Redeeming The Rebel Doc. Susan Carlisle

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      Tiffani took the chair beside the doctor. He glanced at her before turning those sharp eyes on Dr. Nelson, who said, “I’ve explained the situation to Dr. Maxwell and he’s willing to give you his full support.”

      Dr. Maxwell shifted in his seat. She glanced at him. His attention seemed focused on a small statue on the shelf behind Dr. Nelson’s desk. He didn’t look pleased.

      The older man continued as if he hadn’t noticed. “Both of you are professionals. I know you’ll handle this project discreetly. With great aplomb. I expect a report in a week that I can give the board.” He paused to look at each of them. “I’m here to help and I look forward to this being a meaningful, productive and very successful project. Please, call on me if there are any issues.”

      Dr. Maxwell stood, passing behind her chair on his way out. He was already in the hallway before Tiffani could gather her purse and bag. She looked at Nelson but he merely watched as she raced after the most important element to her plan. Her timetable required transforming her ideas into reality right away. That meant immediately getting better acquainted with Dr. Maxwell. He, however, was a good way down the long hall and using a stride she found difficult to match.

      She called his name but he didn’t slow or even look back as he briskly continued. The rapid tap, tap, tap of her heels echoed off the walls so he had to know she was behind him. As he slowed in front of a closed elevator door she finally caught up and grabbed his arm. To her amazement, he looked surprised to see her and glanced at where her hand rested.

      Tiffani released him and said breathlessly, “I’ve been trying to get your attention since we left Dr. Nelson’s office.”

      “I have a patient waiting.” He pushed the button for the elevator again. The doors opened.

      “We need to talk. I have plans to implement.”

      He stepped into the elevator, his gaze meeting hers.

      She pursed her lips, hitched her bag strap more securely on her shoulder and stepped aboard just as the door was closing.

      His eyes widened. “This is a staff-only elevator.”

      “Then I’ll get off when you do. Right now, I am going to talk to you.” She was determined to pin him down to a time they could meet. Timing was everything in this campaign.

      He gave her a pointed look. “Ms. Romeo, I don’t have time to waste right now.”

      They faced each other like two bulls in a box. She had no intention of letting this man dismiss her. Meeting his obstinate expression with one of her own, she said tightly, “It is Ms. Romano. How soon can you meet with me?”

      “I don’t know how long this surgery will take. You handle things without me.”

      The elevator stopped. There was a ding before the doors opened. He almost jumped in his haste to get out. Tiffani didn’t hesitate to follow. “So I’m to make the decisions and give you the details?”

      He kept walking. “Works for me.”

      She stayed with him, saying in a stern voice, “This project will only be successful if you play a significant part.”

      They soon faced closed double doors.

      Eyes locked on those doors, he removed his badge and swiped it over an ID pad as he announced, “Look, I have patients to see. I have neither the time nor the interest in being a part of your PR campaign.”

      The doors opened. He went through.

      She did too. “Dr. Maxwell, Dr. Nelson told me you’re willing to give this campaign your full support. Did you lie to him or was he lying to me?”

      He stopped so suddenly she almost bumped into his backside. “You can’t be in here.”

      “What?” She didn’t understand the abrupt change in the conversation.

      “This is the surgery suite. Didn’t you read any of the signs?” he asked, as if she were a four-year-old.

      “Uh, no, I didn’t.”

      “Are you planning to follow me into the OR?”

      “No.” She certainly had zero interest in doing that. She’d seen enough gore to last her a lifetime, having had to help care for her father. She had started cleaning and bandaging his wounds while she’d been in middle school.

      “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Romano,” he said stiffly, before he turned and walked away, dismissing her.

      Furious, Tiffani backtracked her way to Dr. Nelson’s office. The return trip calmed her and she sighed. Somehow, she had to gain Dr. Maxwell’s cooperation. Without Dr. Maxwell there was no successful PR crusade, no promotion and no escaping her past.

      * * *

      Rex had been fairly certain when he’d entered Nelson’s office that he wasn’t going to like whatever the meeting topic was, and then Nelson had caught him off guard with the stupid PR project. Rex had barely been able to conceal his disgust. He hated being forced to be part of another dog-and-pony show at this point in his life, his career. The hospital would survive the recent bad press, just as he had. All that was needed was time. That was what it had taken after the bubble had burst when he’d been a kid. He’d gotten over the lies and what he had believed about his family. He was a better man, a bluntly honest one, thanks to the experience.

      No, participating in a cover-up to make everything squeaky clean was something he refused to do. Shouldn’t have to. Proving his abilities as a surgeon was unnecessary. He already knew he was good. The people he’d saved before and after Royster were proof enough.

      * * *

      Late that evening, with his patient doing well, he finally got back to his office. The voice mail light was blinking. Ms. Romano’s, stating she would like to meet with him first thing in the morning, was the third message. Rex harrumphed. He’d bet she had no idea that his day started at five thirty. She could figure that out on her own. He didn’t feel like dealing with her nonsense.

      With her dark hair twisted tightly and her expensive-looking navy blue business suit, Ms. Romano struck him as an uptight bit of fluff. Someone trying to project an aura of authority, with her don’t-mess-with-me attitude. The only hint that she might have a softer side had been the glimpse of cleavage in the V of her white silk blouse.

      Long ago he’d gotten beyond being impressed by what a person wore. Still, something about Ms. Romano’s attire made him think she was trying to make a point to the world. He wasn’t interested in being a part of her road to redemption or whatever she was after.

      His allegiance lay with the free spirits of the world, those willing to live their lives without worrying about public opinion. Ms. Romano’s job alone said she cared too much about what people thought. He’d leave making the hospital look good to her and go on about his business.

      * * *

      The next evening it was well past dinnertime when he finally made it back to his office. Intent on grabbing his jacket, finding a hot meal and going home to bed, he opened the door and froze as he reached for his coat. Ms. Romano sat in one of his two visitors’ chairs.

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