Escort (A Standalone Romance Novel) (New York City Bad Boy Romance) (21 page)

“Our relationship didn’t begin, as it
were, until after she was in the trial,” I tell him.

“But you got her into the trial because
you had feelings for her, isn’t that so?”

“She was enrolled in the trial before
anything significant happened between the two of us,” I tell him.

“From what I heard,” Dr. Preston says,
“whatever you’re referring to as ‘significant’ happened before her first day
in
the trial, though, thus meaning she
was still your patient at the time.”

“Where are you getting all this?”

Could Yuri really be so pissed off that
I’m risking my career for Grace that she would put it in jeopardy out of spite?

“It doesn’t matter,” Dr. Preston says.
“What does matter is that as of now, you no longer have rights at this
hospital. I’ll need your ID badge. I’ll let you know when we’ve scheduled your meeting.”

“You would have done the same thing I
did,” I tell him. “Personal relationship or not, you know how seldom it can be
that we get a win around here. I know we save lives every day, but there are so
many that we simply can’t do anything for. We can throw medication at them, but
you and I both know there are some conditions that are simply going to win in
the end. Whether it’s a day or twenty years, if we can help our patients live
longer even by a little bit, don’t you think it’s our responsibility as doctors
to do it?”

“I don’t think you and I should discuss
this any further until your hearing,” Dr. Preston says. “I need you to give me
your ID badge.”

*
       
*
       
*

Grace isn’t answering her door. I’ve tried
calling her, but her phone is still going straight to voicemail.

Next, I try call Yuri and, surprise,
surprise, she picks up almost immediately.

“I know you’re mad at me,” she says before
anything else, “but I just wanted to do the right thing for you.”

“I’m suspended pending a hearing,” I tell
her. “I could lose my medical license as a result of that hearing, so I’m
really having a hard time buying that you just did this to protect my career.”

“It’s not just that. You’ve got a history
of being with women who treat you like crap, who try to take over your whole
life and make you utterly miserable.”

“And what business is that of yours?”

“It’s my business,” she says. “You’re my
boss and you’re my friend and…well, I don’t want to see you be miserable for
the rest of your life just because some tumor chick batted her eyes at you.”

“Why would you do this? You say that we’re
friends and you say that you’re trying to protect my career and that you’re
trying to protect me on a personal level, but the only thing you’ve
accomplished by going to Dr. Preston is
cause
the very
things you say you’re trying to prevent.”

“I know,” she says. “I just got sick of
seeing what was happening to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

The door to Grace’s apartment opens a few
inches and I cover the phone.

“Could you keep it down?” Grace asks
quietly. “I do have neighbors, you know.”

“Yuri, hold on,” I speak into the phone.
“Grace, would you let me in so we can talk?”

“It sounds like you’re pretty busy right
now,” she says. “By the way, you’re in a fucking mess.”

“I know I’m in a fucking mess,” I tell
her. “Can we talk?”

“Whatever,” she says, but at least she
doesn’t close the door.

“Yuri,” I say into the phone, still
standing just outside Grace’s apartment, “I’m going to have to call you back.”

“This is what always fucking happens,” Yuri
says. “You think you like someone, but then they just ignore you so they can go
after the last person on the God damned planet they should be going after.”

“What?”

“Do you really think that I’m just going
to stand by and watch you continue to do what you’re doing? I don’t care if
you’ve already been suspended,” she says. “You’re just doing the same shit that
made you miserable before and it’s just going to keep making you miserable
because you go for the wrong kinds of women.”

“The kind of women I ‘go after,’” I tell
her, “is not in any way your concern.”

“Do you have any idea how long I waited
for you and that stupid fucking bitch you were dating to break up? I thought
this was supposed to be my big chance, but you never even looked at me that
way, did you?”

“You’re my assistant, Yuri,” I tell her.
“It wouldn’t be appropriate-”

“Oh you can’t seriously be using that
fucking line,” she says. “You’re the one who’s sleeping with a patient. You’re
the one who broke who knows how many ethical guidelines so you could keep
sticking it in your chemo bimbo.”

