by Kilby Blades
“Alright…how were your earlier performance reviews from him?”
“Not glowing, but solidly good.”
“Good,” Michael said approvingly. “You can use that. If he’s never had a bad thing to say about you before and no one else has either, it will make the current performance review look suspicious. Do you have any other enemies?”
She shrugged. “Kind of. There are some people who don’t like the fact that I keep beating them out for grant money.”
“Is Huck friends with any of them?”
“Come to think of it…yes,” Darby admitted with a sinking feeling, thinking of Yelena. She couldn’t believe she had never made the connection before.
“I have a friend who works in the HR field who I can call tomorrow. I’ll see what general advice she can give me. In the meantime, play dumb. Convince Huck that you’re crushed and eager to get back into his good graces. You’ve worked too hard to let him ruin your career. Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”
She was starting to feel better about things. Her reply felt inadequate but she’d say it anyway.
“Thanks.”
That night, he held her as they watched “Before Sunset” on her couch. He knew that movie always made her feel better. After it had finished, he tucked her under her covers as she had fallen asleep, cleaned her kitchen, and took a hot shower before slipping next to her into bed.
When she woke the next morning, he was gone. But when she arrived in her kitchen, she saw that he’d left a note next to her coffee machine.
I’ve got you, it read in his elegant scrawl.
Darby took Michael’s advice and began to build her case against Huck. Michael’s friend in HR had referred her to a worker’s rights attorney, who had given her a specific list of documentation he wanted her to gather. By the time a week had passed, she had downloaded four years’ worth of positive performance reviews, the results of the annual 360-degree review feedback solicited from peers (which were all glowing) and all of her grant proposals, which included letters of recommendation.
After learning that she could quietly work a few HR channels without getting on Huck’s radar, she asked for her patient feedback file, which included both positive and negative feedback from individual patient cases. The few negative patient reviews were earlier in her tenure, when she’d been less experienced, and she was pleased to see that all reviews from the past two years had been positive. She was buoyed by the HR rep’s offhand comment that patients rarely left positive reviews. It would be a feather in her cap to show such a strong track record. It turned out that the hospital had a policy of allowing employees who feared retaliation from another employee to file a special complaint. Darby took the opportunity—the special complaint would be considered if he ever attempted serious action against her.
But more than just covering her ass at her current job, she’d taken Ben’s advice to heart and was actively pursuing other roles. She had updated her resume, was returning calls, and was quietly letting people within her network know that she might be ready for a move. She knew that, at absolute least, she had to hedge against whatever Huck would do. But Ben was right—even if things couldn’t have been better at Northwestern, it was the right time for her to consider something new.
She had mixed feelings about leaving—she’d made Chicago her home, and not just because it was the city where she’d been born. Five years before, she’d had other offers apart from Northwestern. At the time, her mother had still been alive, and dealing with her addiction, so that had made her decision to return to Chicago easy. But in the years since, she’d built herself a cozy little life. She loved the house she’d bought, loved her rituals of seeing movies and going shopping in her free time, loved the small but tight-knit group of friends she’d built, loved what she had with Michael. Starting over in a new city at 20 was one thing, but starting over at 32 was something else entirely. Doctors like her did it all the time, and moving from place to place was something she’d always anticipated. But the idea of leaving Chicago wouldn’t be as easy as she’d once thought.
Michael commiserated with her. When he was in town, he came around more often, or had her over to his place, cooking her dinner, massaging her tired feet. He never complained about seeing less of her, even though she was working longer hours. Working harder was her insurance policy against any possible complains. She treated her patients and conducted her research to the same standard of quality she always had (maybe even a higher one), and stayed late to cross every “t” and dot every “i”—unwilling to allow any move she made to be viewed as a mistake.
Although she was tired, she was trying to hold onto her new routine of getting out more, with Michael by her side. It wasn’t just about letting herself have a little fun and counteracting all the stress—networking would be good for her career.
That was why, on a calm Tuesday night at her place, she and Michael sat before a twin stack of mail. One pile was his, the other hers. They were their collected series of invitations. Each of them was invited to at least a dozen functions a month. For obvious reasons, they declined most, but every once in a while something piqued her interest.
“What looks good?” Michael asked as she leafed through the many opulent cards before her.
She had already started a pile of “nos”, mostly charity functions and weddings. A few industry events were in her “maybe” pile, though she was sure hanging out with a bunch of doctors all night would be pretty dry for Michael. She was just placing an invitation to a film screening in the ‘no’ pile when Michael caught her wrist.
“Seriously?” he asked.
“It’s in Park City,” she said reasonably.
“Which is only a three-hour plane ride away,” he said, as if she had no understanding of U.S. geography. “Why would you not want to go to Sundance?
“Because it’s in Park City,” she repeated, not budging an inch.
“It’s the Sundance Film Festival.”
She shrugged. “I get invited every year. I never go.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I don’t know,” she said a touch defensively. “It seems far.”
He shook his head.
“You need to get out more.”
She took a sip of her wine.
