Heart Like Mine (2 page)

Megan stirred her drink idly, chin in her hands as she peered at Delaney. “You know, this assignment isn't
all
bad.”

“
How
is it not all bad?”

“With Dr. Kendrick on sabbatical, you'll be working with the interim head of pediatrics, Josh Mackenzie.”

“Okay?” Delaney shrugged, eyebrows up. She'd never met the man, but she'd definitely met the type—overworked, over-meetinged, and definitely overly
un
fond of financial officers.

“Have you ever
met
Josh Mackenzie?”

“No. He's managed to skip every meeting he's been invited to since I took over the pediatrics budget.” To Delaney, the name was nothing more than a signature on paperwork.

“You know, I've said this, like, a thousand times before, but it'd be good to step out of the executive suite once in a while and meet the actual humans who work at Mercy Hospital.”

“I—meet plenty of them.” Delaney felt her eyebrows pull together. She didn't have time to hang out in the hospital cafeteria or at the proverbial water cooler.

“I know. You're shy. You're busy. You don't have time for silly socializing.”

“Well, I sure don't now. I showed you Gregory's numbers. We are doomed.”

Megan sipped her margarita, which was melting quickly, sending beads of water down the stem of her glass. Delaney was so tired she caught herself watching one of them slither down, down, down until it hit Megan's napkin.

Megan snapped her fingers in front of Delaney's face. “So … any ideas for how you're going to approach this project? Because I'm pretty sure people might have to be involved. Possibly many of them.”

“Very funny.” Delaney tried to spear a piece of ice with her straw. “I started a list of target areas to look at. I have a plan. There has to be something we can cut without risking patient safety, right?”

Delaney's brain had been whirling since her meeting with Gregory. She'd made lists upon lists all afternoon, and her eyes were glazed over from examining five years of budget sheets.

“Okay, lay it on me. What's the plan?”

“I'm going to start by scheduling a meeting with Dr. Mackenzie. Tomorrow morning.”

Megan nodded, eyebrows drawn together. “What are you going to say? What's the approach?”

Delaney squared her shoulders, a move she seemed to have done more in the past eight hours than in the past month. “I'm going to introduce myself, tell him I'm doing a periodic review of department budgets, and ask if he has any initial ideas for areas where we could trim.”

“Well, that should go well.”

Delaney frowned. “I know.”

“Might be better to just be straight with him, don't you think?”

“Not if I want a second meeting.”

“Good point.” Megan tipped her head thoughtfully. “I have an idea.”

“I'm all ears.”

Megan pointed her straw at Delaney's chest. “Maybe just undo a button or two? For the meeting?”

“
What?
This is you being helpful?”

“I'm just saying. You're on the losing team here before you start. He is
not
going to be happy to see you. And he is
not
going to be cooperative. Guaranteed.”

“You are ridiculous.” Delaney's hand flew to her blouse. “I will
not
use my—”

“Come on.” Megan winked. “Age-old techniques work for a reason, you know. He's young, he's single…”

“Seriously, Meg.”

“Fine. Want some
real
advice from someone who deals with normal humans all day, instead of numbers?”

“Trying not to be offended here. If it matters.”

Megan laughed. “You have to get on his good side—get his trust. Do that before you get to the part about slicing his budget all to shreds.”

“Of course. Obviously.” Delaney cleared her throat. “Um, any ideas for how I would … do that? The trust part?”

Megan put a chip in her mouth, smiling. “Undo a damn button.”

 

Chapter 2

“Ha, doc. Found you.”

Josh jumped, blinking as he checked his phone.
Shit.
Last time he'd looked at it, it had been Monday. Now it was seven o'clock on Tuesday morning, he'd been rocking little Kaya for half the night, and his back was screaming from sitting in this wooden rocking chair for so long.

And now Millie, the pediatric head nurse, had arrived for the day. He sighed. She was old enough to be his mother, and anybody who thought anyone
but
her ran this floor was delusional. He might have the interim title, but Millie Swan was most definitely head boss around here.

