Conflicts of the Heart (3 page)

With her mind on Patrick, she sailed through a brief tour of her offices, met her staff, thanked Gil, then hustled her assistant, Ann Sloane, an elegant, middle-aged woman, out onto the floor to see if they could catch Mitchell breaking the rules. Dana’s heart thundered. Even if her deception yesterday set them off on a sour note, he should know she caught him in the wrong.

* * *

In the main lobby, the elevator doors opened at the same moment Patrick hit the up button. A crunch of night shift employees pushed out into the corridor, somber and tired looking. Patrick greeted them.

On the way up to the critical care unit, he thought about his bitter conversation with Elaine last evening. She fought hard trying not to loosen her grip on Lisa by not allowing her to come to California for a visit. She must be using Lisa to get him back, the last thing he’d ever do. It wasn’t fair. He’d already made all the arrangements for Lisa’s care while he worked, even planned day trips on the weekends. He wanted to teach her to ride Yin, his Arabian mare. Now he made a promise to Lisa he couldn’t keep. He made a big mistake accepting this job, taking him away from her for the past two years. His visiting rights were if he stayed in New York. Elaine coveted that clause in their settlement. She allowed Lisa visits in the past, but for some unknown reason, she withdrew this year. He took this job for the future, a necessary career move if he ever wanted to get back to New York and that top spot at the home office. How else could he afford the exorbitant support checks? The Professional Nurses Association wanted him in Ashton. Going elsewhere meant starting over. Once he got this contract, the company guaranteed his promotion.
Hopefully within the next six months max.

The elevator doors slid open on the fifth floor. He wondered if the woman he’d met yesterday might be working today. He checked his watch. The new human resources director started today too. He wouldn't make rounds his first day on the job. Surely he’d meet with his staff first and get organized before going out to greet everyone.

When Patrick reached the unit, most of the nurses and aides were already in patient rooms taking vitals, checking charts. A young woman and an older man in blue scrubs were busy making computer entries and didn't look up when Patrick laid a small pile of leaflets on the counter. “Tina,” he called to the slender clerk. “May I use the phone?”

Her eyebrows rose.
“Sorry, Mr. Mitchell. Against house rules.”

Uh-oh, the jig was up. He had better drop off these leaflets and get out of here. The clerk shot up from her chair.

“Good morning, Ann,” Tina said as if ready to salute

Ann, the assistant director who’d done nothing to keep Patrick off the floors after Benson left, ambled up with the woman he met yesterday.

“Good morning, Tina.” Ann winked. “I'd like you to meet our new Associate Administrator, Dana Claiborne.”

Dana reached a hand across the counter.
“Nice to meet you.”

“Welcome.” Tina turned to Patrick and gave him a ‘caught in the
act’ smile.

Patrick stared in shock at the woman. Here, he thought the new employee might be a nurse, instead he stared directly at his new opponent, a woman sitting across from him at the negotiating table. Hellfire! Maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel for a quick resolution to this contract after all. Then again, this lady knew enough to come in early and get the lay of the land. She probably already had the administrator and the board of directors wrapped around her little finger. With her stunning appearance and accomplished demeanor, he could understand that. She was a class act with her small, finely-honed features, little makeup and dressed in a white and tan summer suit. She had the corporate look.
He folded his arms across his chest and gazed down into her large dark brown eyes flashing at him. What a delightfully sneaky woman. He would’ve given her a few things to think about before negotiating, had she been a man and pulled this stunt on him.

“Hi, there.”
He sounded more like a blundering bumpkin to himself than an accomplished negotiator.

“Mr. Patrick Mitchell,” she purred. “We meet again. Sorry we didn't have the chance to formally introduce ourselves yesterday, but you were very busy…”

An easy smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Dana Claiborne.” She offered a long, slender, perfectly manicured hand.

Patrick accepted her firm grip. “You caught me off guard. I thought you'd wait until later to make rounds.”

