Deliver Me (12 page)

“Oh. So, you don’t have any children of your own?”
 

“No, no children. Do you?” he asked.

Her head jerked back. “Of course not. I’m not married.”

“Actually, that’s not a requirement,” he said with a grin. There was
something about when he smiled that sent her brain’s pleasure neurons into
overdrive. “It’s not as if you could keep something that big a secret around
here anyway,” Eli said. “Remember the rumor mill?”

“Well, if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to keep my personal life as
far away from the rumor mill as possible.”

“Wouldn’t we all,” he said, still smiling.

She needed to get this discussion over with and get out of this office.
The more space between herself and this man, the better. It was bad enough they
would have to work together on the banquet. She would need all of her powers of
resistance for the upcoming weeks.

Monica took a deep breath. “We need to talk,” she stated, proud that her
voice didn’t shake.

He gestured to a chair, and she took a seat. He perched on the edge of
the rich desktop and crossed his foot at the ankles.

“So, you still think the center can be saved?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Monica replied. He started to speak, but she
stopped him. “I know in the past the banquet hasn’t been much of a money maker,
but this year will be different. There’s too much riding on it.”

He held his hands up. “Dr. Gardner, I doubt there is another person at
this hospital who wants to save the Parenting Center more than I do, but the
state has backed us up against a wall.”

“Would you just hear me out?” God, but he was stubborn. One way or
another, she was going to get this man to listen. “In the past, people paid a
certain amount for a ticket to attend the banquet, right?”

“Twenty-five dollars per couple, fifteen for singles.” Eli pushed himself
off the desk and walked around it, settling into his chair.

“Was that the sole source of revenue?” she asked.

“Some of the local businesses act as sponsors. We’ve done raffles a few
times, and there’s a cash bar at the banquet.”

Just as she suspected, no real moneymakers.

“Well, this year, I proposed we do things a little differently.” Monica
stalled, not sure what his reaction to her next words would be.

Eli raised his eyebrows. “Care to elaborate?”

“I was thinking... Well, I thought we could put on a bachelors’ auction.”
There, she said it.

Eli’s brow etched higher. “Excuse me?”

“A bachelors auction. You know, women can bid for dates with single men.
Single doctors to be exact. This
is
a
hospital benefit, after all.”

“And where do you suppose we find these single doctors?”

Did he really expect an answer, especially when it was so obvious? Monica
answered anyway. “I figured we’ve got more than enough single doctors on staff
and we don’t have to peddle one dollar raffle tickets to our friends and family
or waste valuable time soliciting donations from surrounding businesses, which
are having a hard enough time these days as it is.”

“You’ll solicit human beings instead,” Elijah stated.

“We’ll
seek
volunteers,” she
clarified. “My best friend Nia has a brother who’s a firefighter. His squadron
held an auction with some of the firefighters from their company, and they
raised an obscene amount of money. Granted they
are
firemen, but I know the doctors here can do just as well, if
not better.”

“And exactly how will you convince the single doctors of Methodist
Memorial to take part in this auction?”

“Well...that’s where you come in.”

He stared at her. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked after some time
had lapsed.

“I am very serious.”

“What makes you think the single docs will agree to something like this?”

“Because everyone at the hospital knows how important the Parenting
Center is to this community. I have no doubt the doctors here will be willing
to do all they can to keep the center open.”

“I have an aversion to being paraded around like cattle.”

“You don’t have to,” she said, frustrated. “Just get the rest of them to
participate.”

Eli picked up a ballpoint pen and tapped it against his well-shaped lips.
He gazed at her with shrewd, piercing eyes.

“What is this really about, Dr. Gardner?” Eli tossed the pen
back onto the desk and sat up in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. “Why
are you so determined to make something of the banquet? You just moved here.
You have nothing invested in the Parenting Center.”

“Someone needs to rally around it. If it were up to you, whom I believe
has the most stake in it, the state could just as well close the doors right
now.”

“Because it’s inevitable.”

“You want to know what Nia’s brother’s squadron made on their auction?”

“It wouldn’t be—”

“Forty-two thousand dollars,” Monica said. That shut him up. But not for
long.

“The women in this neighborhood can barely afford to put shoes on their
children’s feet. They’re renovating their houses and trying to replace their
flooded out cars,” Eli rationalized. “Do you really think they’ll be willing to
shuck out thousands to pay for a date with a doctor?”

“Why are you so against this?” Monica asked, holding her hands out in
exasperation.

“I’m not. I told you, I want nothing more than to keep the center open,
but I’ve got to be realistic. I have patients to consider; young women who
think they are going to have decent healthcare throughout their pregnancy. I’m
more concerned with finding them a suitable alternative than crossing my
fingers and hoping we can raise more money than we’ve ever been able to raise
before. I’m sorry, Dr. Gardner, but I don’t think you can pull this off.”

“Of course not, at least not by myself. I need help.” She was not letting
him ruin this for her. Monica took a deep breath, reluctant to admit what she
was about to tell him, but nothing else seemed to get through his thick head.

“Consider my position for a minute,” she said, hating the pleading tone
in her voice. “I’m new here. I want to make a good impression.”

Understanding sparkled in his eyes. “And what could be better than the
new kid on the block stepping in and saving the center?” he concluded before
Monica had the chance to finish. It was all she could do not to grit her teeth.