“We should go away together,” he said with determination. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
He had?
“You have?”
“I think we could both use a few days away. Don’t you?”
“Where did you think we would go?”
It wasn’t an answer to his question. She was still turning this over in her mind. It would be amazing to get away. But she’d never even gone anywhere with the men who had been her actual boyfriends. Doing it with Michael would make this more real.
“I don’t know—maybe shopping in Milan or in London. And you know we both love Paris.”
All of that sounded amazing. She didn’t know what to say.
“Before, when I traveled for work, I used to extend my trips over the weekends. I’d turn a layover in London into a stopover and find something new to see.”
“Before what?”
“Before you.”
Oh.
“I’ve always wanted to go to the biggest events around the world. Oktoberfest in Munich. Carnival in Rio. Fashion Week in Paris. The Cannes Film Festival.”
“Have you?”
“I’ve gone to a few of them. They’d have been a lot more fun with you.”
His light words felt heavy. It wasn’t that she disliked the idea. She liked it a little too much. She liked all of it too much—the unprotected sex, the sleepovers, the intimate gestures, and all the other lines the two of them had crossed. Surrendering, she took the invitation to Sundance, which was still held in his hand, and started a new pile—the ‘yes’ pile.
“I’ll book the tickets,” she said.
DARBY WAS NERVOUS AS SHE and Michael made their way through the lobby of the Han
cock building, toward the elevator that would take them to The Signature Room. The Hancock building was the second tallest in Chicago and the hospital had rented out the well-known cocktail lounge on the 95th floor for its annual holiday party. The affair promised heavy hors d’oeuvres, top-shelf liquor and one of the best views of the city.
It also promised the typical sort of holiday party shenanigans Darby preferred to avoid. The awkward introduction of significant others, the small talk that pretended any of them had time for much outside of their insulated hospital-worker lives, and even worse the talk about hospital work itself. It was one thing to grab drinks with her small circle of friends after work once in a while, but quite another to endure a contrived social gathering in which scrubs were traded for cocktail attire.
She usually made an early appearance, and an early exit to an after party with her small crew, but Michael had insisted on coming. She wasn’t surprised that he was curious to meet Huck. If Michael’s boss had been described in the same way, she guessed she would have been curious to meet him, too. But since the performance review, Michael had taken an almost obsessive interest in the cast of characters at Darby’s job. He hadn’t even waited for an invitation—at her first mention of the affair, he’d insisted that he would come.
They exited the elevator with his hand at the small of her back, clearly demonstrating that they were there together but with a gesture so ambiguous that it wouldn’t be clear that they were dating. Their public conduct always held well-practiced mystery, denoting some close friendship but making it entirely unclear as to whether they were a couple. When it was just the two of them, their heat was palpable even if they were just looking at one another from twenty feet away, but in a room full of people, they simply appeared as companions and continued to introduce one another as friends.
She scanned the room for Anne, who was typically her ‘date’ for these kinds of things. She had told Darby in no uncertain terms that she was very much looking forward to meeting Michael. Darby had debated whether to tell Michael that she had revealed their arrangement to her closest girlfriend. Anne’s brazenness would give away her knowledge, Darby had decided. It would be better if Michael didn’t go in blind. She’d come clean to him the night before.
“So you’re the reason for the spring in Darby’s step,” Anne smiled knowingly after Darby had made introductions.
“I don’t know about that…” he said smoothly, shifting an adoring gaze to Darby “…but she’s the reason for the spring in mine.”
Darby’s eyes widened at the ease with which he delivered the line, and the dashing smile he aimed back at Anne a moment later. Swinging her gaze over her friend, she saw that Anne—who wasn’t even attracted to men—looked smitten. She had seen Michael’s effect on strangers before, and shouldn’t have been surprised. His looks were devastating and he had a natural charisma that simply couldn’t be faked. Yet, this was different company. Darby knew he would make an impression on her co-workers, but she saw now that she had underestimated the attention she would receive by bringing Michael to this party.
Going to work on Monday should be interesting, she thought sardonically to herself.
“I hear you’re the best labor and delivery nurse this city has ever known,” Michael continued, launching into a conversation with her friend. Darby only half paid attention as she subtly scanned the room to take stock of the situation. Present tonight would not only be the shift staff, but also hospital administrators and members of the Board, some of whom were presiding members of her grant-writing committee.
If there were one other reason why she showed up at these things, that was it—to get a bit of face time with the people whose job it was to decide whether to fund her work. She didn’t like that every grant-seeking physician used events like these to ingratiate themselves to important players. But, likability mattered, and she knew that she would have to say at least a few hellos. And that those hellos would be especially important this year, given her situation with Huck.
“Darby, daaahling…” she broke out of her reverie when she heard the unmistakable English accent. Rich swept her into a light hug and kissed her cheek, their standard greeting for social gatherings.
“Hey,” she smiled amicably. “Are we having fun yet?”
