by Jan Moran
“So it’s going to go to court?”
“Possibly. It feels ridiculous to not fight it when the charges are completely blown out of proportion, and you know they’re just trying to milk an honest mistake on Herbert’s part for everything they can get.”
“He should have brought in more help.”
“There’s no guarantee it wouldn’t have happened even if Herbert had brought in an army of people to help. It was an administrative slip-up. A nurse showed the patient into a consultation room. A slip-up happened with the paperwork, and Herbert didn’t realize the patient was waiting.” Shannon scowled. “If it hadn’t been a concussion, if the patient hadn’t fallen asleep, he might have just walked out and complained about the wait, in which case, he would have been attended to immediately. And why didn’t he just go straight to the ER if the fall was as bad as he described?” She shook her head. “The point is that there are lots of holes a lawyer can poke into his story.”
“But the jury will take his side. They almost always do because they see themselves in the same position—alone in a consultation room, forgotten by the doctor and the nurses.”
“Doesn’t the happy ending matter?” Shannon demanded. “The nurses eventually found him unconscious and brought him to the ER.”
“Hours later. He could have died.” Andrea interlaced her trembling fingers. “We’re lucky he didn’t, or this lawsuit could be even worse.”
“I know.” Shannon sighed. “I’m trying to be sympathetic, but it’s really hard. Several people, including the patient, made bad decisions, but the ones paying for it aren’t the ones who screwed up. If I lose the clinic, the nurses here who will lose their jobs are not the ones who messed up that day.”
“I know.” The older woman sighed. “It’s all so crazy. And Brandon…did he really choose not to accept the case?”
Shannon nodded. “The case is now headed up by Lewis himself, of Lewis and Hammerstein.” She tapped her fingers on the desk. “I think Brandon might have been easier on us—even if he was trying to prove that he was up to making partner.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He’s…” She smiled, surprised by the warmth she felt in her chest—a good kind of warmth that might have been happiness. “He’s a decent guy. Innately decent. I wish I’d realized that earlier.”
“You did, or you wouldn’t have gone out with him. I remember you saying, after Jerry, that you weren’t going to waste your time on anyone without long-term potential. You must have seen something in Brandon worth having over the long term.”
She frowned. “I did say that, didn’t I?” She shook her head. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing’s going to come of it.”
“Why not?”
“We’re on opposite sides.”
“But you said he dropped the case.”
“He dropped the case, but someone else in his firm is on it. We can’t both win. If I win, he won’t make partner. If his firm wins, I lose my clinic and every penny I’ve invested in it. Either way, one of us is screwed.” An ironic smirk curled at the edges of Shannon’s lips. “I would rather it not be me, but I don’t want it to be him, either. He wants to make partner, and he would have last year, if his ex-fiancée didn’t screw things up for him.” Pressure knotted in the middle of her chest. “It’s insane that life has to be an ‘either or’ situation like this.”
“Yes, it is. But let’s just imagine, for a moment, that we’re at the end of the situation. Would you rather be with him at the end of it?”
“Who won the case?”
Andrea studied her for a moment. “Does it matter?” she asked finally.
Shouldn’t it? One of us won’t get what we worked our lives to achieve.
But even if I lost my clinic, if I had him, maybe I could survive it. And if he didn’t make partner, if he had me, would I be enough to make up the disappointment in his career?
She did not know the answer. She wasn’t even sure she had the courage to ask the question aloud. Shannon pushed to her feet and reached for her handbag. “Guess I’m out of here. I’ll see you next week. You have a good weekend.”
“You too.” Andrea smiled.
Shannon stepped into her car and started on the drive back to her townhouse. She stopped at a red light and her idle gaze flicked to the stores along the side of the road. Brandon? Was that him, seated at the Starbucks, with a blond-haired woman? What was he doing back in Westchester, and why hadn’t he called her?
Just keep moving, her head coached her heart.
Oh, to hell with it, her heart retorted.
