“How many beds does Harmony House have?”
“Thirty-five.” Which sounded so vastly different from the one hundred and twenty beds that made up The Arbors.
“Exclusively Alzheimer’s?”
“Dementia care.” Which included, but was not limited to, Alzheimer’s care.
Jay didn’t say another word. He didn’t move. He didn’t take his eyes off her, but Susanna knew he wasn’t happy. It was all over him, the sudden stillness, the way he contained his response in such a noticeably physical way.
“Nothing personal, Susanna, but that wasn’t what I was expecting,” he admitted. “Northstar led me to believe they were sending someone with memory-care experience.”
“I’ve been training since Northstar proposed the move and am now certified in all areas of Alzheimer’s care.”
Certification wasn’t the same as hands-on experience.
He didn’t say it aloud. He didn’t have to. Skepticism was in every hard line on his face.
And stupid, stupid woman that she was felt as if she’d disappointed him with her inexperience. “I also bring a long career in health care that makes me uniquely qualified to transition The Arbors from private to corporate while retaining your standard of care.”
That sounded suspiciously like business administration and not patient care. Jay had the patient care experience as well as the graduate degree in business administration and a lifetime of learning the ropes. She knew because she’d researched him. But Northstar hadn’t extended him the same courtesy.
What had Gerald been thinking?
Especially since her lack of Alzheimer’s care wasn’t the only hole in her experience.
Susanna inhaled deeply. She wanted to point out that they’d been working side by side for over a month and he hadn’t had any concerns about her performance until this minute.
But Jay kept staring, clearly reformulating his opinion. Then another thought occurred to him. Susanna could see it as if a lightbulb went on over his head.
God, don’t let him ask. Please don’t let him ask!
His gaze narrowed. “You were the property administrator of Greywacke Lodge, weren’t you?”
CHAPTER SIX
JAY STARED INTO SUSANNA’S face, her eyes so blue they managed to distract him from the hollow feeling in his stomach. Because he knew, before she ever opened her mouth, a mouth that should be put to far better uses than this conversation. Kissing came to mind. Moist lips parted around soft, excited breaths. Definitely better than telling him what he didn’t want to hear.
And that’s what she was going to do. He could see reluctance in the vivid depths of those too-blue eyes. He could feel her hesitation in the pit of his stomach.
He couldn’t say why he felt so in tune with this woman that he sensed what was coming, but when she opened that attractive mouth and said, “I was the CFO,” he wasn’t the least bit surprised. Not at all.
Except maybe by the way her words filtered through him, a matter-of-fact declaration delivered in a hush of a whisper, a silken sound so at odds with her hard admission.
Chief financial officer?
He needed a clone of his late grandmother and Northstar had sent him a replacement for Walter?
No, Jay wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t been able to break free of this place for his entire adult life. Why should he think now would be any different?
There was never quiet in The Arbors. Even on third shift when most folks were sleeping, there was always background noise—the chirping of heart monitors, the huff and hiss of respirators, the blare of call buttons.
There were people sounds, too.
Caregivers whispering greetings or assessments as they moved in and out of rooms during rounds.
Dietary staff, whose first shift started in the middle of everyone else’s third, chatting as they prepped meals.
Mrs. Carlson mumbling to her long-dead husband while she slept, voice carrying through her room’s open door.
Mr. Vincenzo in the north wing, growling whenever he clunked a knee or elbow against the bed rails. They’d ordered an oversize bed and padded the rails to make him comfortable, but he still slept as if he were trying to break out of prison.
Right now all Jay could hear was the silence between him and Susanna, so thick it dominated the hallway.
She finally said, “Please accept my apology. I had no idea Northstar wouldn’t provide my history. I’m surprised.”
That made two of them. He’d figured Northstar had known its business. He wouldn’t say that, either. “They provided your bio. You’ve been with them a long time.”
“Over eighteen years. Started off in health care then moved into senior living.”
“And you’ve been running the financial department.”
She nodded. “I was also a duty manager. All directors worked in shift management, including the property administrator. She felt it was important to stay engaged with our residents and staff, and the only way we could do that was by working with them.”
Jay approved of that much. Administration that worked in an ivory tower, or administrative corridor as it were, certainly couldn’t understand the day-to-day needs of a facility from a working perspective. No one benefited much then.
Okay, so she’d researched and prepared and gotten certified. Bully for her. Jay didn’t feel he should congratulate her for that. Preparation and experience were two different things and he’d insisted on both. The simple fact was: Susanna wasn’t what he’d asked for.
He’d been so blinded by her pretty smile and so grateful to have her here that he hadn’t interrogated as he should have. He’d trusted Northstar to send him what he’d asked for. True, the situation had seemed very promising...or had he only been determined to believe she’d fit right in at The Arbors because he wanted out that badly?
