Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
W yatt
I’m laying out ingredients across the kitchen counter when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Probably my mom again. I forwarded her the picture of the twins and she’s already called me three times wanting to discuss knitting patterns and birth plans and child care arrangements. I have a feeling my mom is hoping one of these twins is going to turn out to be a girl. As a mom of four boys, I can’t blame her for being excited about the prospect of a granddaughter. Maybe two.
I pull the phone out of my pocket and glance at the screen.
Not my mom. It’s a hospital number. Not one I recognize which means I doubt it will be one of my colleagues calling me in for an emergency surgery.
I click accept.
“Hello?”
“Dr. Wyatt Stanton?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Dr. Godfried. I am secretary to the hospital Board.”
“Yes, I know who you are,” I say. “Is there a problem?”
“Dr. Stanton. There’s been a complaint.”
I walk around the counter, leaving my row of ingredients, and sit down on one of the kitchen chairs.
Today, we took Harper for her dating scan. We were seen by multiple people at the hospital. Then Harper plastered our news on her social media feeds along with pictures of the twins. This is the point where we’re hauled in front of a disciplinary panel. Should I call a lawyer?
“A complaint about my pack?”
“I’m afraid so.” The secretary pauses.
“Ahhh,” I say. Let me guess: “Was the complainant Cindy Carlyle? You understand we dated this woman at one time. Very briefly.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t let you know their name.”
“And what exactly is the complaint?”
“I think we’d better discuss it face to face. Could you and your packmates come in for a meeting first thing tomorrow?”
“Who will be at this meeting?”
“All the board members.”
I take off my glasses and rub at my eyes.
“Yes, we’ll be there.” With our lawyer.
We decide it’s best we don’t tell Harper about this meeting. She’ll only worry and until we know the outcome, what’s the point.
So I drop her off at the gallery and make my way to the hospital as if everything is normal.
There I meet Owen, Daxton and our lawyer, Joan Deavio.
“Is there anything else I need to know about, that you want to confess to me, before we go through to this meeting?” she asks us, patting down her short dark hair. “Because it’s better I know now and am not blindsided.”
We’ve already told her about the step-sibling thing, the shared heat, the little white lie to the hospital and the unexpected babies.
“Nothing else to tell,” Owen says.
“Good,” her shoulders relax a fraction in relief, “because there’s already a lot to handle.”
The meeting is taking place in the head of medicine’s office. Hilda is an elderly woman who must have started practicing medicine around the turn of the century. Luckily she’s always taken a liking to us. In fact, she was the one who headhunted Daxton for the position in the ER. I’m hoping that will work in our favor.
Her office has a desk and a small conference table with heaps of textbooks tumbling out of the giant bookcase, in piles all over the floor and spread out across her desk. There are also three skeletons hanging in a row and a collection of specimens in jars of various sizes along the window sill.
Hilda is already sitting at the table with Dr. Godfried the Board secretary, Brian Hoover, the Board chairman, Andi Manners the hospital CEO and three other Board members.
“Ahh, hello fellows,” Hilda says, beckoning to us, “come in, come in and let’s get this unnecessary nonsense over and done with.”
I peer over at my packmates. Owen has adopted his most effective and charming smile while Daxton looks serious and composed. God knows what my face must look like.
We take a seat each, our lawyer sitting alongside Daxton.
“This is Joan,” Daxton explains. “She’s representing our interests.”
“Oh, I’m sure there will be no need for that,” Hilda says.
“Better to be safe than sorry, huh?” Joan says, opening her briefcase and pulling out an expensive fountain pen and a pile of papers. “These are my clients’ reputations we are talking about here today as well as their careers and livelihoods.”
“It’s also the hospital’s reputation,” the CEO says gravely.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Hilda says, throwing the three of us a sympathetic look. At least we have her on side. “Brian, let’s get this started and then we can get it over with.”
“Yes,” Joan agrees. “I hear a complaint has been made against my clients. What exactly is it?”
The secretary, a man not many years older than us with a round face and thinning hair, shuffles his pile of papers uncomfortably.
“It’s actually more of an accusation.”
“Okay,” Joan says.
“What have we been accused of?” Daxton says in a voice bordering on a growl.
“Of, erm, lying to the hospital about your recent bout of illness so that you could use your sick days to engage in,” he clears his throat, “debauchery.”