She pulled into a nearby parking slot and cut the engine. A quick glance into the rearview mirror assured her that her makeup, if not perfectly fresh, was not a disaster. She stepped out of the car and walked toward Starbucks. No, no, bad idea, her mind screamed at her.
Too late. Brandon looked up, his eyes widening.
Before she could spin into a hasty turn, he shot to his feet. “Shannon.”
The blond woman across from Brandon turned to look at her. “Stunning” would not have adequately described her. Her almond-shaped eyes gave her an exotic, feline look and the slash of her cheekbones were so sharp, they might have cut paper. Marguerite Ferrara rose and extended a hand to Shannon. Her smile was both dazzling and warm. “Hi, I’m Maggie, Brandon’s sister. He told me about your week in Italy. I’m glad to meet you.”
“I…” Shannon slanted a glance at Brandon. “Likewise. I didn’t realize you’d be in town.”
Maggie grinned. “Drew and I make trips into New York fairly often for work, but Brandon insisted we come up here for the weekend. Something about a barbecue at the old house. I think he hoped to run into you.” She glanced at a nonexistent watch on her wrist. “Oh my goodness. Look at the time. Drew must be wondering where I am.” A tiny dimple danced into her cheek. “I’ll see you at the house later.” She strolled away from the table, turning the heads of men and women before vanishing around the corner.
Brandon chuckled softly. “I’m sorry. She’s not subtle at all.”
“No, but then again, apparently neither are you?”
“I hadn’t planned on this meeting at Starbucks, but I did ask Maggie and Drew to come up to Westchester for the weekend, and I had planned to go by your home shortly to invite you to a barbecue this evening.”
“You didn’t call all week.”
“I figured you’d be busy.”
“I assumed you weren’t interested.”
“I’m interested, Shannon. But I’m also aware that you’ve got lots of issues to deal with right now. I’d rather wait for a good time than be dismissed because you’re busy.”
“I’m not sure the timing’s any better.”
“Even lawyers take the weekend off.” He smiled disarmingly. “Sometimes.”
She expelled her breath in a sigh. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“We had lots to talk about while we were in Italy that had nothing to do with the clinic, and I’d like you to meet Maggie and Drew.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re family, and I’d like my family to meet my friends, especially friends who I hope will be willing to be more.”
Shannon’s smile quavered, and she pressed her hand against the ache in her chest. “You’re not fighting fair.”
“I could say that I’m a lawyer, and you should have expected it from me, but that would be too obvious. Please, it’s just dinner.”
“It’s never ‘just anything’ with you, Brandon. You’re always able to make it something more. The week in Italy became more than just seven days of Tuscany’s most beautiful places. You made me want something I didn’t even know was missing.”
“What was that?” he asked softly.
“Comfort. Layered beneath the physical attraction and the excitement of discovering someone new was the comfort of knowing I was with a good man. A man I could trust.”
His eyebrows arched. “Really?”
“I know that’s not what I said when you came by to see me two weeks ago, but I’ve had time to think things over. I’m sorry about the things I said, but I still don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“What isn’t? Barbecue this evening, or getting married and having three and a half kids?” He roared with laughter at the horror that must have splattered over her face.
“Don’t do that.” She thumped her heart. “My nerves can’t take it.”
“Look, I know better than to rush this, but I also know that it’s possible to wait for the perfect time that never comes.”
“It’s annoying how wise you are.”
He spread his hands, his smile smug. “J.D.”
“M.D.,” she retorted with a grin, but it faded into wistfulness moments later. “How are we going to do this, Brandon? We’re still on opposite sides. We can’t change that.”
“We’re on opposite sides on just one element of our lives.”
“One? It’s the most important, the most defining thing. It’s our careers. It’s what we do.”
“Who we are is the most important, most defining thing.” Brandon seized her hand in his. His warmth tingled through her. “I’m not downplaying how important your clinic is, or my partnership is. I’m just saying that other things matter to, and I’d like us to have a chance to see if we can be one of those things.”