That may very easily be the most
insensitive term for anyone I’ve ever heard.

“You’re really going to tell me that you
and
me
being together would be inappropriate? You
really need to check your fucking life, boss.”

“Yuri,” I tell her, “I’m going to have to
let you go.”

“Fine,” she says. “But call me when you’re
done; we’re talking about this later.”

“No, I mean I’m going to have to let you
go. You’re fired,” I tell her.

“You know, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to
fire someone for disclosing
your
unethical behavior.”

“Well, the way it’s looking, it’s not
going to matter too much whether you lay another charge on me,” I tell her.
“You’ve done plenty.”

I hang up the phone.

After putting the phone in my pocket, I
reach out to open Grace’s door further and go inside, but the door creaks open
before I can lay my hand on the knob.

Grace is standing behind the door, saying,
“That was bullshit.”

“I know,” I tell her. “I had no idea Yuri
was going to-”

“Very much not what I was talking about,”
Grace says and slams the door in my face.

It’s been that kind of day.

Chapter
Seventeen

Rebooting

Grace

The downside of cutting off all contact
with Jace is that I couldn’t get a referral from him. Of course, with all the
shit he’s in right now, I’m not sure if that many doctors would really be
interested in taking his referrals anyway.

Right now, I’m sitting in the chemo suite
of Parkside Hospital. My new doctor, Dr. Quintana, tends to favor an
intravenous approach when it comes to a chemo delivery system.

I’m not a fan.

The oral crap was bad enough, but with
this stuff, my vein feels like it’s eroding at an incredible rate and I’m
getting hit with all the hell of chemo that I had just started to get used to
before I went in for that stupid trial, only the symptoms are worse and they’re
hitting me a lot quicker.

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Quintana asks
me after my next round of vomiting.

“I’ve never felt better,” I tell him. “I
hope there’s a marathon today because I feel like going for a nice twenty-six
mile run right about now.”

 
“I
wouldn’t suggest that you go running in your current condition, especially for
such a distance,” he says.

Dr. Quintana doesn’t seem to understand or
appreciate sarcasm.

This is the kind of thing that makes me
miss
Jace. I’m not mad at him for me getting kicked out of
the trial. I mean, I was at first, but I’m not anymore.

Even when I was upset at him over the
trial, I knew it wasn’t his fault, that I wouldn’t have been in the trial in
the first place if he hadn’t put himself in such a precarious position.

My phone rings, and it’s with a great deal
of annoyance that I reach into my purse to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Grace, it’s me, Margaret. You really need
to come in,” my intrepid little secretary says.

“I’m having toxic sludge pumped into my
veins at the moment,” I tell her. “Can it wait?”

“Shoot,” she says. “I forgot you were back
on chemo.”

“What’s going on?”

“John just got fired,” she says. “I guess
he was badmouthing this idea you shared with one of the members of the board
and it got kind of heated. He said that it was either him or you and they chose
to keep you.”

“Why would they fire him just for
badmouthing me?” I ask. “He’s been doing that for years.”

“Well, he may have told Mrs. Sutton that
she was an idiot for wanting to go with your idea to work Memento into more
markets,” she says.

“Yeah, calling a board member an idiot
will usually — they’re going to do it?”

“Yeah,” Mags says. “They wanted me to give
you a call and get you in here so they could tell you themselves.”

“I’m stuck here,” I tell her. “Is there
any way you could schedule a meeting with them for me tomorrow?”

“Grace?” It’s Mrs. Sutton, the board
member who I apparently should have talked to years ago.

“Yes, Mrs. Sutton,” I respond.

“You assistant said something about chemo,
are you all right?”

Okay, John may have had a point when he
called her an idiot. I didn’t expect the board would know or care that I’ve got
this thing in my head, but it’s pretty safe to assume that a person on chemo
isn’t all right.

