Chapter eleven
LOGAN
Aboard my family's private jet, the four of us flew to New York.
The girls were absorbed in their tablets for the entire flight. Evelyn sat near them, as far from me as the cabin allowed. For some reason, she seemed irritated.
In my opinion, it was completely unwarranted. Yes, I'd put her in a difficult spot, but hadn't the contract resolved everything? She should see this as the golden opportunity it was. With wise investments, three million dollars could set her up for life.
Upon arrival, we loaded our bags into a rental car and drove straight to the hospital. Evelyn's only question was about lunch for the girls. I assured her the NYCH cafeteria was excellent, and they could eat there while I made my rounds.
The Holloways greeted us and were utterly charmed by my "family.
" They kept remarking how adorable the girls were—though Aurora barely glanced their way and Anna maintained her signature scowl—and how Evelyn and I made such a beautiful couple.
They praised our "maturity" in overcoming past hurts for the sake of the children.
If they only knew our entire relationship was defined by the clauses of a contract. It was a relief to know that after this trip, I'd only see her at the occasional obligatory social function over the next two months. Given my reputation as a recluse who prioritized work, there would be few.
The Holloways invited me on a tour of the hospital facilities to meet other staff and board members. Evelyn and the girls were exempt; it would be too tedious for five-year-olds. A shame, really. They were missing a prime opportunity to cultivate an early interest in medicine.
While they headed to the cafeteria, the Holloways began my tour. With every state-of-the-art lab and cutting-edge wing they showed me, my confidence grew. I knew other qualified doctors were in the running, but my resume and conference presentation had clearly made a lasting impression.
This became even clearer as we entered the research wing. "The facilities at Los Angeles Hospital are above average," Dr. Holloway noted, "but forgive my bluntness, they don't compare to ours. This is a world-class institution."
"I'm well aware. It's a primary reason I want to work here. If hired, I'd be eager to transfer my research."
"Perhaps we can expedite that," the man said.
"But the official interview isn't until the board reconvenes after the holidays," I reminded him.
His wife leaned in. "You don't plan to halt your research for three weeks, do you? I assume you'll just take a few days for the holidays with your family."
"Probably not even that," I replied, seizing a convenient excuse. "My family is in a difficult period with my sister-in-law hospitalized. I doubt we'll have much of a celebration this year."
It was a plausible answer. In truth, I couldn't recall the last Christmas I'd spent with my family.
I always confirmed my attendance, but a last-minute surgery, an ER crisis, or simply being too immersed in my work would inevitably pull me away.
I loved my mother and siblings, but I believed dinners could be made at any time, without having to wait until next Christmas to be together.
My research into early Alzheimer's treatments served a greater good—it could help millions and cement my name in medical history.
I was honest with Evelyn when I said I believed money and influence opened many doors.
I was acutely aware of what my surname did for my career, for better or worse.
Being the son of a famous actress and a renowned architect made me a known quantity, but it also made many doubt my potential in a field so different from my family's.
Perhaps that's exactly why I drove myself to be the best in everything I did.
I was the top student in my classes from high school straight through my medical residency.
“I won’t stop,” I finally replied. “As soon as I get back to Los Angeles, I’ll get back to work.”
"We can speed this up, then. What do you think about continuing your research in our labs?"
That took me by surprise. “But… the interview with the council…”
"It's a mere formality. We can't say anything officially, but... we know the position is already yours. Moving your research here will only speed things up, and it will also give your name some added weight with our board."
How could I deny that proposal?
Of course, I agreed. I thanked them both for the opportunity, sealing the deal with a handshake.
"Thank you so much for this. I'll only need a couple of days to arrange for my materials to be sent over from the other hospital.
" It was only then I remembered a small, crucial detail: I wasn't alone.
"I'll also need to look into renting a house; a hotel room would be difficult for the children long-term. "
"In New York? At this time of year?" the man opined. "The city is packed with tourists. You won't find a short-term rental before New Year's."
"No hotel," the woman stated firmly. "You four will stay as our guests. And I won't accept any refusal."
"We don't want to be a disturbance," I replied, already envisioning the disaster. The girls might call Evelyn by her real name, shattering our charade. "Children can be very... noisy."
"Nonsense! Your daughters are two sweethearts. Besides, we're barely home, and we live in a mansion that's far too big for just two. You'll have plenty of room to be comfortable. And I repeat: no refusals."
They didn't accept refusals.
And I was in no position to refuse anything from the two people whose support I needed most.
So, I simply agreed, even though I knew Evelyn would be furious. The original plan was two days, but now it seemed she was stuck with me for the entire two-month term of our contract.
I pushed that concern aside, however, the moment I was shown the hospital's laboratories. Having my research associated with this institution would be the crowning achievement on my resume—a golden opportunity I couldn't pass up.
A few hours later, we concluded the tour.
I said goodbye to the Holloways as they left for a meeting and headed down to the cafeteria to meet Evelyn and the girls.
I expected to find them furious at my delay.
The children were probably bored, and I knew how difficult Anna could be when she was annoyed.
Which is why the scene I walked into stopped me in my tracks.
I spotted the three of them at a table by a glass wall overlooking a winter garden.
Anna and Aurora were laughing—not just smiling, but laughing out loud, their joy echoing through the space.
I stood there, staring. It was the first time I had ever heard Aurora make a sound, and it prompted my first real thought about her.
She was a hearing-impaired girl who couldn't speak, but she had a voice, and I hadn't even heard it—not even her laugh—in all this time. From the documents Eleanor sent, I knew she'd been in speech therapy since she was a baby, which was likely why her lip-reading was so advanced.
For the first time, I wondered what more I could do for her. At the very least, she needed to continue her treatments, but I could probably do better.
My gaze shifted to Evelyn, who was talking to them both using American Sign Language with a surprising fluency. She wasn't the syrupy, baby-talking type, but she seemed to understand the girls completely and conversed with them effortlessly... No wonder they were so attached to her.
Evelyn was the complete opposite of anyone you'd call 'sweet' or 'gentle.' But there was something utterly captivating about her. Something beyond her beauty that held my attention.
She finished whatever story she was signing, and both girls burst into another peal of laughter. Evelyn laughed with them, a genuine, warm sound. And I just stood there, completely transfixed by the scene.