Chapter 18
CLAY
As I enter my office, I do a triple take and almost trip over my own feet. Tim Jones is lounging in my chair like he owns the place.
“How did you even get in here?” I sputter. “And more importantly, what on earth are you doing in my chair?”
I snatch the clipboard from his hands and find his name listed as my next patient. I rub the back of my neck. “You don”t have any kids. How did you end up on my appointment list?”
With a smug look on his face, Tim taps his temple. “It”s not what you know, it”s who you know.”
The light bulb flashes in my mind. Of course, it must be Nurse Anna. Tim’s partner, Kayla, knows Anna and they were chatting at the picnic like long lost friends. Why is Anna in on this?
I sigh and mutter, ”Can I have my chair back?”
Tim nonchalantly slides out of my seat like a slippery eel and into the swivel chair opposite my desk.
I shuffle papers, stalling as I gather my thoughts. He”s not a patient, so why is he here, arms crossed and staring daggers?
I clear my throat. ”What, uh, what can I do for you today?”
He scoffs. “Oh, you know exactly why I”m here, Clay.” My first name sounds like a curse word on his lips. ”I want to talk about Kat.”
A rock forms in my belly, grounding me to earth.
Tim leans forward and palms his fists on top of my desk. ”How could you use my cousin as a means to impress the hospital board, all for a title? Head of Pediatric Surgery.” He spits out the phrase as if the job is equal to that of a trashman and not one that saves lives.
I swallow hard. I knew if the fake relationship got out, there would be consequences. But I justified it—I deserve that promotion. I worked hard to be the best pediatric surgeon on staff.
“Now just wait a minute,” my voice wavers. “Kat agreed to the whole thing. It was mutually beneficial . . .” I trail off at the fiery anger simmering in Tim”s eyes.
“Cut the crap, Clay. You manipulated her to serve your ego-driven interests. She”s vulnerable. And using people is never okay.”
His words hit me like a slap in the face. When he puts it like that . . . did I guilt Kat into helping me in return for protecting her from Danny? Have I become so ambitious that I would take advantage of others to rise to the top?
Tim shakes his head in disgust. “You lied to the hiring committee and took advantage of my cousin, all for the sake of status and more income. How could you stoop so low? That promotion should go to someone with integrity.”
Hot shame rises up my neck. What have I done? He”s right—deceiving the board and using Kat was not only stupid but also unethical. I”m a good surgeon, but I let my pride blind me.
“Tim, . . . I totally agree,” I stammer. “I acted like a jerk, and Kat deserves better.”
Tim sighs, unfolding his arms. “I appreciate you recognizing your error. Now end things with Kat cleanly. No more lies or stringing her along.” He fixes me with a hard look. “And if you have any conscience at all, you’ll come clean to the board about what you did.”
I nod slowly. The shame burns through me, but I know what I need to do. “You’re right. I’ll fix this.” Meeting Tim’s eyes, I say with full sincerity, “Thank you.”
A flicker of surprise passes over Tim”s expression before it hardens again. “Don”t thank me. Just do the right thing.” He stands abruptly. “I”ll be checking in with Kat, and if I find out you gave her any more trouble . . .” He leaves the threat hanging as he turns to go.
With my stomach in knots, I whisper to the empty room, “I’m sorry. . .” To Kat, to Tim, and most of all, to myself—for losing my way. But that’s enough. It”s time I reclaim my senses, and my integrity, no matter the cost. Even if I miss out on what I’ve been working toward for so long.
The hospital phone beside my computer rings, breaking me from my remorse. Clearly, my common sense took a vacation when I blurted to Tony that Kat was my fake fiancée.
I pick up the phone and automatically reply, “Clayton Ashley’s office.”
“Clay. We’ve come to a decision.” Tony’s voice remains neutral. “Can you make some time to come and see me?”
I’m free now. Tim’s appointment or false appointment didn’t take the full thirty minutes. He whirled in and out like a tornado. A man of few words and the ones he chose cut deep to the heart.
“I have twenty minutes now. Shall I swing by your office?”
“See you soon.” He hangs up, leaving me guessing.
Have I got the position or not?
The trek to Tony”s office seems like an endless marathon, my thoughts running wild with potential outcomes. Will he offer me a promotion? Or another cup of his stale coffee from his camping percolator kit? He never stops bragging about how much of a bargain it was.
The anticipation is killing me as I try to catch my breath from speed-walking a million corridors. Who designs these buildings anyway? Don’t they realize hospitals are generally for sick people? So make it harder for them, yeah, flawless logic.
Finally reaching Tony’s office, I knock lightly on the door before entering. Tony, Ms. Pembroke, and Dr. Arnold look up simultaneously.
“Clay, that was quick. Did you catch a whiff of what was brewin” and sprint down here?” Tony asks, motioning for me to take a seat. “Want a coffee?”
I touch my throat, anxiety pressing air from my lungs. “Tony, I need to explain something—” I nod a greeting to the board members. “—to you all.”
Their response is a consensus of wrinkled noses as if I’ve emptied my bowels of toxic gas.
As I unravel the web of lies that has brought me to this moment, Tony’s expression shifts from curiosity to concern. Disappointment creeps into Dr. Arnold’s eyes as he listens intently to my confession.
When I finish speaking, there is a heavy silence in the room. Tony leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he contemplates my words.
“Clay,” he finally says, his voice grave. “What you’ve done is unacceptable. The board values honesty and integrity above all else. You should know that.”
I nod solemnly, fully aware of the consequences of my actions. “I’m prepared to face whatever repercussions come my way.” I massage the tightness from my jaw.
Tony studies me for a long moment before sighing heavily. “I appreciate your honesty in coming forward. It takes courage to admit when we’ve made mistakes.”
He leans forward, fixing me with a stern gaze. “But ...”
I swallow hard, bracing myself for what comes next.
“We’re not offering you the position because of your relationship status. That would be discriminatory.”
My jaw drops. Did he just say they are offering me the Head of Pediatrics?
“You’ve earned the position on your own merits. There’s no other surgeon that has your level of skill in your department. You have an unblemished procedural record. Zero mortality rate, no post-surgery complications reported, and no malpractice claims.”
I palm my cheek and drag it across my mouth. “Thank you,” I mumble.
He gestures to me. “Thank yourself. You’re a hero in many children’s eyes. To hundreds of families. Plus, you’ve sacrificed a lot of your personal life. How could we deny you this position for not having a partner when you’ve put others before yourself? Clay, you of all professionals need to be recognized and rewarded for your years of focused dedication.”
I tunnel my fingers through my hair, probably making me look like a crazy scientist. I’m feeling a little crazy about achieving my dream even though I made a terrible mistake.
I need to make it up to Kat or all this doesn’t matter if she doesn’t forgive me and give me a chance to earn her trust. I want to date her for real this time.
I place my hands together and bow in a namaste mudra, totally brain-fogged on who I am and what just happened. “Thank you. Thank you.” I lift my chin. “Can I be dismissed?” I say like I’m a school kid and I’m busting for the bathroom. “I need to go to my next appointment. Then I need to see Kat and tell her the good news. After I apologize.”
Ms. Pembroke smiles generously. “I think that is wise, young man. By the way, I could tell that you have real feelings for her. The way you looked at Kat wasn’t fake. You had admiration and couldn’t take your eyes off her. Smitten. That’s the word I was looking for.” She places a hand on the side of her chin. “Adorable.”
“Uh. Yep. That’s me. Adorable.” I laugh. With my chest eased of heaviness, I lift a hand and wave. “Wish me the best, then.” And with that, I leave with a renewed sense of hope. A clean slate.