“I'm an early bird, Mr. Mitchell.”

H
e picked up on the challenge in her smile. “Does that make me the worm?” He laughed. “Please, call me Patrick.”

“I'm Dana. We should set up a meeting in my office.”

Her distinctive commanding attitude intrigued him.

“Make an appointment when it's convenient for both of us.”

“I'll do that.” There was anxiety in her gaze. First day jitters, maybe, or perhaps it was due to him working in the same unit. She could hit on him now for breaking the rules or wait until they were alone. “Guess I’d better take these flyers down to the cafeteria.”

She smiled. “Good idea.”

With his flyers in hand, he walked away from her with a determined stride, trying to appear unafraid she might snag him for breaking the contract. She could get him right now if she chose to. He wanted a contract without a hitch and as soon as possible.

“I’d appreciate it,” she called after him, “if in the future you’d clear your visits through my office.”

Patrick neared the elevators. He turned to face her. His gaze connected with hers. “I'm looking forward to sitting across the table from you. Looks like we might be playing a little hardball.” He grinned, then stepped into the elevator and the doors whooshed shut.

* * *

Relaxing at her desk, after a congenial luncheon with the doctors, Dana bobbed a tea bag in a mug of hot water. Her first impression of the medical staff had been positive, as their outward response seemed toward her.

Gil's magical word “administrator” popped into her mind. If the doctors thought for even a moment that she might one day be their boss, they might have treated her much differently. What started out as just another job, doing the same old thing had become her future. If only Michael could understand and share her enthusiasm.

The warm herbal tea soothed her tension. Her first day couldn't have gone better if she designed it herself, right down to her unexpected meeting with Patrick. The shocked look on his face made her surprise visit to the hospital on Sunday worth the extra effort. Ruta Morse from the day care center checked in twice already and informed Dana that Michael was fine.

The intercom at her elbow buzzed, startling her. She let it buzz a second time before pressing the button. “Yes.”

“Patrick Mitchell is here for his appointment.”

Without a doubt, she knew he intended to put her mettle to the test. What an unpredictable man. When she asked him to set up an appointment, she meant later in the week, even next week after she had a chance to settle in. This guy had an agenda. “All right, Maria. Send him in.
No other appointments today, please.”

Patrick breezed in, appearing confident, a friendly smile on his bronzed face. Wonder if he goes to a tanning salon, or picks up his color playing golf or tennis? A gray, worsted suit replaced the casual clothes he had worn that morning. He had dressed for business, and his clothes reinforced his already formidable aura. Everything he wore seemed designed to exude confidence, authority, and raw power. PNA knew what they were doing when they put him in the field.

“Welcome to Ashton,” he said.

“I was raised here, went away, and came back.”

“Then welcome home.”

“Thanks.” She paused. “You didn't waste much time making an appointment.”
He amused her, like he was a young boy sitting in front of a principal waiting for the ax to fall..

“Time is not on my side. May I sit?”

She gestured to the seat across from her desk.

Patrick unbuttoned his suit jacket, sat down in the chair, and leaned back. She sensed his gaze roaming over every inch of her body.
She folded her hands on her wide, uncluttered walnut desk. “Ann tells me that you've been ignoring the contract ever since Leon Benson left.”

“Like how?”

The quick edge in his voice sparked her tension. “Like meeting with employees on the floors during work time. You're supposed to use the cafeteria.” She made sure she maintained a lilt in her voice. Starting too threatening could defeat her purpose. To make their lives easier, she wanted to maintain a good relationship away from the negotiating table. “If I were pushed too far, I could file charges against you.”

“You wouldn't.”

She grinned, leaned back in her chair, and folded her hands in her lap. “Don't press your luck.”

They were sparring, a part of the job she liked. What he wants is to see how we’re going to work together, maybe even cut a few deals on the side, and put this contract to bed.