“I’m just in the middle of a-”

“Grace, I’ve talked to the rest of the
board, and we’re all in agreement,” she interrupts. “We’d like you to spearhead
our expansion in the Midwest. I know you’ve been softening the ground for a
while now, and there’s no one else more prepared to move on this than you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask.

It almost sounded like she’s offering me a
promotion.

“We’d like for you to fly out to
Cleveland. I understand you’ve been working with someone out there at KJBP, and
I’d like you to extend a formal offer on behalf of Memento,” she says.

“Tonight?” I ask. “I really don’t think —
Mrs. Sutton, even if they were to take the needle out of me now, I don’t think
I’d-”

“Well, we don’t want to wait very long on
this,” she interrupts. “Just do me a favor and tell me that you’ll get in touch
as soon as you’re feeling up to it. I’d hate to have to send someone in your
place after all the work you’ve put into this.”

I’d approached her and told her I thought
we should be expanding into other markets, but I didn’t give her any specifics
and I certainly didn’t mention Andrew, the man from KJBP I’ve been working
with.

It must have been Mags. There’s no doubt
in my mind that she’s the one who decided to fill Mrs. Sutton in on the
details.

“I’m not sure when I’ll-” I start.

“Make it soon,” Mrs. Sutton interrupts
again. “We’re planning on moving you out to Cleveland if this thing sticks, so
I’d be prepared to make the pitch of my life if I were you.”

There’s some interesting phrasing.

“How long can this wait?” I ask, not about
to fly out to Cleveland while having to deal with the effects of chemo.

“The best I can give you is until the end
of the week,” she says. “When’s your next round of chemo finished?”

“End of the week,” I tell her.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I really can’t
give you any longer.”

Isn’t it strange how they were apparently
waiting for most of the term of the company’s existence, but now that they’ve
apparently started listening to me, it can’t wait another week?

“That seems unfair,” I tell her. “I put
this together. What’s with the timetable?”

“We need to get going on this. KJBP’s
already starting to get other offers.”

Someone leaked it. This is the problem
with telling anyone anything.

“It’s strange that they would receive
another offer,” I tell her. “I’ve kept this move under wraps for quite some
time and they’ve never had another offer before.”

“I may have threatened them by saying that
if they didn’t sell to us, they’d end up as just another Disney channel or
CNN,” she says reluctantly.

“And let me guess…”

“Yeah, they called both companies to find
out what kind of offer they were going to make.”

That was pretty stupid. Not of KJBP, but
of Mrs. Sutton.

Yeah, a lot of smaller stations are scared
of getting eaten up by the bigger guys, but every station is looking to turn a
profit. If it comes down to a choice between the
pride
of remaining a small station that can do something relatively close to what
they want and the station owner making a shitload of money…you can guess which
way they’re going to go.

The one way to get a bigger fish to eat
your meal is to let them know, directly or indirectly, that you’re making a
move to expand. Aspiring monopolies hate competitors, but they’re usually
willing to let a few weaklings like Memento Entertainment exist, so long as we
crowd out anyone who might be a serious threat.

By moving to expand in another market and
being stupid enough not to keep things properly quiet, we’ve become what they’d
consider a serious threat. It really doesn’t take much, those with the most
power are often the most insecure.

“Why even bother sending me out there?” I
ask. “We don’t have the war chest to win.”

“They like you,” she says. “They want to
give you the first crack at it, but you’re going to have to make it one hell of
a proposal.”

“What do I have to bargain with?”

“We’re willing to go as high as ten
million,” she says.

Well, they’re not hamstringing me
entirely, but in the world of television, ten million isn’t that much money.
Actually, yeah, they’re hamstringing me entirely. KJBP never going to go for
ten million now.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fly by
then,” I tell her, “but let me call my contact. I might be able to get him out
here.”

I’ve got an idea that has a slight chance
of turning the tide, but it’s still a long shot.

