Chapter 10 #2
“People will believe it,” I tell her. “I think Nina was just disappointed.”
Alexandra smiles faintly. “Maybe. I guess I should go to dinner at the Tates’ with you.”
“If you’re up for it,” I say carefully.
“Sure. I mean, we told them I’d go, and if we’re going to pretend, it makes sense. And if you’re willing to fake a relationship, the least I can do is help you with the Nina situation.”
“Thanks.” If I hadn’t felt guilty before, I sure would now. I’ve landed her in a mess, but she still wants to help me with the Nina situation.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask. “The fake relationship, I mean, not just the dinner at the Tates’.”
“I think so,” she says slowly. “I mean—we won’t tell our families about this, right?”
“It’s probably simplest if we don’t,” I reply, because I can tell from her expression that she doesn’t want to.
She nods. “Yeah, my parents would never believe it.”
“Have you told them I’m a horrible boss?” I tease.
“Hardly,” she says ruefully. “I haven’t told them anything about you, actually. We’re not exactly close. But you’re a neurosurgeon and I’m an assistant, so . . .”
She’s worried her parents will think she’s not good enough.
Clearly, there’s something wrong with her parents.
Regardless of whether it’s true, parents are supposed to think there’s no one good enough for their daughter.
Unless the daughter’s an axe murderer or something, I guess, but when it’s a woman like Alexandra . . .
Yeah. There’s definitely something wrong with her parents.
“I understand,” I tell her. “You’ve told your parents you’d never date a neurosurgeon, and you don’t want to admit you’ve changed your mind.”
This draws a halfhearted laugh.
“And it’s probably best I don’t introduce you to my sister,” I continue. “Breanna would like you a lot, and she’d be crushed when it ended.”
“Oh.” Alexandra looks like she doesn’t know quite what to make of that. “Right. We won’t tell our families.”
“Agreed. But if we’re going to do this, we should disclose the relationship to admin as soon as possible.” I pull out my phone. “I’ll email Heather and Bernie McGregor.”
Alexandra’s brow furrows. “Bernie McGregor?”
“The chief of medical staff,” I explain. “My boss.”
“I didn’t know you had a boss,” she says.
“Of course I have a boss,” I tell her as I tap out an email. “I’m just the chief of the surgery department. Bernie oversees all the doctors, in all the departments.”
“Oh.” Her brow pleats again, this time with anxiety. “We have to tell him we’re dating?”
I’m not exactly thrilled about it myself, but I’m not going to tell her that.
“He’s a nice guy, Alexandra. A pediatrician.
” Pediatricians seem like gentle people, and Bernie fits the stereotype.
If anything, he’s too nice, and it makes him an ineffective chief of staff.
You need some native cunning to navigate the snake pit of hospital politics, and unfortunately Bernie has none.
Alexandra relaxes a little. “Okay.”
I finish up my email and put the phone back in my pocket. “I have to be in the clinic this afternoon, but I asked Heather and Bernie to meet us at five. They can coordinate with HR if they need to.” I don’t know anyone in HR, and I don’t have time to figure it out today.
Alexandra blinks at me. “You want to meet this afternoon?”
“Yeah. The sooner we tell them the better, and I operate all day tomorrow.”
“You think they’ll be available?”
“Probably. I told them it was important. I can text you when I hear back. Or you can log in to my email and check for a reply.”
“Right.”
“Ideally we should meet with them together, but if you have other plans I can do it myself.”
“I can come,” Alexandra says resolutely. She looks like she’s agreeing to a root canal, or something equally unpleasant.
“Great. I’ll meet you in my office when I’m done in the clinic.”
My phone pings, and I pull it out to read the message. “Heather says she’ll be there.”
All of a sudden, Alexandra’s expression lightens. “I wish I’d seen the look on Heather’s face when she got your message,” she says with a chuckle. “Dr. Malone, asking for a meeting!”
“The irony isn’t lost on me,” I say dryly.
“She’s probably worried that someone hacked into your email or something,” she teases. “And the message isn’t really from you.”
“Very funny, Alexandra.”
I walk Alexandra back to my office before heading to the clinic.
Celine’s already behind the reception desk. “How was coffee?” she asks innocently.
“Great.” I can tell she’s dying to ask about Alexandra, but I send her a look that shuts that down. It’s bad enough that I have to meet with Bernie McGregor and Heather Larkin; I don’t want to have to explain it to Celine too.
“Where are we at?” I ask.
“Your resident’s in room two with the first patient,” she explains. “Second patient’s in three.”
“Thanks, Celine.” I walk to the workstation at the back and take a minute to collect myself. I need to get my head in the game before I start seeing patients.
Fortunately, this afternoon’s patients are pretty straightforward. I make it out of the clinic in good time, and walk to my office to meet Alexandra.
She’s sitting behind her desk, eating some sort of sour candy, and she looks nervous.
“Ready?” I ask. “Bernie McGregor replied to say he’s available too. We’re going to meet in his office.”
She swallows hard. “Okay. Gummy worm for luck?” she offers, holding the package out towards me.