He ran a tired hand over his face, which was desperate for a razor. “I wasn't hiding.”

“How is she?” Millie nodded at four-year-old Kaya.

“Rough night.”

Millie's eyebrows arched. “Have you been sitting up with this child all night?”

“Not—
all
night.” He winced as he lied, but she'd have a fit if she knew he hadn't actually slept more than in fits and starts since—Sunday, was it?

“Josh, your candle's only got two ends, and you're burning up both of them.”

He looked down, cradling Kaya's head as she moaned in her sleep. He lowered his voice to a whisper.

“What was I supposed to do, Millie? Leave her alone? You and I both know we don't have enough nurses to cover on the best of nights. And last night was definitely
not
the best of nights. I'm sure you've heard that by now.”

“I know.” Millie's voice softened as she brushed blond wisps of hair from Kaya's face. “I just wish her parents could be here with her. Poor thing spends way too much time alone.”

He nodded toward the hallway.

“How are things shaping up out there?”

“Well, we've still got a full floor, and today's bonus feature is four new residents who just graduated at the bottoms of their classes.”

Josh laughed quietly. “Not nice.”

“Well, they're standing around looking useless. How am I supposed to tell?”

“Millie, it's their first week on the floor. They
are
useless. Happens every July.”

“Well, I liked the old ones. We don't have time to train fresh meat this week. The floor is full to busting.”

“Then they'll get maximum exposure, right from day one. It's a resident's dream.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. “It's a head nurse's nightmare. My nurses are about to stick them all in the utility closet.”

Josh shook his head, smiling. Millie'd seen new residents come through every July for thirty-plus years. She knew damn well how the system worked, and by the end of their tenure, Mercy's pediatric residents were always the best in the business. She was grumbly about them for the first week, until they learned who was boss.

Which was her.

“We'll figure it out, Millie. We always do.”

“Okay.” She looked somewhat appeased, but he knew from experience that it was likely to last all of three-point-five seconds. “Oh—Therese just delivered a hot coffee to your desk. Just saying.”

“You're just trying to lure me back down the hallway.”

“It's possible, but in my defense, you know I'd let you hide in the on-call room if I could spare you for a few hours.”

“I know.” He yawned inadvertently.

“Here.” Millie leaned down, reaching for Kaya. “Give me this child, and you go drink that coffee.
Then
maybe I'll let you near the patients. No zombie docs walking the halls on my watch.”

He handed Kaya gently to her, trying not to jostle the little girl awake, then leaned back in the chair to stretch.

“Oh. One more thing.” Millie turned back from the doorway. “Therese just took an interesting call for you. Somebody from finance.”

Josh felt his eyes widen. Calls from finance were never good news. “What about?”

“No idea.” She shrugged. “You know Therese. She'll want to tell you herself.”

As Millie headed down the hallway, Josh smiled, despite a sudden edginess. Oh, he knew Therese, all right. She was the ward secretary, which meant she had her pulse on every phone call and document that passed through the floor. She maintained the schedules, she decided which patients got which rooms, and she decided which staff members got to eat lunch—and when. Her level of control over pediatrics was monumental, but Josh had learned quickly that though she was as tough as nails on the outside, she had a heart of gold.

That's why she had fresh flowers on her desk every Monday morning, courtesy of an autodelivery he'd set up his first month at Mercy. He had her birthday on his calendar, and he made sure his friend Josie helped him pick out just the right present for any occasion that required gift giving.

And
that
is why he generally got to eat lunch … sometimes.

He took a deep breath, pushing out of the rocking chair. He paused in the doorway, sighing as he looked toward the nurses' station. The hallway was an absolute anthill of ordered yet frenzied activity, and he wasn't at all sure he was ready to deal with the day.

But he had to. They were already short on doctors, short on nurses … short on everything.

