Searching for Beautiful

by Jennifer Probst

  He studied her face. "You look tired."

  A humorless laugh escaped. "I am."

  Her refusal to elaborate made him tighten his lips. "I'm sorry you're having a hard time. Things will blow over and get back to normal soon. I've been thinking about us."

  "So have I."

  "I'm glad." Determination carved out his features. "I'm going to do better. We're going to be better. I figured out how I was expressing myself and intend to change. I also think the wedding was too much pressure. This time, we'll elope. My parents will be disappointed, but this way it'll be more subtle and stamp out some of the negative press. When things settle down, we can throw a tasteful party when we can both enjoy it."

  Nausea clawed at her stomach, and her heart thundered in her ears. Why didn't he get it? She shook her head hard, frantic to make him see they couldn't keep going on like this. "You're not listening. I spent my time thinking about us, and what I want. We're not good together. This is not something we can change. I'm ending it."

  The shock emanating from him was almost palpable. "No. We love each other."

  "Not anymore." She forced herself to hold his gaze. "This type of love is wrong. It's not healthy, and I'm unhappy. We can't do this to each other anymore. You have to let me go."

  He stared at her hard, assessing, then shook his head. "You're mine, Genevieve. Always will be. I picked you when I could have had anyone because I see you in me. Our drive. Our purpose. Our need to be better. You're wrong about love. Love is pushing the limits, not accepting."

  "David--"

  "I will not allow you to push me away anymore because of your fear. You need me."

  Dread slithered in her veins. "I don't want to marry you. It's over."

  "No. It's not."

  He moved so fast she never saw it coming. Grabbing her around the waist, he dragged her against his body and kissed her. Forceful, brutal, a stamp of ownership and not an ounce of care. By the time she tried to fight him off, it was over.

  She panted, clenching her fists. "Don't ever do that again."

  "Don't tell me what I can and can't do." The ugliness was back, turning him into a man she didn't recognize. "You've humiliated both of us enough. Are you willing to throw away your entire career on a whim?"

  "This has nothing to do with my career!"

  "Your mental state has everything to do with your career. Everyone knows about your consistent panic attacks. Your own family backs me up. Do you know I documented your breakdowns with the hospital?"

  She pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. "You know I don't have panic attacks. You're a liar."

  He shrugged. "You've been a wreck since the engagement. Everyone saw it. I told HR you were having some episodes but I believed you were still safe on the floor. Told them I urged you to look at some medication, but that the wedding had been adding to your stress. It's too late to back out of this. We're meant to be together. If I have to, I'll prove it to you."

  "You're insane. You'll never get away with this. You can't force me to have feelings I don't have!"

  David shook his head. "You're still not understanding me. I will do everything in my power to show you we're meant to be together. I've fought for what I wanted in my life without fail. You are no different." He turned from her. "Think, Genevieve. You're under my direction. Your career is in my hands. We can have the life we dreamed of if you would just give me another chance."

  "I will never get back with you." Her body trembled with rage. "I will not let you bully me anymore. I'm getting my stuff today and reporting you."

  "Go ahead. I've already told key people at the hospital about your mental state. I have witnesses to back me up. As for your stuff, I already changed the locks in my apartment. You'll be moving back in with me eventually. This will just give you the proper motivation."

  "Fuck you."

  He frowned and glanced back. "You know I dislike gutter language, Genevieve. You've been hanging out with trash for too long. Wolfe is a problem between us. Get rid of him." He paused. "Or I will."

  He left.

  Her knees shook. And for the first time, she was truly scared.

  What was she going to do?

  Her first instinct was to call Wolfe, but she battled back the urge. He'd been so sweet and supportive, sacrificing his own work schedule to babysit her. They'd been growing closer since they returned and she was tired of him consistently rescuing her. He was prepping for a business trip and didn't need the distraction. No, she'd handle it. David was probably in a temper and would back down in a few days. He'd never follow through with his blackmail threats to HR. Right? They'd shared too many things together for such ugliness.

