Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cash
“What’s this I hear about you skipping out on a Hahn case on Saturday night?” Jason tosses out the question before I’ve had a chance to take a seat. He’d asked me to meet him at the Bean and Leaf this morning, so I rushed over from Mercy General as soon as I could.
“Yeah.” I grimace, dropping into a chair. He’s got a tall coffee and a bran muffin in front of him, but I bypassed the counter and headed straight to his table. “That did happen.”
“I’m aware it happened, Cash.” He levels me with a stare below his receding hairline. “What I want to know is why.”
I glance around the bustling shop, where no one else knows or cares what’s happening at our table. I thought I’d prepared my gut for his potential disappointment. But as it turns out, trying to be the best at everything you do for most of your life is a hard habit to break. And not going in for that burst fracture wasn’t me at my best.
Or maybe it was.
“Here’s the thing.” I brace myself to present the argument. “When Dr. Hahn texted me, I was a half hour away—in the middle of something important—and the patient was already on the table. So I made a split-second call to prioritize the surgical outcome over winning his business.”
“That part I get.” Jason’s forehead creases. Another wrinkle in the world that’s my fault. “But then you took things a step farther and actually told Hahn to call Alex? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking Alex would get to the OR faster than I could, and I was sure he’d have sterilized sets at the hospital because that’s how I trained him.” I grit my teeth. “I also knew he and Dr. Hahn have worked together before, so the case would probably go smooth without me. Even with a Vortex system.”
“That’s noble of you, Cash.” He rips open three packets of sugar and pours them into his coffee. “And I appreciate you looking out for patients. But if you need more support—like maybe another rep to share the territory?—”
“Saturday’s conflict was a one-time-only event,” I interrupt. And I can absolutely make sure that’s true. “Honestly, I think the situation could still work in our favor.”
“Oh yeah?” He swishes a stirrer around his coffee mug. “How do you figure?”
“I took a risk showing Dr. Hahn I’m not some mercenary who’s fixated on the bottom line. Dollars are important, yes. But I got to prove to him that a man’s spine comes before what I could make on the sale. I’m hoping that scored me some points. And once we’re back in the OR together, I can prove everything else: That Powell’s products are superior, that I know my stuff, and I’m as loyal as they come.”
“And you think Hahn will give you a second chance?”
“His PA already called me.”
“Really?” Jason’s eyes widen. “That’s promising.”
“We’re booked for a posterior cervical on Wednesday and a fusion on Friday.”
“Wow. I guess I should’ve trusted you.” He pushes out a chuckle. “I feel like a jerk now, getting all worked up about the numbers for a minute.”
“Not even close.” I offer him a half smile as reassurance. “I learned from the best, top down. You’re one of the reasons I’m where I am today. Not just with Powell, but in life. You care about people. I know that firsthand.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Jason offers me a healthy dose of side-eye. “You don’t have to kiss the ring anymore. You know I’ve got your back, Cash. I just want to be sure you still have mine.”
“Always,” I say.
“The thing is, if you’re going to make it in an LA territory, you might have to be a little more … cutthroat.”
“Thanks for the warning.” I cock a brow. “Is this your way of saying the West Coast reps don’t care about patient outcomes?”
“Do not quote me on that.” He runs a hand over his scalp. “But seriously. Before I stick my neck out, I need to know you’re up for the challenge. I can’t recommend you to someone like—let’s say Brad Mossler—and have you turning down cases to hang at the beach and slobber all over the first blue-eyed blonde who bats her eyelashes at you.”
“Not gonna happen,” I insist. And I couldn’t mean the words more. The only woman I’ve cared about in years wants to buy a tea shop and settle in Serendipity Springs forever. That’s why she committed to this dating app campaign in the first place. So she’s basically off-limits in every way. Contractually. Geographically. Financially.
Which means I’m off-limits emotionally.
Besides. Nori Sinclair is not a blue-eyed blonde. She’s a brunette. With hazel eyes and?—
“You say that now.” Jason’s snort busts into my train of thought. “But every girl who’s walked into this place since you showed up has checked you out. And that kind of attention is hard to ignore, Cash. Especially after so many years off the market.”
I wave his comment away, wishing I had some coffee to stir sugar into just to distract myself from the heat creeping up my throat. “Anyway, Brad Mossler manages the Cedars’ territory, yeah?”
“Smooth subject change, man.” Jason smirks. “But yes, he’s got Cedars. Plus UCLA and Children’s Hospital. There’s a lot of competition out there. Sets are more expensive. Every screw has a higher price tag. So the cases bill out at a bigger total, which means increased commissions. Everyone wants a piece of that action. Of course, the cost of living is off the charts, too. You’ve gotta grind to afford LA.”
“I’m prepared to grind,” I say. “But forget me working for Brad Mossler. If you went after a manager position out there, we could?—”
Jason throws up a hand. “Let me stop you right there.”
“Come on, man. A manager’s only as successful as his reps. If I’m going to dominate any territory, I want you to benefit too.”
“Like I’ve told you before, I’m a Central Mass guy. My family’s here. My friends. I’m perfectly happy where I am.”
“Heh. Who’s got time for family and friends?”
“Seriously, though.” The crease in Jason’s forehead softens. “I don’t need anything more than what I’ve already got.” He grabs another sugar packet to dump into what’s left of his coffee. “Besides. Change is not my friend. Full disclosure—I hate the thought of losing you, but I’m willing to sacrifice my own well-being if that’s what you want.” He presses a palm to his chest and does a little chair bow. “I’m a giver like that.”
I choke out a laugh. “Not to mention humble.”
“I only speak the truth.” His mouth slips into a smirk. “Anyway, I just wanted to be sure your goals are still the same. ”
“They are.”
“I believe you.” He picks at the top of his muffin, breaking off a chunk of bran and raisin. “Three years ago, you were the hungriest rep I’d ever hired. And you had your sights set on LA from the beginning.”
I draw down my brow. “You think that’s changed?”
He shrugs. “Word gets around the OR. Doctors and PAs talk. And let’s just say the staff at Springs Memorial has their ears on alert at all times. Mercy General’s even worse. More than one person’s mentioned that your focus could be shifting. Not in a bad way. Just … that something else might be on your mind these days.”
My chest goes tight. Who would be talking about me? Maybe Dr. Hanson told someone about us running into Nori at Vincenzo’s. Or Sandra could’ve gossiped about me living at the famous magical love building. Either way, something shifts in my chest, and I find myself wanting a lavender latte with a smiley face in the center. Two seconds later, I’m picturing Nori Sinclair in a bridesmaid’s dress.
I shake my head.
This needs to stop.
Nori is not the solution to my problem, no matter how much I might want her to be. If anything, she complicates my situation. I need to be realistic. Our goals don’t match.
“Listen, Jason, I have no idea who’d be interested in my personal life,” I insist, “but I can promise you I’m as determined as ever to make this move.”
Jason takes a beat, scratches his chin. “Well, that’s good to know.” His eyes flash with amusement. “Because I have some news.”
Me
Cullen. Dude. I hope that baby of yours comes out of the womb loving plane rides, because her Uncle Cash is moving to LA. I think you’re gonna need to fly my niece out once a month. Okay? Okay.
Me
Scratch that. We’ll set up a weekly Zoom meeting, because I don’t want to miss even a little bit of that munchkin growing up.
Me
On second thought, let’s do daily FaceTimes. My niece will need to recognize my ugly mug and my dumb voice so when you DO visit, she’s not scared of me.
Me
Final thought: I’m going to send you a voice message to play to Lauren’s belly starting tonight. That’s not too much to ask, right? I’ll pay for her college. Anyway. Call me.