Heart Like Mine (32 page)

“Go.” Delaney shooed her. “We have a lot to do today.”

“Fine. See if I go shopping with you again. That was a perfectly good negligee. Wasted, I tell you!” Megan shook her head as she opened Delaney's office door, then turned around and came back to the desk, leaning over to hug her.

“What's that for?”

“Just happy for you, that's all.” Megan hummed her way out of the room, and Delaney couldn't wipe her own silly smile from her face.

One minute later, her intercom buzzed.

“Delaney Blair speaking.” She clicked on a report, determined to get it finished by lunchtime.

“It's Gregory. I need to see you in my office. Immediately.”

She stopped clicking, eyes wide. What did
that
mean?

And why was his tone so dire?

 

Chapter 28

“What's the status of your proposal?” Gregory's voice assaulted her before she'd even sat down, and she noticed new lines of exhaustion around his eyes.

“It's going—well,” she blatantly lied. Despite a valiant effort, she had no cuts to suggest, no money to add to the equation, and the only thing she'd seemed to accomplish was to get some media coverage that hadn't led to one red cent pouring into the pediatric coffers.

Gregory pulled out a piece of paper and waved it her way. “This is your original proposal. Are we still going with this? Or has your research turned up anything else?”

Delaney felt a tinge of panic. “The original proposal needs to be shredded, Gregory. There's no way we can make those cuts.”

“Because?”

“Because the impact is huge. Way huger than I could have predicted.”

He put down the paper. “So what's your new proposal include?”

Delaney swallowed.
What, indeed?

“I'm still poring through some grant paperwork, but there's some potential there to bring in some funding. I reached out at the dinner the other night and made some contacts.…” Her voice faded as she realized Gregory wasn't going to buy her bullshit any more than she did.

She sighed. “We're sunk, Gregory. There's not one dollar that department can do without, and I haven't managed to find enough other funding sources to fill the gaps. This isn't a process that can happen in a few weeks' time.”

“Well, that time just got shorter. Board is meeting on Wednesday. They want to hear proposals, whether they're finalized or not.”

“Wednesday?
This
Wednesday? Two days from now Wednesday?” Delaney gripped the arms of Gregory's guest chair, her knuckles going white.

“Wednesday.”

“What—what am I going to say? They're not going to want to hear that my conclusion is
not
to cut this budget.”

“No. They're not.”

“But I have no other option. I can't in good conscience recommend that they take dollars away from this department.”

Gregory picked her list back up. “You could always go in with this. Step back from it later. But this at least makes it look like you've done some due diligence. If you go in with nothing, there's gonna be hell to pay.”

“If I go in with that, they'll approve it before I can even make my arguments that it was my preliminary and underresearched proposal, which I've now abandoned. No, I can't even put that thing in front of them.” She shook her head. “No.”

He sat back, crossing his arms, going for a casual pose, but Delaney'd known him just long enough to see one foot tapping on the floor under his desk.

“There's something else we should probably talk about.”

“Oh?” Her stomach zinged in alarm.

“Is there any chance anyone could make an accusation of undue influence here?”

She cocked her head. “What?”

“I had a call from a member of the board. She had received information that you were possibly involved personally with Joshua Mackenzie. She thought it would be prudent for the board to be aware of whether that was indeed true, before they voted on any proposals that might come in front of them this week. Her words.”

“What? From who? How?
What?
” Delaney's baby grasshoppers returned with a vengeance, making her hold her stomach.

He sighed, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his desk. “Delaney, I know Joshua. He's a good man. He's an excellent doctor. But if you've let yourself get involved with him, you need to think about the possible ramifications.”

“Which are?” She crossed her arms. “Not that I'm saying I have.”

“You could lose your job, Delaney. So could he. An internal investigation would most certainly be launched, and either or both of you could end up with any number of consequences, the worst of which being dismissal. I'm not saying it
would
happen. I'm saying it
could
happen.”

“I'm not—we're not … involved. Personally.” Delaney closed her eyes, hating the words as they came out of her mouth, hating that she was abjectly lying to a man she had the utmost respect for.

“I'm not asking you. But they're going to.” He shuffled papers and pointed to the door, effectively dismissing her. “I'd recommend practicing your answer, because the one you just gave me isn't going to convince a soul.”

*   *   *

Later that night, Delaney picked up her pace as she crested the killer hill three miles into her normal circuit. Any other day, she'd stop right here, put her hands on her knees to try to lower her heart rate, and take a nice long drink of water. Today, though, she ran right by her usual stopping spot, didn't drink a drop, and couldn't care less about her heart rate.

Gregory's words had been knocking around in her brain all day, and combined with the freak-out she'd already worked herself into since leaving Joshua's house last night, she was one short step away from a nervous breakdown.

She'd done the
what were you thinking?
exercise till she was blue in the face this afternoon, but besides coming up with a hundred reasons why
anyone
would have found Joshua hard to resist, she wasn't getting anywhere helpful.

She'd promised herself long ago that she'd never get involved with a man who would never, ever be able to put his job in second place. She'd lived that life, she'd seen her parents' marriage disintegrate, and she'd watched hordes of
other
wives head down the same lonely path. It wasn't going to be her life, dammit.
She
would come first, hell or high water. And if that wasn't going to be the case, then she was outta there.

Right.

Decisions like that were so much easier in the hypothetical. Decisions like that didn't take into account a pair of eyes that could melt you with one glance, or a pair of hands that could fire you up with one touch. They didn't take into account the way a certain man's laughter touched you way down deep, or the way the sight of him made you feel like everything—
everything
—was just … better.