Badly enough to leave folks who counted on him with an inexperienced director? “Northstar told me they’d send the perfect person.”
Raising her hand, she smiled tentatively, testing the past month of companionable working relations. “That would be me.”
“I acknowledge you’ve done excellent work since your arrival, but I was specific about the job description. Experience in Alzheimer’s care was the first item on the list. It was my only nonnegotiable requirement.”
So why had Northstar sent someone he wouldn’t consider leaving in charge?
Jay had no answers. Only questions. And two CFOs, one of whom wasn’t interested in retiring. And a qualified property administrator who was more than ready.
Susanna didn’t say a word, only faced him stoically. He couldn’t read anything behind the expression on her face. Which made the situation that much worse. He’d wiped the smile from her face and made her feel bad, and himself, for that matter. He wasn’t prone to tantrums because he didn’t get what he wanted.
Fortunately for both of them, he had to cut short his reaction when Kimberly reappeared, and said, “I’m back.”
Susanna stepped lightly in front of him and, if he were to guess, he’d say she was even more relieved for the distraction than he was.
“How’s he doing?” he asked Kimberly.
She didn’t glance away from the display as she inputted data. “No change.”
“Do we need to get him to the E.R.?” Might as well get that out of the way.
Kimberly cast a sidelong glance at Susanna, whose expression might have been carved from marble. “Not unl
ess his condition deteriorates. Otherwise, he’s stable. I can continue to monitor him until Dr. Smith arrives.”
Good enough for Jay. She didn’t bother asking Susanna’s opinion. Looked as if he was back on duty. “Do you want to move him to the first floor?”
“Unnecessary. He’s comfortable in his apartment, and Ryan offered to stay until the doctor gets here.” She smiled. “Ryan will enjoying sitting and reading tabloids with no interruptions.”
“And racking up overtime to pay off that new bike.”
Kimberly chuckled. “That, too.”
“Okay, then. I’ll call Dr. Smith’s service and leave a message so he doesn’t make any detours on his way in.”
“Let us know if anything changes,” Susanna said.
Kimberly nodded before turning back to the display.
Then Jay slipped the cell phone from the carrier at his waist and scrolled through his contact list. He retreated into Kimberly’s office. While he was leaving the message with the doctor’s service, Pete returned to get an update. Susanna explained the plan of action in a voice as neutral as her expression.
Pete acknowledged Jay with a wave then took off again, leaving Jay with the woman who’d not only thrown a wrench into his day but his entire life plan.
“So where do we go from here, Jay?” The past month of companionable working relationship might never have been. She was by the book right now with her brisk Yankee voice.
“I won’t make excuses for my company’s decisions, Jay. Not without having all the information. What I can tell you is they offered me this position because they felt I was the best qualified for the job. They could have moved an administrator from another property, someone who had memory-care experience.”
Leaning back against the desk, he folded his arms over his chest and considered her. “You’re better than everyone else?”
Fifteen minutes ago, she would have smiled, but not now. “For The Arbors. Yes, I am. You’ve got a unique set of circumstances here that call for a unique skill set. Transitioning from private to corporate requires a competent but delicate hand. You’re fiscally successful and well-known for your quality of care. You’d like to see The Arbors remain successful and expand. There are lots of factors involved. You know that.”
He couldn’t argue her point. He didn’t need to, not when there were other things to argue. Northstar’s definition of perfect and his were two different things.
“Northstar felt whatever I lacked in direct supervisory experience didn’t outweigh what I brought to the table,” she continued. “I’m fresh off a hundred-and-twenty-hour training program to certify me in memory care. They knew I’d learn the ropes, particularly as you’d be here through the transition period. I’m sorry they didn’t present me in that fashion. I feel as if they’ve undermined my credibility in the process.”
Inclining his head in acknowledgment, he was unsure what bothered him most—she didn’t have experience or that he hadn’t been told. Both. He honestly couldn’t say he was surprised by the corporate mentality, though. Checks and balances. Pros and cons. Six of one, half dozen of another as the saying went.
“I hear you,” he said, “and don’t disagree with any of it. But I asked for an administrator with memory-care experience for a reason.”
“To make sure The Arbors will be cared for?” she asked.
“Yes.” He couldn’t leave without a clear conscience.
Jay squelched that thought. He was done with feeling obligated. He’d lived his entire life obligated to this place, and the time had come to let go.
So how did he politely explain to her that he didn’t feel corporate know-how and her transitioning skill set could make up for years of experience with Alzheimer’s patients?
How did he explain to Susanna that he didn’t want her pretty blue eyes distracting him from doing what he had to do?