“You talk a good game.”
“Not only am I a good game; I am a great bet.”
Shannon inhaled. Her shuddering breath made her voice wobble. “Have you ever not been able to talk anyone into anything?”
“More times than you know. Several times last year, in fact.”
Cynthia, of course. Shannon bit down on her lip and turned her face away.
Brandon continued. “Can we take this a step at a time, starting with dinner tonight with Maggie and Drew? You’ll love them.”
Shannon chuckled. “Your sister made quite an impression.”
“It’s her job, and she’s damnably good at it.”
“What’s her husband like?”
“Drew? He’s steady; he’s her rock. They’re natural partners.” Brandon’s gaze was probing, as if he wanted to say something more, but chose not to. “Shall we?” He gestured to his car, parked a few spaces down from Starbucks.
Shannon sucked in her breath and let her heart speak instead of her head. “My car’s around the corner. What’s your address?” She entered it into the mapping application on her smartphone. “All right, Brandon. We’ll start over with dinner tonight.”
“Great!” He leaned in and brushed a quick kiss on her cheek. “Drew and Maggie should be at the house. Go on ahead. I’m going to pick up the wine.”
“Of course.” Shannon rolled her eyes and laughed. She returned to her car, and without any trouble, made her way to a large single-story home in one of Westchester’s more expensive neighborhoods. She pulled into the driveway and for a moment, sat in her car, staring at Brandon’s family home. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. How did he talk me into this?
It’s too crazy. His firm is suing me, suing my clinic. I could lose everything…
Her hand went to the key to turn on the engine and back out of the driveway, but the front door opened and Maggie scrambled out. “Hey!”
Before Shannon could retreat, Maggie pulled the car door open. “Brandon called and said to look out for you. Come on in. Drew has the grill going, but Brandon warned him not to do anything with the food.”
“Will you be cooking instead?”
“Who, me?” Maggie looked startled. “Brandon doesn’t even trust me to wash the salad. He says I don’t dry it correctly. I mean who the heck actually dries salad leaves?”
Shannon laughed as she followed Maggie into the house. “Brandon said he was going to pick up the wine.”
“Yes, another thing he doesn’t trust Drew or me to do correctly.” Maggie peeked out through the glass patio doors to a man standing by a grill. “Well, now no one’s listening, tell me, are you in love with Brandon?”
Shannon blinked. “I…just met him.”
Maggie waved the objection away. “I was thirteen when I met Drew. I fell in love with him immediately, although he wouldn’t let me jump his bones until I was much older.”
“Okay…” Shannon dragged the word out. Maggie was apparently as stunningly, shockingly frank as her older brother.
“Brandon has never asked me to meet any of his girlfriends before. You’re the first, and it’s going to be seriously weird if you’re not even his girlfriend or in love with him.”
“You’ve never met his girlfriends? Not even Cynthia?”
“I eventually stumbled into most of them by accident, but you’re the first he insisted I meet. And as for Cynthia…” Maggie rolled her eyes. “I think Brandon was actively trying to keep her away from me. He probably knew I wouldn’t have anything nice to say about her.”
Shannon sank down onto the leather couch in the living room. “Did Brandon tell you about the clinic?”
“Yes, he did.” The vivacious sparkle in Maggie’s eyes faded. “It’s a bummer. I’m sorry.”
“If not for the clinic…” Shannon shrugged. “It would be simpler.”
“Oh, no.” Maggie waved her hands. “Simple is boring. Simple is nothing to write home about.”
“Wasn’t it simple for you? You’ve apparently been in love with one man your entire life.”
“Oh, I was in love with the most exasperating man who decided that he was too old and not perfect enough for me, and to top it all off, he didn’t bother to ask me what I thought about it. Drew took a great deal of convincing.” Maggie glanced out the patio doors. The smile on her face was radiant, the smile of a woman contented and secure in love. “But I seduced him, and we’re all good now.” Her fingers twitched over her flat stomach in a gesture that Shannon has seen all too often on the pregnant women who came into the ER or the clinic.