“Although, I’d dispute that turn of phrase, you are correct,” Daxton says. “We were helping our omega through her heat.”
It’s what we agreed to do. Tell the truth. There have been enough lies and enough sneaking around. If they fire us, so be it. I actually think I’d make a pretty good chef.
However, it’s still shocking to hear him speak the plain and simple truth, especially when the people in front of us gape in dismay.
“You admit it!” the secretary gasps.
“Yes,” Daxton says, “because it’s true. While we take our responsibility to our patients and this hospital incredibly seriously, our utmost duty is to our omega – and any children that may come along.”
“Well, that’s quite understandable,” Hilda says, pushing yet another textbook to one side.
“Yes, but against about twenty hospital and employment policies and rules,” the secretary says, folding his arms over his chest. He’s always been a stickler for the rules.
“Why didn’t you simply apply for heat leave?” the CEO asks. “This hospital has good policies. I’ve made sure of that.”
“You have to give at least two weeks’ notice and our omega’s heat came on suddenly and unexpectedly,” Owen explains.
“Ahh, yes, that would be tricky,” Brian concedes.
“But absolutely no reason to lie to the hospital,” the secretary says, glaring at us.
“My clients were in rut. Their judgment was impaired, and they were concerned about their omega.”
“Hardly an excuse for their actions,” one of the other Board members says.
Brian snorts. “A very big excuse in my book,” he says. “You’re not an alpha, Godfried.” The beta bristles in his seat. “You have no idea what it’s like when you’re in rut, sharing a heat with an omega. I’m only surprised they possessed the foresight to let the hospital know they’d be absent at all.”
“Well, they should have come clean straight away afterwards,” the secretary persists.
“We’ve always been keen to keep our private lives private,” I say.
“Of course you have,” Hilda says, “and to be honest, I for one appreciate it. The number of alphas who parade around this hospital bragging about their sexual conquests is more than there should be.” She side-eyes one of the other Board members.
“This is all irrelevant,” the secretary says, directing most of his comments towards the CEO. “They broke hospital rules. Very important hospital rules. We can’t have our medical staff lying about contracting infectious diseases.”
The CEO nods, Brian peers down at the table and Hilda frowns.
“So what do you intend to do about it?” Daxton asks, cutting to the chase.
“We’ve fired members of staff for far less serious transgressions,” the CEO says. The secretary’s eyes light up with glee. I think he considers us troublemakers.
Our lawyer stares both him and the CEO down. She’s a real ball-breaker – a friend of Daxton’s dad.
“May I remind you that Dr. Wyatt Stanton has improved the success rate for heart surgical procedures at this hospital by over 23% since joining your hospital, as well as finding several cost-cutting measures that since implementation have saved his department half a million dollars annually. Dr. Owen Stanton has an approval rating among his patients of over 97% and among his colleagues it’s over 98%. And Dr. Daxton Stanton has saved more bullet and stab wound victims in this hospital than any of the other consultants combined.”
“We certainly can’t afford to lose them,” Hilda says, the smile returning to her face.
“But they’ve–” the secretary begins.
“They’re in the throes of young love,” Brian says, also grinning. “Don’t you remember what that’s like? Cut them a break.”
The Board secretary must sense he’s close to defeat, but he’s not going down without a fight.
“My recommendation to the disciplinary panel is that they be removed from their posts and reported to the medical Board.”
“And mine,” Hilda says, her smile returned, “is that they forfeit a week’s pay and take on Santa duties in the children’s ward this Christmas.”
“That would be my recommendation also,” Brian agrees.
“I’d get to be Santa?” Owen says, grinning right back at Hilda.
“Oh no,” she says, “I’d have the three of you dressed as elves for the whole of December.”
All three of us groan, although it’s a much better punishment than anything we were expecting, or hoping for.
The CEO stands up from her chair. “Thank you all for coming in. We’re now going to deliberate as a board. I’ll be in touch with our decision.”
Outside in the parking lot we shake hands with our lawyer and stroll back to the truck.
“How do you think that went?” I ask the others. Daxton and Owen are much better at reading people than I am.
“I don’t know,” Owen says. “Brian and Hilda are definitely on our side, but the others …” He shakes his head. “I think it could go either way.”