  No need to blow it out of proportion yet. She'd dig in, focus on her work, and avoid him as much as possible. Another week and things might be completely different.

  Genevieve prayed she was right.

  twelve

  WOLFE PUSHED AWAY from his desk and paced his lush inner sanctum. He'd learned young to follow instincts. Civility and society did a good job trying to cover up the truth of gut instinct, but he'd take the primitive anytime. It had always served him well, told him of danger, a bad deal, or the way to survive.

  Now it was telling him Gen could be in trouble.

  He had to work late tonight and prepare for a three-day conference he couldn't get out of. He'd be locked up nonstop in a train of meetings focused on growing their clientele and sifting through all their investors. The time away with Gen had given him a fresh perspective on Purity, and a few things needed to change. Usually he'd pick a good business deal over a person's character. After the episode with David, Wolfe decided he didn't want any weak links in his chain. Odd, he'd always had a unique ability to be ruthless in the pursuit of profit. It made sense. It was cut-and-dried and clean. But lately, he decided Sawyer's heart and soul were in the hotel empire of Purity, and it ran deeper than money. Both deserved more. Maybe it was time to clean house.

  He grabbed his cell and hit her number. The hell with it. Her first week back at the hospital had been brutal. Fortunately, he'd cleared his schedule and been able to spend plenty of time in the evenings with her. Things should be a bit better this week, if he could get over this strange feeling something was going to happen. Of course, Kate and her crew would watch out for her, but he'd gotten used to being the one she depended on.

  Wolfe wondered why the fact satisfied him. Maybe because he'd never been needed? Gen was the strongest woman he knew, and her faltering only made him respect her more. There weren't too many people in the world who dug deep, tried hard, and didn't make excuses. Everyone lately was full of whiny crap. Poor me with my dead mother or alcoholic father or crappy sibling. Poor me for not getting a job and not having money and getting bullied. Poor me period.

  He had no patience for the climate lately. It was much easier to blame your junk and issues on someone else. Gen owned it and wanted to do the work.

  He got connected to her voice mail. "Hey, it's Wolfe. Call me when you get a minute." He clicked off.

  When was the last time he worried about a female other than family? The only thing he ever worried about was if she orgasmed fast enough so he could get home. He didn't mean to be cold or cruel, it was just how he was built. He had stopped trying to be someone else a long time ago.

  The voice taunted. Then why do you want to be more for her?

  Shut up.

  The voice grew quiet.

  He didn't trust David. This was bigger than wanting Gen back--this was about retribution for trying to leave and humiliating him. He knew how abusers worked, and how easily it could escalate behind closed doors. Better be safe than sorry. Another cliched motto he believed in.

  After this conference, he'd keep a close eye on things. For now, he needed to focus. Gen could take care of herself. They were friends, not lovers. No reason to blur the lines and make things complicated.

  Complicated for who? Her? Or you?

  This time he didn't snap at the inner voic
e. Just got back to work.

  GENEVIEVE WEAVED HER WAY through the chaos of the ER and headed toward the next patient. ER rotation was sometimes a bitch, and today was one of the worst. They were short beds and staff, and since she'd gotten back there'd been no time to pause.

  The whole thing was a nightmare, but she figured she would hunker down like it was the Alamo and battle through.

  Gen pulled the curtain back and read the chart for bed three. Susan Avery. Age forty-two. Symptoms of abdominal pains. No allergies. She smiled and met the gaze of a pretty blonde with big brown eyes and a thin face. "Hi, Susan, my name is Genevieve. Are we having some stomach issues today?"

  Susan looked slightly flushed. "Yes. I really didn't want to come to the ER but the pains aren't going away and I got a bit nervous."

  "Of course. Any other symptoms?"

  "Not really. I took some antacids last night but nothing worked."

  "And when did this start?"

  "Late last night."

  "Okay, let's check a few things out first." She retook Susan's blood pressure, which seemed slightly elevated. "Any past history of high blood pressure?"

  "No."