Yes, it looked like Tuesday was shaping up to be a no-lunch day.

The finance office would have to wait.

*   *   *

Six hours later, Josh was walking by the nurses' station on his way to a patient room when Therese leaned over the counter and waved him down. “Dr. Mackenzie, when you have a second, I need to go over some things with you.”

He looked at his watch as he stopped and turned back.
Christ
—how had it turned into afternoon already? His stomach growled, and he realized he hadn't eaten since inhaling a bowl of microwaved oatmeal in the break room at seven thirty this morning.

“I'll make a deal with you, Therese. If you can score me a sandwich, I'll be your slave.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Already got me a slave at home. I just need some signatures right now.”

She handed a signature pad across the counter, turning her computer screen so he could see what he was signing off on. As he clicked through orders for therapies and meds, she shuffled some message slips. All hospital messaging was computerized these days, but since Josh never had time to actually sit down in his office, they'd resorted to the old-fashioned pink-slip method as a backup.

“Want the rundown?” She held the stack up, fanning them out like playing cards.

“Lay 'em on me.”

“Dr. Peterson needs a callback on Ian. Radiology results are in on the little guy in Room 4, and Sasha's got a spinal tap scheduled tomorrow.”

Josh cringed. “She's not going to be happy about that. Can you make sure one of the child life specialists is on hand for her?”

“Already put her on the schedule.”

“Thank you.” He handed the signature pad back to her. “So, no on the sandwich?”

“Sorry. You're on your own. Already got you coffee today.”

He smiled, turning toward his office. Before he hit another patient room, he needed something in his stomach. Maybe he had a package of peanut butter crackers stowed in a desk drawer or something.

However, before he'd taken three steps, Therese's voice stopped him. “Oh, one more message. Delaney Blair from finance wants a meeting.”

Josh felt his eyebrows furrow. He knew the name, but couldn't place the face. This must be the call Millie had told him about this morning.

“What does she want?”

“She wouldn't say.”

He took the pink slip with Delaney's office extension on it. “I'll give her a ring later.”

“She's called twice already today. Sounds like it might be important.”

He sighed as he headed back to his office and closed the door. He looked at the chair behind his desk, tempted to try to snatch a five-minute catnap. Then he glanced through the window out to the hallway, and discarded the thought.

They had kids on chemo, kids with isolation infections, and kids whose home-care regimens weren't up to snuff anymore. There were kids with mito disorders, digestive disorders, and anorexia … kids with surgery tomorrow, surgery yesterday, surgery this morning.

Nurses buzzed around, doing their level best to keep the chaos under control, but as he watched through the window, he knew he had to find a way to get more staff on board.

Maybe that's what this Delaney Blair wanted to talk about—giving him more staff.

Right.

He looked at the slip in his hand, then wrinkled it up and tossed it toward the wastebasket. He didn't have time to go up to the executive floor and hear some song and dance about doing more with less, or new directions, or supporting the hospital's mission.

Yes, if someone from the hallowed halls of finance wanted to talk, it couldn't be good. He sighed as he looked out at the busy hallway, then back at a desk piled with paperwork he'd never get to.

If Delaney Blair wanted a meeting, then she could come find
him
.

*   *   *

“You're just going to have to go down there, Delaney.” Megan propped a hip on Delaney's desk two days later. Delaney envied her assistant's long skirt, gypsy earrings, and long, loose cotton blouse. In college, she'd have topped it off with a head scarf and combat boots, but for the workplace, she'd gone with her standard-issue leather sandals.

Delaney looked down at her own outfit and wondered when she'd turned into a toned-down version of her country club mother. Her neatly ironed blouse was set off by a perfectly matched skirt and jacket, and as she fingered the pearls at her throat, she sighed. Then she let her eyes coast down her calves, down to the Jimmy Choos she'd bought just last month. It was her splurge, her bow to girliness and inappropriate spending, and damn, she loved these shoes.