Shannon arched an eyebrow and glanced at Maggie’s stomach.
Maggie’s grin was impish, and the sparkle danced back into her eyes. “We haven’t yet told Brandon that he’s going to be an uncle.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Impossibly, Maggie’s grin widened. “I’m super stoked. I’m going to be a kickass mom.”
“Life will never be boring,” Shannon agreed. She glanced up at motion near the patio door. Despite Maggie’s quips about her husband’s advanced age, Drew Jackson did not seem any older than Brandon. Shannon stifled an internal sigh. We’re all old. Maggie’s the baby of the family, obviously.
“Drew, this is Shannon Larson. Shannon, my husband, Drew Jackson. He and Brandon were classmates in high school.”
Next to his supermodel wife, Drew looked decidedly ordinary until he smiled. When he did, he was almost good-looking. More importantly, his good humor and steady temper radiated from the warmth of his smile. “I remember you. You were the doctor at the ER that night when Maggie’s father was admitted for his heart attack.”
“I’m surprised you remember,” Shannon said. “It was a rough night for all of you.”
“And unfortunately, a usual one for you, I’m sure. I’m amazed at how you doctors cope with day after day of this. Is it any different at your clinic?”
“A lot less crazy. The ER absorbs the truly critical cases, and I pick up the overflow.”
The front door opened and Brandon walked in. Their eyes met across the room; she did not imagine the faint, relieved smile on his lips. He had not been certain she would be there.
“Dinner’s ready!” Maggie chirped brightly.
Shannon giggled at the horror that flared into Brandon’s eyes.
His sister laughed. “You’re so easy. Don’t worry; we didn’t touch anything, but the grill’s good to go.”
Shannon pushed to her feet. “I’ll give you a hand.”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “You trust her to help you, but you don’t trust me?�
�� Her offended sniff bordered on a laugh.
Brandon snorted. “She listens. You don’t.”
Maggie shrugged, her expression patently unapologetic, and extended her arms to Drew who apparently had no objection cuddling next to her on the couch.
Shannon followed Brandon into the kitchen where he set down the three bottles of wine and opened the refrigerator to take out the seasoned filet mignons. “They’re great together. How long have they been married?”
“About six months. She twisted his arm; did she tell you that?”
“Yes, but I’m not getting the feeling he’s upset about it.”
“She planned the wedding and sent out the invitation cards before telling him that he was the groom.”
Shannon’s jaw dropped. “She what?”
“He’s always been there for her, and she figured if love wouldn’t get him to the altar, that his determination to save her from public humiliation would.”
She chuckled. “Guess it worked.”
“Not my recommended method, but Maggie’s never been too conventional. Here, can you hold this?” He handed her a large bowl of cut zucchini and squash and a packet of corn on the cob. “Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes,” he shouted over Shannon’s head to Maggie and Drew, before turning to grin at Shannon. “Come on, you’re my assistant chef today.”
“I’ll try not to screw up.”
“If your hands can do surgery, I’m sure you can handle the tongs well enough to keep the vegetables from burning.”
“Oh, what an astounding vote of confidence.”
“I try.” Brandon grinned. “And Shannon…”
She looked up at him, expecting his trademarked wicked grin, but the unexpected tenderness in his smile took her breath away. “Just relax. We’re here to have a great time and see if we can recapture a bit of Italy.”
Damn it, she thought. Didn’t he know that he already had?
~*~
Dinner was served out on the patio. Grilled vegetables surrounded the filet mignons, served medium-rare. The mashed potatoes had a dash of salt and rosemary, and Shannon tried not to think too hard about the generous dollops of melted butter she had, following Brandon’s instructions, swirled into the potatoes. Brandon and Drew enjoyed a bottle of Chianti while Shannon sipped from her Riesling. Maggie drank water, insisting that wine made her fat and she had a half pound to lose.