  She noted the chart, but numbers were sometimes a bit high due to anxiety. "I'm going to do an ultrasound on you, Susan. We want to rule out acute abdomen so we'll set that up. Just relax and I'll have a tech here in a few minutes."

  Susan shifted position. "I don't have any insurance." She lifted her chin as she uttered the statement, as if trying to protect her pride. "Is that a problem?"

  Gen hated the massive inflow of patients who needed certain tests but couldn't afford it. The hospital did its best, but there were too many gaps in the system and no way to stave off the leaks. She shook her head. "Not a problem. Let's take it a step at a time, okay?"

  "Thank you."

  Gen ordered the test, noting the glare the tech gave her as if he hated being the one to help her. She hurried to the next bed, finishing up two more patients, and her phone buzzed insistently in her pocket. She glanced at the screen and saw Wolfe's number. Juggling charts, she listened to his brief voice mail, and couldn't help the smile on her face. She'd kept the confrontation with David to herself, and things seemed to have settled a bit in the past few days. Though she was still treated like a leper, David kept his distance. She quickly sent a text saying she was fine and would be working late.

  "Dr. Mackenzie, it seems you still think you're on vacation rather than in an overcrowded ER. If you have time to chat on your phone, maybe you're not doing your job."

  She stiffened and thrust the phone back in her pocket. Dr. Tyler Ward was head of the ER, a real son of a bitch, and friends with David. "Sorry." Giving any excuses would just make the situation worse. His bushy brows lowered in a disgusted frown, and his gaze swept over her. "We need bed three for incoming. What's the status?"

  "Waiting on the ultrasound report, sir."

  "Get it faster."

  "Yes, sir." She already knew the tech probably buried her request in the back of others, so she hunted him down again. Gen glanced through the report, which came back clean for acute abdomen. Good sign. But something niggled at her that didn't sit right. She went back to talk to Susan.

  "Did you get the results yet?" Susan asked.

  "Yes, the ultrasound came back fine."

  "That's good, then, right? Maybe I should just switch antacids and sleep it off?" The joke fell flat as her hand settled on her stomach, obviously uncomfortable.

  "I want to check a few more things."

  "Sure."

  Gen rechecked the blood pressure. Hmm. Still elevated, and she didn't think it was nerves. She touched the woman's skin, which felt clammy and sweaty. As she pressed over her muscles and examined her, she noticed her ankles were definitely swollen. How many times had a cardiac problem in women been misdiagnosed as indigestion?

  "Anything big going on at home?" Gen asked casually, listening to her heartbeat again.

  "Just the normal stress. I'm planning a bridal shower for my daughter and it's been taking a lot of time. And my promotion at work is good news, but I've been working late a lot."

  "Congratulations on both. I'd like to run one more test to rule out any other possibilities before sending you home. Excuse me for a moment."

  Gen grabbed the chart. With no insurance and the ultrasound coming back negative, she'd need approval to run the cardiac enzymes test. She fell in step with Dr. Ward, who was barking at a nurse for existing on the same planet.

  "I need bed three."

  "I know. Dr. Ward, I want to run one final test on her for cardiac enzymes."

  "Why?"

  "She's having abdomen issues and the ultrasound came back clean."

  "Then why the hell would you run another test? Send her home."

  "I think it's her heart."

  "Oh, for God's sake, give me the chart." He stopped, glancing through. "She has no insurance. Send her home."

  Stubbornness hit her. "I'm asking you to look at her."

  The gleam of hatred that sprung from his eyes made her take a step back. "Seeing things that aren't there, Doctor? We don't have time for babysitting in the ER. You better not be wasting my time."

  He followed her, pulling back the curtain and turning into Dr. Charm. "Hello, Susan, I'm Dr. Ward. Your ultrasound came back fine. Did you eat anything strange last night that could have contributed to your stomach problems?"

  "Chinese."

  "Hmm, lots of salt intake." He shot Gen a glare and knew he'd just ruled out her swollen ankles. "How about stress? Anything going on that's unusual?"