He knew how she felt about these kinds of affairs—that she came only out of obligation. Under normal circumstances, he and his wife would be members of the after party crew, but tonight was shaping up differently. For the first time in four years, Lindsay hadn’t accompanied Rich. For the first time, Darby had brought a date.
“I’ve kissed exactly five arses so far and if I’m counting right, I only have three more to go,” he admitted in his typical self-deprecating manner. “But, before I do, introduce me to your friend.”
She touched Michael’s arm.
“Michael Blaine, this is my research partner, Rich, known by some as Richard Graham Leslie Stroh the Fourth.”
“You sound like English royalty,” Michael commented good-naturedly. “What number in line are you to the throne?”
“One hundred and sixty-six, unfortunately,” Rich returned. “Though seven of the ones before me are quite old so I expect to be solidly in the one-fifties by Easter.”
Michael laughed. Darby stared in disbelief. From the way Rich said it, she knew he was telling the truth. She had known this man for nearly five years, and never known facts such as this, yet Michael had known him for five seconds and had easily gleaned real information.
“Darby, is this who you’ve been hiding from us?” he asked, looking between she and Michael with more interest than he had ever displayed. “I knew you were seeing someone, but a famous architect? I never would have thought.”
“Michael is a great friend,” she lied easily, as she had so many times before. Rich wasn’t stupid and she knew that he knew that Michael was her booty call. Still, she didn’t want to treat it as public knowledge, so she kept up the act. “I cry on his shoulder when Huck is mean to me and he cries on mine when his designs have structural inefficiencies.”
“I see,” Rich replied, looking at Michael. “Good to know. The sound of hearts breaking was audible when the two of you arrived together. The men of Northwestern Memorial will be glad to know you’re still on the market. A few women, too.” He winked at Anne.
“Keep it a secret,” Michael said conspiratorially. “Truth be told, I’m her decoy. It seems that warding off the unwelcome attention of certain colleagues has become a necessity.”
“Has it?” Rich asked, turning his eyes back to Darby. Michael was going off script and she had no idea how to respond.
“Some guys just don’t know when to give up,” Michael said lightly, placing his hand on Darby’s neck as he looked at Rich.
Darby was saved from having to speak by yet another interruption, this time from Stacey Kohl. He was in his mid-sixties, yet well-preserved with salt and pepper hair and hazel eyes. He was also the President of the hospital’s Board of Directors. She had met him in passing before, but didn’t think he knew anyone in their small group.
“Michael,” he greeted her date jovially, shaking his hand heartily as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in ages.
“Stacey!” Michael greeted back enthusiastically, “It’s been awhile. How’s Sue?”
“Still singing your praises after what you did for her mother near the end,” the older man said more seriously. “And she was very touched that you came to the funeral.”
Michael nodded with appropriate somberness. Darby’s jaw wanted to drop. Michael had never mentioned that he knew the President of the Board of Directors of her hospital, arguably the most important person to have in her corner, especially given the situation with Huck.
“I didn’t know you knew Darby,” Stacey continued. “The work she’s doing around opioid treatment could be groundbreaking.” Double jaw-drop. Darby figured Stacey knew who she was, if for no reason than the fact that she was the senator’s da
ughter, but she was surprised that he was so familiar with her work.
“It is,” Michael agreed smoothly. “And I have more than a passing interest in it. You know medicine’s not my specialty, but it reflects the kind of divergent thinking me and my guys in Silicon Valley talk about a lot. We need to be rethinking old problems in new ways, and I think you’re well-positioned to support it. It’s not just about developing new drug therapies—it’s about getting smarter about the things we think we know. I know some people who may like to support more projects like Darby’s. We should talk more about it, once hers is done. By the way, do you know Dr. Rich Stroh? He’s Darby’s neuro partner on the research.”
“I don’t think I do,” Stacey admitted. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said shaking the other man’s hand.
“Sir,” Rich replied, looking as flummoxed as Darby felt.
“And this is Anne Higgins, one of the best nurses in labor and delivery from what I’ve heard,” Michael continued.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Anne,” Stacey said warmly, shaking her hand.
“That’s another area I hear could use some funding,” Michael said. “I know a family foundation focused on women’s health. We’ll talk,” he seemed to promise.
When Stacey’s attentions were engaged with Anne as he politely inquired about the needs in the maternity ward, Darby gave Michael a ‘what the fuck?’ look. He just winked, and turned his attention back to the conversation. She knew exactly what he was doing—dangling the promise of funding in front of Stacey so that if, and when, the time came to bargain for Darby’s chances, she’d have a chip. It was a pro move on Michael’s part—it didn’t tie her directly to the string-pulling, especially since it wasn’t clear as to whether she and Michael were dating.
“Enjoying the party?” A sixth voice joined the conversation, one she recognized immediately. It was Huck. He held a glass full of something golden, and he edged his way easily into their little circle, settling between Anne and Stacey. He probably wanted to monopolize Stacey’s attention—the best way was to cut off his partner in conversation. Anne, a nobody nurse, was nothing more than an obstacle to Huck.