“Do whatever you have to do,” Mrs. Sutton
says.

Somehow, I get the feeling that she isn’t
going to come clean if KJBP ends up going the other direction. I’m pretty sure
she’s telling me that my job is hanging in the balance here.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I tell her.
“Just do me a favor and let me deal with this from here. The last thing I need
is for someone telling them that CBS is looking for another affiliate.”

“Yeah, about that…” she says, and how this
woman got to be on the board of anything, I have no idea.

“I’ll call when I know something,” I tell
her and hang up the phone.

This is some bullshit, but it’s the
closest thing to movement I’m likely to see for the rest of my career with M.E.
I’d love to say that I’m confident in my ability to snatch this deal out from
under the big guys, but all I have to work with is ten million?

I swear, if this ends up falling through
and I end up losing my job, I’m taking Mrs. Sutton down with me, no matter how
entrenched she may be with the board.

Now Jace is walking into the room, though,
and I’m feeling all of the annoyance, anger, frustration, sickness and pain I
feel physically turning toward him. Like the woman from the board I just
finished talking to, he could have made things a lot easier if only he’d kept
his fucking mouth shut.

He’s going to let his career burn because
the two of us have some kind of relationship, but what he doesn’t seem to get
is that it wouldn’t have mattered if I made some improvements on that drug. The
reality is that I don’t have a long life ahead of me no matter what happens.

I can’t just sit back while he buries
himself, but I don’t think he’s going to make the right choice on his own. He
already fired Yuri for doing what she was actually supposed to do. If he’s going
to save himself, he and I need to not be together, but the only way I think
that’s going to happen is if I go nuclear.

Let’s just say that after that phone call,
I’m already getting tired of having to clean up other people’s mistakes.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I wanted to come and check on you,” he
says. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“I’ve been better,” I tell him, “but that
couldn’t possibly matter right now.”

“Why not?”

“Why are you here?”

“I told you, I wanted to come and check on
you,” he repeats.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” I tell him.

“How is that supposed to feel? What
does
it feel like?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “It doesn’t
feel good.”

“My hearing’s coming up,” he says. “I’m a
bit nervous about which direction it’s going to go. This kind of thing isn’t
really looked on that kindly in my profession.”

“Why didn’t you tell them about Dr.
Marcum? If you weren’t going to use the backstory you concocted, then why did
you set it up in the first place?”

“When I was in that moment,” he says, “I
realized that I couldn’t jeopardize another doctor’s reputation or security
just to cover for myself.”

“How noble.”

“I get that you’re not feeling well,” he
says, “but we knew this could happen.”

“I guess I just thought that we might try
going for a different result,” I tell him.

“They had me,” he says. “Yuri sold me
out.”

“Yeah, your groupie,” I tell him. “You
probably should have done something about that a while ago.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you know how I knew your ex was
cheating on you?” I ask.

“You said it was because being
an
…” he finally notices I’m not the only one with a chair in
the chemo suite. He leans close and lowers his voice. “You said it was because
of my second job and that she’s the one that convinced me to get it.”

“No, you moron,” I tell him. “I swear, men
will not make it another step forward in this world until they learn to
understand women.”

“What was it then?”

“It was the way she acted,” I tell him.
“It was the way she looked at you and talked to you in front of other people.”

“What do you mean?”

I sigh. “We’re really not that difficult
to understand,” I tell him. “Most of us have developed a pretty good poker face
out of sheer necessity, but you can always tell when a woman is asking for
something she doesn’t really want. Do you really think that filming the two of
you together was what
she
wanted to
do? It was a fucking power trip for the other guy.”

“How does that even matter?” he asks.
“Whatever the reason, the relationship is over, done.”

“Yeah, I get that, but what I’m really
getting at is that you don’t pick up the signs that women are holding up in
front of you. I could have told you after five minutes that Yuri’s got a thing
for you. You can see it in the way she looks at you when you enter the room.”