  Susan laughed. "I was just telling Genevieve my daughter's getting married and we were on the phone for an hour last night, arguing over the guest list. My goodness, by the time the wedding comes I don't know how I'll survive."

  "Weddings are wonderful but stressful events. Did you take antacids?"

  "Yes, just Tums though."

  "Hmm. Well, the good news is you're fine. We'll set you up with Prilosec and make sure you eat bland for a while. No Chinese."

  "Thanks, Doctor."

  "Welcome."

  Gen followed him out. "Dr. Ward, I think--"

  He whipped around and jabbed a finger at her. "I don't care what you think. Do your damn job and stop wasting hospital resources on ridiculous tests for patients with no insurance. Another incident like that and I'll throw you out of my ER. Understood?"

  He marched off. Frustration shot through her. Dammit, in a way she didn't blame him. In another way, her gut was screaming that there was something bigger going on, and if she sent Susan away she'd regret it.

  In medical school, there was so much information to absorb her brain was constantly on overload. But she'd always felt she had good instincts. If she listened and looked beyond the surface facts, letting the individual and the body guide her, she discovered things that routine exams or logic didn't. She used to pride herself on such an ability until David. Over the past two years, he had showed her to trust the evidence only. The tests were God; the facts were survival. Gut instincts in a surgeon only led to chaos, and death.

  So she'd changed. Smothered the voices and primitive instincts that she used to respect.

  Today she made a different choice.

  She swallowed hard and went back to her patient. "Susan, if you don't mind, there's just one test I'd like to run before we release you. I think it's important."

  "Oh, okay. It's probably more restful here than at home anyway."

  "Thanks. I'll have a nurse come by shortly."

  Her hands barely shook as she ordered the cardiac enzymes test from the lab. "I need a signature on this one," Ted said gruffly.

  She didn't miss a beat. "David--er, Dr. Riscetti approved." Ted let out an annoyed huff and punched out the number. He spoke briefly, then looked up. "He wants to know if you asked Dr. Ward."

  The lie fell easily from her lips. "Of course, but he's busy right now." Ted repeated her words, nodded, and clicked o
ff. "We'll run it."

  "Thanks. Can you put a rush on it? We need the space."

  Her heart pounded, but for the first time in a long while, she felt like she'd done the right thing. Gen ran back to her other patients, checking the time and hoping she'd get the results back before things blew up. But maybe she'd get lucky. Maybe Ward was so crazed he'd miss the extra test she ordered and things would work out. Maybe--

  "Why the hell is bed three still not empty?"

  She ducked her head and pretended to be busy doing something vitally important so she couldn't respond. "She's almost ready, sir."

  "She was ready twenty minutes ago. What's going on?"

  Sweat dampened her brow. Crap, this was bad. "Umm, I'm just running one more test, which should be done shortly."

  He blocked her path. Fury rumbled from him. "What test?"

  "The cardiac enzymes, sir."

  His voice dropped. "I told you to release her. Who signed off on the test?"

  She paused and wished she could lie. "Dr. Riscetti."

  Ward gritted his teeth. "I don't care if you're screwing him on your personal time, but don't think you can run my show here." He grabbed his phone and pounded out numbers. "David, why the hell did you give approval on the tro-ponins when I specifically denied it?"

  Gen closed her eyes. It was over.

  "I see. Yes. You better get down here now."

  Ward narrowed his gaze. "Go wait in the conference area for your boss. And get out of my ER."

  She didn't respond. Why did she suddenly feel like she was living out an episode of Grey's Anatomy? Except on the show the residents got to do crazy-ass things and never got kicked out or in real trouble. She knew she'd stepped over the line, but she'd do it again no matter what the results. Did that make her a bad doctor? Or a good one?

  David walked through. His burnished hair was mussed, and his eyes looked tired. She'd heard he was doing double shifts, trying to drown his sorrows in work, while the bitch that she was looked healthier than she'd been in a while. No wonder everyone hated her. In only one week, she'd eaten, slept better, and laughed more than she had in the past year.

  "What are you trying to prove, Genevieve?"