in when she did. Maybe that was the problem. Too much emotion, not enough strategy. When would she ever learn?
Julie held up her hand. “You’re right. I apologize. To you and to Mrs. Phox.”
Iris nodded in acceptance. In fact, she seemed to have an amused look on her face. “No need to apologize, dear.”
Julie swiveled on her clogs to leave but caught herself before she had fully turned away. “I still have to ask, though.” She couldn’t help herself.
He waited silently.
“How can you live with the thought that a baby could have died knowing we could and should have done more?” She peered at him closely.
He remained standing like a man in charge, barricaded on the other side of his desk, but something about him—be it his normally entrenched aura or some indefinable spirit—appeared to contract within.
Until finally, after what Julie felt was one of the most awkward moments of her life, he responded, “I do what I do every morning. I get up and try to do what I think is best for the future of this hospital.”
“And you can be sure that members of the Grantham community recognize that,” Iris said in support.
Oh, hell, who was she kidding? Julie thought. Iris was right. Sebastiano had improved things at the hospital. He appeared to have an almost miraculous green thumb when it came to raising money, and he had spearheaded interim renovations on the chemotherapy infusion clinic besides increasing the number of social workers to help patients navigate the intricacies of insurance coverage for various levels of care. Charging full steam into his office, wanting to do the best for her patients, she’d made a mess of things. “As those of us on staff at the hospital realize what you’ve done, as well,” she said belatedly.
Suddenly she ached, inside and out, and she wasn’t sure what hurt more. She brought her hand to her cheek and rubbed it. She felt a bump. That’s right. That stupid ultrasound machine. Well, she’d have a doozy of a bruise tomorrow. That was for sure. The sooner she got out of this predicament, the better. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” she said, easing her way toward the door.
“Before you go, Julie.” Iris caught her in midflight. “Just the other day, Sarah was showing me the baby pillow you made for little Natalie—my granddaughter,” she said by way of explanation to Sebastiano, with a beaming smile. “And then she gave me the sampler pillow you made for me. It’s beautiful, and it will definitely take pride of place in my library. And I just love the saying, ‘If I had known how much fun grandchildren would be, I would have had them first.’” She mimicked writing the words with queenlike aplomb.
Then she turned abruptly toward Sebastiano. “You do know, of course, that Julie does absolutely magnificent needlepoint, extraordinary stitches.”
He raised his eyebrows. “No, I learn something new every day about Dr. Antonelli.”
“Yes…well…I have many facets, including my innate ability to run half-cocked into a situation. So, if you’ll excuse me again…” She winced. The talking was really starting to take a toll on her composure, not to mention her sore cheek.
Sebastiano frowned. “Actually, you’re not excused. If you ladies would stay here for a moment, there’s something I need to do. I’ll be right back.” He circled the desk and left the room quickly.
Julie looked over at Iris. “Well, that was a little weird,” she said, feeling embarrassed.
Iris looked at Julie, then glanced over her narrow shoulder at the open door before slowly turning back to Julie. She waited a second before commenting, her pearls shining with a yellow, old-monied hue in the morning light coming through the bank of windows. “I believe you’ve taken him out of his comfort zone.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Julie asked.
Iris smiled. “We’ll have to see, won’t we?”
CHAPTER FOUR
SEBASTIANO COOLED HIS heels beside his assistant’s desk while she ran his errand. But he needed to do more than cool his heels. His temper had reached the boiling point, as well. And all because of Julie Antonelli.
He had always found her an annoying presence—constantly emailing him with suggestions, or, rather, demands, on how to run the hospital.
Even more infuriating was the fact that she was undeniably attractive. She had a kind of insouciant sexiness. Too tall, of course, but one couldn’t deny the appeal of her coltish figure and the way her legs seemed to go on for miles. Normally, he wasn’t fond of women with short hair, but somehow her boyish cut worked with her larger-than-life brown eyes, her classically straight Roman nose and her sharply delineated cheekbones. One of which he couldn’t help noticing during the course of their conversation—no, confrontation was more accurate—was rapidly suffering from edema and a contusion.
“Thank you,” he said to his assistant when she came hurrying back. He didn’t bother to offer any explanations. Then he marched back into his office. “Sorry for my brief absence.” He thrust his arm at Julie. “Here. Take this.”
Julie looked down, confused. “A towel? I mean I know my hair is all sweaty and I need a shower….”
“It’s not your hair that concerns me,” he said gruffly. He forced the bundle on her before circling back to the safety of his side of the desk. “That’s an ice pack. Your bruise is swelling quite nicely. Now, please tell me you didn’t infuriate someone else on these premises, thus necessitating another ice pack and a call to our legal counsel?”
Julie unwrapped the towel and saw the plastic Ziploc bag filled with ice cubes. She shook her head. “No, I didn’t irritate anyone else. It was entirely my own clumsiness. But thanks anyway…for this.”
“Don’t thank me, thank my assistant. She was the one who ran to get it. I can just imagine the rumors circulating through the halls already given the noise of the vase crashing.” He looked sternly at Julie.
She grimaced.
Sebastiano should have felt triumphant, only he didn’t. Another source of irritation.
“Yes, one can just imagine,” Iris said with a chuckle.
Julie pushed the towel-wrapped ice pack up against the side of her face, causing her short hair to stick out the side. He had an incredible urge to lean across his desk and gently pat it in place….
Don’t be ridiculous, he chastised himself. He gulped purposefully. “Dr. Antonelli, I can appreciate that in the heat of the moment and after an arduous night you are tired and upset. Still, the hospital has proper protocol for handling complaints.”
“I know, a
nd I am sorry,” Julie said. “And once more, I apologize, Mrs. Phox. I know how much you’ve done for the hospital and the people of this community.”
“Don’t even mention it, my dear. And next time you see your father, please give him my best. I always tell everyone that I would never let anyone else touch my Mercedes.” She looked over at Sebastiano. “You’ve been to Antonelli Auto Mechanics, haven’t you?”
Sebastiano fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I can’t say I have.”
“You must. It’s immaculate. You could eat off the floor.”
He saw Julie suppress a smile.
“And they have very good espresso,” Iris added.
“I’ll remember that the next time I need to take my car to the shop—or need a coffee.”
Julie held out the towel, carefully folding it over to catch where the bag of ice cubes had started to leak. “Here. Thanks.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You need it more than I. It’s the least we can do as a proper hospital.”
“You sure you don’t need my insurance card first?” she asked.
“Don’t press your luck,” he warned.
“Dr. Fonterra, Mrs. Phox.” Julie nodded and left.
“An interesting woman,” Iris commented.
Her words brought his attention back into the room. “Dr. Antonelli certainly is…ah…unique.”
“If you mean she has chutzpah—”
Sebastiano frowned. “Chutzpah?”
“Yes, such a lovely Yiddish word. It just rolls off your tongue. I find Yiddish so useful when dealing with people. I can see that I must give you a Yiddish dictionary.”
Sebastiano had this uneasy feeling they were about to go down the rabbit hole again. “I take it that it means rude?” he asked.
Iris pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Rude, yes, I suppose so. But at the same time passionate.” She paused. “I’m no expert of course.”
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