“We won’t need luck, Alexandra,” I tell her, but I take a gummy worm anyway. “Bernie and Heather won’t have a problem with the fact that we’re dating.”
“Pretending to date,” she corrects quickly.
“Pretending to date,” I agree. “But since that would be harder to explain, we should probably tell them it’s real.”
“Yeah. Of course.” She pauses. “Did you tell them why you wanted to meet?”
“No, just that I needed to discuss a personal issue. I figured it would be better to spring it on them in person.”
This was partly strategic, because a request to discuss a personal issue is rarely good.
They’re probably expecting me to say I need a leave of absence because of an illness or a family emergency.
Or maybe that I’ve decided to resign as the chief of surgery, which would mean a complex recruitment process and a lot of work for them.
So compared to what they’re probably thinking, the fact that I want to date Alexandra should be good news.
When we reach Bernie’s office in the executive wing, Heather and Bernie are waiting for me. They look surprised to see Alexandra.
“Bernie, Heather, thanks for making the time,” I say. “This is my assistant, Alexandra Parker. She’s going to be joining us.”
“Sure. Of course.” Bernie gives Alexandra a curious look as he ushers us into his office.
His office is at least double the size of mine, and there’s a conference table on one side with seating for six. I sit next to Alexandra, and Heather and Bernie face us.
“So,” Bernie says. “You mentioned there was a personal matter . . .”
“Has there been an issue with Alexandra’s work?” Heather asks. “Because she’s still within her probationary period, so if you’re unhappy—”
“No,” I say quickly. There’s no point dragging this out longer than necessary. “Actually, I would like to date Alexandra. And we’re aware of the hospital policy on employee relationships, so we wanted to disclose it to you immediately.”
The room falls silent. Bernie blinks, and Heather stares at me slack-jawed.
Bernie finds his voice first. “You would like to date Miss Parker,” he repeats, as though he can’t quite believe his ears. “You mean . . . like a romantic relationship?”
“Yes.” I really hope he doesn’t make me spell it out further. Bernie’s in his mid-sixties, and I’m pretty sure he’s been married for decades. The last time he dated, it was probably called courtship. This feels a bit like talking about your love life with your grandfather.
Although Bernie’s probably actually around my father’s age.
Shit. Does Alexandra think I’m old? I’m pretty sure she’s twenty-six, and I’m thirty-four. Which isn’t an awful age difference, I don’t think. But maybe she does?
But it doesn’t matter, because we’re just pretending.
“That’s great,” Bernie says with a big smile.
Heather Larkin finds her voice. “Have you started dating already? Has there been any physical intimacy?”
Have I mentioned that I don’t like Heather Larkin?
“No. No physical intimacy,” I say firmly. “We’ve played tennis together once, but we didn’t touch each other.”
Fuck, that came out wrong. Fortunately, Heather and Bernie don’t seem to have noticed, but Alexandra’s eyes widen. She squirms in her chair a little, and her thigh brushes mine.
I shift my leg away from hers. It’s really hot in here; I need to get this done and get out of here.
Heather Larkin has lipstick on her teeth. I try to focus on that, rather than the fact that Alexandra’s leg is an inch away from mine.
And Alexandra has bedroom hair. I bet it would feel like silk in my fingers . . .
“And Alexandra,” Heather says. “Are you interested in dating Dr. Malone? Because there’s a power differential here, and we need to confirm that you’re not feeling pressured or coerced.”
I really don’t like Heather Larkin. I also hate that she’s absolutely right to ask the question.
But Alexandra rises to the occasion. “Yes, of course I’d like to date Dr. Malone,” she says calmly. “I’m not feeling pressured at all.”
Bernie beams at us. “Well, this is great news.”
Alexandra nods, and I can tell she’s a little surprised by Bernie’s reaction. He’s behaving like a father whose socially awkward son (me), has announced he’s found a girl to date. To make things even better, the girl has just confirmed that she’s willing.
“And it sounds like you’ve behaved very responsibly so far,” Bernie continues.
I need to cut this off before Bernie decides to give us a safe sex talk.
“We’ve certainly tried, Bernie,” I say. “Heather, I imagine Alexandra will need to be reassigned to work with someone else? As you’ve pointed out, she’s still on probation, but I’ve promised this won’t adversely affect her career.”
“Of course,” Heather says with a smile. “I originally thought Alexandra might work for me, I just thought your need was greater.” She turns to Alexandra. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll report to me directly.”
Alexandra nods. “Okay.”
“We’ll have to hire you another assistant, Dr. Malone.”
“I guess so, yeah.” This doesn’t seem like the right time to argue with Heather about whether I need another assistant.
“It’s getting late, so let’s circle back to that another day.
Heather or Bernie, I was hoping one of you could get in touch with the appropriate person in HR.
You can let us know if they need anything further from us. ”
“Of course, Dr. Malone,” Heather says. “I’ll do that tomorrow, first thing.”
“Great,” I say. “So I think we can wrap things up here?”
Heather and Bernie both nod.
“Thanks again for meeting with us on such short notice,” I say, as Alexandra and I stand to leave.