“Just doing my job, Dana. All Ann had to do was call security. I'd have hightailed it outta here like a jack rabbit in front of a double-barreled shotgun.” He chuckled. “Look, all I wanted was a chance to get to meet you more privately.”

She rose from her chair and ambled around to lean against the desk beside him. “So, why don't we start off by setting some ground rules we can both live with, without security or double-barreled shotguns.”

“Sounds reasonable. I hope you'll let me meet with the staff in their break rooms up on the floors.”

“According to your contract, you have access in the cafeteria.”

“That's not enough. Those restrictions don't fly. I can't do my job.” His speech pattern quickened. He leaned forward. “Coming from the Bay Area, you know what I'm talking about.”

She could tell by the way he moved in his seat he had become
tense. “I'm sure we'll spend time on that subject during negotiations.” Maybe Gil had been right when he said Patrick probably considered a woman a cakewalk. She shook her head and pressed her index finger against her upper lip. “Let’s not change anything until we meet at the table.” She eyed him carefully. “May we speak off the record?”

He rose from his seat. “Yes. That’s why I came to see you.” He had his right palm in the air. “I came here to get to know you, not start negotiating.”

She laughed. “Truce?” She held out her hand.

His large hand wrapped around hers and squeezed. He held on a moment too long. An involuntary tremor coursed through her. She slid her hand from his grasp and moved behind her desk.

“Where have you been hiding?”

“San Jose.
Borland Medical Center.”

“Heavy place.
Didn't like it?”

“I liked it a lot, but Gil Hargrove made me a better offer.”

“You can't go wrong here. Templeton's tops. I like Ashton too.” She could see his shoulders relax.

“You ride horses?” He asked out of the blue.

“Not since I was a kid.” To her surprise, he’d changed the conversation to casual. “What made you bring that up?”

He sat back down in his chair. “That's my hobby, my passion outside of work. This is supposed to be a get-to-know-you meeting.” He leaned forward, smiling. “When I was a kid, I had horses. Then after college, I moved to New York. The horses are in Central Park. The first thing I did when I came here was buy an Arabian mare. Guess I’ll have to sell her when I leave.”

A frown creased his forehead.He told her anecdotes about long-distance races he’d won and lost and outrageous tales of hospitals he'd won and lost. When he laughed, his face lit up with a warm glow that disarmed her. Was this the same man she’d heard so much about? The exceedingly charming man who sat across from her showed no signs of an arrogant, self-centered playboy. He appeared too cordial, she reminded herself that had to be part of his charm, part of the fascination he held for some of the women he attracted in this hospital. She picked up her mug and sipped her tea. “Want some?”

“No, thanks.
I’ve taken up enough of your time. You need to settle in.” He rose. “It's been nice.”

Because of Patrick, the usually tedious sessions might even build up a little steam.
He reached out in a farewell gesture. With caution, she took his hand. He let go in an instant.

“Even though you haven't told me much about yourself, I feel more comfortable.” He winked and with his fingers gave the Boy Scout code of honor. “I'll even follow your rules. Oh, God, it'll kill me, but for a beautiful lady, I'll do it.”

This guy had a sense of humor, and she liked it. “You work with me, and I'll work with you.”

“Deal.
Check ya later.”

In an instant, he was gone.

She walked to the window and glanced down. A chain of Modesto ash trees shaded the expanse of manicured lawn from the blistering sun. She pulled the sliding door open to the small terrace outside her office. A hot breeze splintered the chill of the air-conditioning. Starting a new life by herself struck her again. Since college, she’d had Joel, someone to fall back on during tough times. Now she had only Michael. Her decisions were hers and hers alone. All of a sudden, she felt at loose ends. With her arms wrapped across her breast, she wondered how it might feel to be held by a man again. She shuddered. How could she think such a thing? A man didn’t rate on her list of things to do. After a year, she hadn’t even fully gotten the hang of being alone yet. When she accomplished that, maybe she might-- Then she remembered her promise to Gil. She would not return to Palo Alto, nor would she leave the area. She was home.