“Being Super Doc and all, I’m sure you don’t find yourself in need very
often, but try putting yourself in the shoes of someone who could use a little
help.” Monica could not believe she was admitting this, especially to him. But
she was feeling a little desperate. She liked it here, and she wanted to fit
in. She hated playing politics, but it was the way of the world. She would not
be left on the outside looking in.

“It’s not totally selfish.” Monica rose from the chair and started pacing
the floor between his desk and a freshly polished bookshelf. “I believe the
Parenting Center is a wonderful, worthwhile asset to the community.”

“And if saving it will help you look good, that’s just icing on the cake.”
His words mimicked her own thoughts so closely it was almost scary.

Too late, Monica realized admitting her semi-ulterior motive for wanting
to pull off a successful banquet was a mistake of gargantuan proportion. Not
only would he see her as unrealistic—as he had already inferred—but
he would think all she was looking for was praise and recognition. Yeah, she
wanted those things, but her motives were not completely self-serving.

Right, like he would believe that after her proclamation. Monica had a
strong urge to hide under the rich mahogany desk until, oh, the year 2045, or
so. That should be long enough to get over her embarrassment, or at least for
Eli to go senile.

Monica caught the slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He
so
was not laughing at her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said.

“You do?” His grin widened.

“Yes, and I do not appreciate it. I’m a damn good doctor and I can hold
my own in any emergency room you put me in. That is not why I’m pushing for
this banquet. I have nothing to prove.”

“Did I say you did?”

“I know it’s what you’re thinking.”

“Trust me, Dr. Gardner, you have no idea what’s going through my mind
right now.”

Monica caught the laughter in his eyes, but she ignored it. He could go
on thinking what he wanted. She was through doubting her ability. Despite what
happened in St. Louis. Despite what the nagging little voice that occasionally
reared its head whispered to her brain at the most inopportune time. She was a
great
doctor.

But Methodist Memorial was filled with great doctors. She needed
something that would set her apart from the rest. Dr. Slessinger had put a lot
of faith in her, and doing a good job in the ER wouldn’t cut it, at least not
by Monica’s standards. She wanted to do something that would be remembered
throughout the ages, something that would make a lasting impression. She wanted
to save their beloved parenting center.

But she couldn’t do it by herself. She needed help. Eli’s help.

His mouth still held that curious lift with just enough lightheartedness
to be considered a grin. It was unbelievably sexy.

“Have you finished your workout?” he asked, amusement lighting up his
eyes. Monica had never noticed just how deep-set they were.

“I am so relieved you find such joy in this, Dr. Holmes. How powerful it
must feel to have someone admit they need your help, and know that you can
crush all their aspirations with a single word.”

He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his chest. “Why do
you think I would do that?”

“Because you can. And because you’ve already voiced your opinion about
the banquet. It’s a pipe dream. You don’t think it will make a difference. So
why even bother, right? Why don’t we just close the doors now without even
trying?”

“But then how would you impress your colleagues?” he asked, the teasing
laughter still in his eyes.

“You know what, forget it.” Monica headed for the door. She didn’t need
his condescension
or
his help.

Eli shot out of his chair. “Wait a minute,” he said, grabbing her by the
arm. Monica wrenched free.

Eli covered the hand she had wrapped around the door handle. He couldn’t
let her leave. Not yet. Not in anger. And especially not after the idea that
had popped in his mind like a twenty thousand watt light bulb.

Monica Gardner was his salvation; the answer to his fervently prayed
prayers.

When his mother called this morning, asking if he could swing by the
Culpepper house on Sunday to pick up Tosha, Eli had thought up the only excuse
he could muster on such short notice. He told her he would be bringing his new
girlfriend to Sunday dinner. Only problem was he didn’t
have
a girlfriend.

Until now.

Smart and beautiful, Monica was Eli’s ticket to getting his matchmaking
Mama off his back. If he showed up to Sunday dinner with Monica on his arm, his
mother could not possibly continue to shove Tosha Culpepper, Herbalist
Extraordinaire, down his throat.

Dr. Gardner needed his help, but Eli realized he needed hers just as
much. Maybe even more. She simply wanted to look good for her boss; Eli was
fighting for his freedom.

He waited until she was once again seated before taking a seat behind his
desk. He folded his hands and rested his lips on them for a minute,
contemplating his approach. Convincing Monica to go along with the scheme
fermenting in his brain would take more strategizing than Eli had ever had to
exert.

He had no doubt he could do it. He had to. There was too much at stake.
He had been witness to his mother’s handiwork on several occasions. The last
time Margo Holmes tried to hook up one of her sons, the outcome had been
disastrous. Disastrous and tragic—although Alex had gotten Jasmine out of
the deal.

Still, Eli was not in the market for a wife or child. If he ever felt the
urge to spoil a kid rotten, he had his niece. He did not need his mother
pulling out the heavy guns in order to wrestle him into a relationship with a
woman.

Eli needed Monica Gardner. Pretty, smart, sane Monica Gardner.
Dr.
 
Monica Gardner. If his mother was so gung
ho about Tosha being an herbalist, she would probably do cartwheels over Monica
being a highly revered physician.

As he glanced at the open calendar on his desk, Eli recognized that time
was of the essence. If he had any hope of convincing his family he and Monica
were the real deal, he would have to get her on board as quickly as possible.
It would take a lot to pull the wool over Margo Holmes’s eyes.

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” Eli started, not willing to waste
another second.

Monica eyed him with guarded curiosity. He didn’t blame her. What he was
about to propose was as unethical as anything he’d ever thought up.