* * *
CLUTCHING THE PHONE, Susanna let her eyes flutter shut and reined in her emotions before making the phone call. She needed to steel herself for the conversation ahead because she refused to present as anything but a professional. But emotion rode so close to the surface, waiting to overstep the boundaries of business and demand answers from a man she considered a friend.
She’d given up her job, her home, her life to make this career move. Everything important depended on her performance, from her family’s finances to Northstar’s acquisition. Yet Gerald had sent her into a new work environment, knowing she didn’t meet the basic job description. Northstar had sent her in to do a job then undermined her credibility.
Why would they set her up this way? There was no real chance her inexperience would go unnoticed, particularly as Jay had been involved in every area of the acquisition. The omission of her work experience had been deliberate, of that Susanna had no doubt.
Northstar was a management company, for heaven’s sake. They staffed businesses, not just senior living facilities, but health care operations, industrial properties, hotels...businesses across the board. If they were going to staff a property administrator who didn’t meet the fundamental criteria for the position, they should have told her before she’d arrived on the property. Cleared the way for her to do her job before she sacrificed her life in New York.
So why had Gerald sent her in unprepared to tackle this job with a control freak? How could anyone think Jay wouldn’t notice her inexperience? The only surprise was how long it took him to notice. She supposed that spoke highly of her job performance.
And worst of all was how much she felt as if she’d disappointed him. God, even the memory of today’s exchange made her wince.
Jay’s expression dominated her memory, his surprise, his displeasure, the way he’d finally reined in his reaction. And he had. She knew him well enough to know how much. He’d been angry, but he’d expressed his displeasure during that horribly awkward exchange in a way that was forthright but not hurtful. In a way that wouldn’t corner her into a defense.
Not that she could have defended herself. There would be a learning curve. She’d known it. Her bosses had known it. The only person who hadn’t known was Jay.
Opening her eyes, Susanna leaned back in the caned rocking chair and gazed into the clear night sky, the rising moon casting the silhouette of her new yard in silver.
Her new home. For how long?
Susanna didn’t want to make this call, disliked confronting Gerald as much as she disliked admitting her inexperience had been exposed to Jay and he might call Northstar and insist they send someone he considered qualified. And she was hurt Gerald would position her this way without any warning.... She never would have concealed her inexperience.
Just the thought rubbed Susanna the wrong way. Was that why Gerald hadn’t told her?
Inhaling deeply, a breath filled with the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine, she tried to calm the tension that had her nerves on end.
Then she depressed the speed dial and waited for the call to connect. Unless he had a nighttime engagement, Gerald should be settling in to relax after a long day.
He picked up on the second ring. “Susanna,” he said in his hearty voice. “Good to hear from you. How are things going?”
“We’ve hit a snag, Gerald,” she said simply.
“What kind of snag?”
“Jay asked Northstar to provide a property administrator with a specific level of experience, which I don’t come close to having. I assume there’s a reason you sent me here without sharing my
credentials with Jay. Or preparing me.”
To her astonishment, Gerald chuckled. “You’re such a diplomat. Your credentials are need to know. You work for Northstar. Not Jay Canady.”
Maybe it was the laughter. Or maybe she was just upset enough to throw caution to the wind, but Susanna didn’t mince any words when she said, “I don’t agree. You sent me here to reassure the man, not upset him. But how am I supposed to do that when I don’t have all the information? I can’t reassure anyone when the rug gets pulled out from under me.”
No more laughter. “What happened?”
Susanna gave him a bare-bones overview of the day’s events. To her credit, she kept her voice steady, kept to the facts. She didn’t hint at how mortified she’d been that her work history had been concealed from Jay, how helpless she’d felt because he’d felt as though he’d been lied to by Northstar.
And she was Northstar.
“This is business, Susanna. You know that. Jay’s in a tough position. No question. He’s used to calling the shots at The Arbors and he wants to make sure he covers everything. But his micromanaging isn’t going to work during this transition. That’s why you’re there—to build a bridge between the old administration and the new. You’ll help him understand why things are changing so he can make peace and move on. You’re the best person for the job. We’ve decided that, and you work for us. Don’t second-guess yourself.”
Susanna stared into the night, wrapping her brain around the fact that she was being used to manipulate Jay. She understood Northstar wasn’t going to answer to him. She understood they wanted to flex their corporate muscles in an area that would drive home that subtle point and shift the balance of power to their side.
She understood the corporate mentality. But they should have known they were asking for trouble given Jay’s involvement in hammering out this deal. If they weren’t going to honor Jay’s specific request, they should have at least owned responsibility for the choice.
The Time of Her Life Page 9