And who
wouldn't
fall for Dr. Joshua Mackenzie? It wasn't her fault, dammit. He was sweet, funny, and sexy as hell. To his patients, he was dedicated, selfless, and gentle. The man spent his every waking hour taking care of other people—what flaw could she possibly find in that?

None … except when she thought ahead. She knew the end play on this already. The thing she most admired about Joshua was his dedication to his patients. The thing that would kill their relationship in the end—not that she was getting ahead of herself or anything after just two nights with the man—would be his dedication to his patients. Work-life balance was a myth, a workshop they all went to once a year … but it wasn't reality. Even if he'd
wanted
to change the balance, he was a doctor in an understaffed little hospital. Balance was a joke.

However, it was the life he'd wanted since high school. Ever since little Avery had come into his friends' lives and changed them all forever, he'd chosen this path in hopes that other kids might have it easier … in hopes that he could help others come out on the other side, unlike her. His parents had sacrificed
everything
for him, and every day, he was powered by the memory not only of Avery, but also of his parents putting off their new windows, fresh paint, and retirement so that he could live his dreams.

She knew all this. He'd told her.

But she hadn't realized how much it would hurt to realize that all of those things that made her admire him … might stand in the way of her being able to love him like she already feared she could—and would—do.

Because where would she fit in? She wasn't going to be the one blowing out candles on a cold supper table. She wasn't going to be the one reaching out at night to feel nothing but empty sheets. She wasn't going to be the one trying to explain to their someday-children that Daddy was busy again … always.

Not that she was getting ahead of herself … again.

She reached the footbridge where she usually stopped to watch the beavers in Stillwater Pond, but didn't halt. A pulsating, nervous energy was powering her forward, and even if she'd wanted to, it felt like she couldn't stop.

When Gregory had pulled her into his office this morning, he'd added another whole layer of hell onto the whole thing. Good God, how had she let Saturday happen, knowing it could have professional implications for them both? She
knew
it could, and yet she'd said yes, had gotten into his car … had gotten into his bed.

And now she was looking down the barrel of a hospital board that might or might not question her about her professional relationships. In one fell swoop, she'd risked her career,
his
career, and the entire pediatric floor.

She'd analyzed all of the angles all afternoon, and by seven o'clock, when she'd donned her running gear and headed out on a desperately overdue run, none of those angles had been remotely appealing. At best, she'd be disciplined. She'd most certainly have the pediatric budget yanked away, which meant it would land squarely in Kevin's lap. That was the
best
-case scenario, and it sucked.

At worst, she actually could be dismissed. The HR policy was pretty clear on that one. No matter what, if there was concrete suspicion of a personal relationship, an investigation
would
happen. And no matter what came out of it, both of their reputations would suffer long-term consequences. That investigation would stay in their files, and any future career move within the hospital could be influenced by the findings.

In essence, it meant that Delaney would never be CFO of Mercy Hospital. It was the position she'd been working toward for five years now, but her actions over one twenty-four-hour period could now derail all of that work. The fact that she'd let herself become involved with someone would not only color this pediatric proposal—it would color every proposal she'd done prior to it … or any she completed in the future. She'd enjoyed a stellar, beyond-reproach rep until now, but it could all go up in a puff of smoke.

She'd known this on Friday. And yet she'd said yes.

Like she was powerless to say no.

And what did that say about her integrity, really? Could she honestly go before the board on Wednesday and be sure she
wasn't
unduly influenced? People looked to her on a daily basis to be analytical, forthright, and objective—to put together recommendations for the hospital's finances based on impartial, analytical, honest research. If even
she
didn't trust her own integrity, how could she expect anyone else to?

It would be like the reporter who did years of killer reporting, but then fabricated one story. In one fell swoop, persona non grata forever. Everything about the reporter's previous stories would come under the microscope, and trust going forward would be fragmented, if not destroyed completely.

She'd worked so damn hard, and it could come to … this.

But God, she wanted him. She did. She couldn't help herself. She'd never felt like this before, like already he owned a piece of her heart … and she didn't want it back.

Every single one of her internal alarms clanged as she ran down the final hill before the spot where she always met Meg. She was heading into white-water territory if she let this fledgling relationship get wings, and as zingy and warm and amazing as the weekend with Joshua had been, that weekend wasn't reality. It was a little slice of heaven that would turn into a faded memory before long, as reality intruded.

And if she let herself get any further involved, extracting was just going to be worse. For both of their sakes, she needed to stop things in their tracks. For so many reasons, it was the right thing to do.

She stopped, panting, realizing as her throat caught on a sob that the wetness on her cheeks wasn't sweat. It was tears.

 

Chapter 29

“Okay, I'm sitting.” Joshua tipped his head curiously as Delaney closed her office door on Tuesday night. “Why so serious?”

She walked around to sit at her desk, taking a deep, careful breath as she did so. She'd been avoiding Joshua for two days now, but the board meeting was in twelve hours, and she couldn't wait any longer to have this conversation.

“We need to talk,” she finally said.

He froze. “About?”

“About the weekend.”

“Okay.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Any chance you could ease off the death-knell voice while we do so?”

“Joshua…” She took a deep breath, trying not to let her shakiness show. “It was a mistake.”

His eyes widened for a brief second, and then she saw his eyebrows furrow. “A mistake.”

She nodded. “I think … we both know that.”

“No.” He shook his head firmly. “We don't both know that. What the hell, Delaney?”