The Hardest Hit (13 page)

Chelsea downed her favorite smoothie for lunch, then made a quick change into business attire and walked into the board room at MediPharma at exactly three o'clock. She glanced around the wooden rectangular table and took in all of the different faces, each one of them male. The other board members looked like a carbon copy of her father. Late fifties to early sixties, graying hair, expertly dressed and groomed. When she ran in this kind of circle, what did she expect? She quickly noticed she was there as the diversity element. The token woman. Great.

“Dr. Fox, please come in,” a tall man welcomed her. He had gray thinning hair, and sported a very expensive navy blue suit, complete with cuff links and tie clip.

She walked toward him and stuck out her hand.

“I'm Dr. Reginald Delaney, head of the board of directors at MediPharma. Your father and I golf together. He's told me so much about you that I feel like I know you already.”

“Thank you for the warm welcome.”

“Please sit.” He gestured to a chair. “Everyone, I'd like to welcome our newest member of the board, Dr. Chelsea Fox.”

All eyes in the room turned toward her. She smiled. A wave of nausea ran through her. She had no idea what she was doing here. In fact, she'd spent so much time in the trenches of medicine she didn't know exactly what members of a board of directors did, other than play golf and pat themselves on the back. Good thing she'd Googled her responsibilities on her way over.

Dr. Delaney went around the table and introduced each person to Chelsea. She started to sweat; thirteen more names, and titles, and doctor of this or that, to remember. Her head, already on overload, started to pound. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be at the doctor with Trevor. She gave the men at the table a polite smile, but her heart and her mind were elsewhere.

Her mind circled back to him, always him, and she wondered if he'd had to wait long in the reception area, or if his new doctor was going to schedule another CT scan. She hoped he'd remembered to bring his medical records and past scans she'd requested back from Dr. Evans's office. Worrying about Trevor now was too little too late, she knew. She'd let him down by not making today's appointment, and a heaviness crept through her chest.

Still if she wanted to keep her clinic and everything else afloat, she needed to do her duty to the board and fulfill the commitment she'd made to her father.

Dr. Delaney called attention. “Today's topic of discussion is around the acquisition of the generic-brand drug maker Costcon. MediPharma's CEO”—he pointed the man out for Chelsea—“would like us to debate the issue, and hear the pros and cons of the purchase of a company so geared to serving the cost-conscious consumer.”

Chelsea's mind blanked. She didn't care about any of this. There were patients at Sunrise she needed to see, and appointments that could be scheduled at her clinic, but instead she was here debating whether one fat cat should buy another?

Dr. Delaney turned to her. “Nothing like baptism by fire, Dr. Fox, so give us your opinions.”

Who gives a shit?
That was the first thing that popped into her head, but that wouldn't go over well.

“I believe we need to look at the mission statement of MediPharma and Costcon to start. If memory serves, MediPharma is a for-profit drug company. Costcon is geared to serving those who need medicines but may not be able to afford them.” She swallowed hard. “The two philosophies of the companies are polarizing at best. And, if MediPharma is successful in its acquisition I can only imagine a culture shift for those at Costcon, resulting in high employee turnover, be it terminations or resignations. To that end, the acquisition may be more costly to MediPharma than it initially realizes.”

The men around the table looked at one another. She swore if she was a mind reader the guy to her left gave her an
isn't she cute
stare.

“So, you'd not recommend the acquisition?” Dr. Delaney asked.

“That's correct,” she said.

“My dear.” Dr. Delaney laughed, “We can tell you're new at this, so don't be nervous and don't hold back your opinions. I don't. In my experience, acquisitions are always a good thing.”

She lifted her hand and pinched the bridge of her nose. Give her opinions or not, did it matter in the great scheme of things? She'd spent enough time around her father to know that men who ran companies like MediPharma did what they wanted.

In an instant, the debate turned in a different direction. Dr. Delaney argued that a move for MediPharma to buy Costcon would be a positive for the generic drug maker. Selling medicines at such deep discounts prevented Costcon from turning a reliable profit and investing in drug research.

“But that's why they do what they do,” Chelsea argued. “Costcon isn't investing in research because giants like MediPharma can. Their specialty is taking medicines that are available and on the market today and making them affordable for everyone. If MediPharma changes the way they do business, where does that leave the poor who are sick?”

Laughter erupted from around the table. Then she caught on. The rich white fat cats didn't care what happened to the underprivileged as long as their pockets were lined with green. She knew she owed it to her father to last longer than a day on the board, but she didn't see how she was going to do it. They glared at her as if she was specifically appointed to be there so they could show that they had a representative from the Bleeding Heart Club in attendance.

Her blood started to boil. She was wasting her time. No one cared about the little guy—not her father, not the board of directors at MediPharma.

As the men ran down talking points designed around the advantages of taking the generic maker and hacking it into pieces to turn a profit, Chelsea's mind strayed back to Trevor.

Forty-five minutes had passed, and she guessed he was either still in his appointment with Dr. Foster or finishing it up. She hoped her phone would ring. Not only did she want an update as soon as possible on his prognosis, but she'd welcome any excuse to leave the room.

Fifteen minutes later, the meeting wrapped. Chelsea rose from her chair, and shook hands with all of the other board members. Inside she cringed every time one of them said things like, “good meeting,” or “nice feedback, kid.” She wondered if there was a timeline on board appointments. What would be the right thing to do? Give them a year's worth of meeting time, then bow out gracefully?

She approached Dr. Delaney. “Thank you for running such an informative meeting today.”

They shook again. “Your father said you we're beautiful, but it seems that you're pretty sharp, too. We're lucky to have such a talented woman join us.”

She flashed a fake smile at the insult. Didn't he know a woman can have beauty and brains in one package?

“May I ask you something, Dr. Delaney?” she asked.

“Of course.” He shoved both hands in his pockets.

“I understand today's meeting was about the pros and cons of the acquisition, but I can't help but feel that the decision to purchase Costcon was already made before the meeting started. Was there something I missed?”

Dr. Delaney flashed a condescending smile. “When I was young like you I wanted to save the world. I worked sixty hours a week, and donated my time and my talents whenever an organization needed my help, and do you know what?”

Chelsea shook her head.

“All it made me was tired. Tired of medicine. Tired of people who didn't follow instructions, tired of healthcare in general.”

Trying to follow the conversation her brows knitted together as he continued, “I lost sleep, patients, and a helluva lot of money trying to save the world. Your father sees you doing the same thing. You can't save the world because the world is beyond saving.”

She let out a breath. “I don't believe that.”

“Of course you don't, that's why you're here. What you think you missed is what you haven't learned yet, but you will. With all of the new laws, higher insurance premiums and skyrocketing malpractice claims, being a doctor doesn't pay. So, all of us around the table have to find ways to make the profession lucrative for us.”

Then, a realization slammed down on her harder than one of Trevor's punches to the heavy bag. “You own part of Costcon, don't you?”

His smile broadened. Of course he did. If she we're a betting woman, she'd put money down that others around the boardroom owned a slice of Costcon, too. They sell their shares of Costcon to MediPharma and turn a lucrative profit. No one in that room cared about Costcon's product, its customers, or the company's employees. All they wanted was money, pure and simple.

“Thank you for a most informative day, Dr. Delaney.” And with that she walked out of the boardroom and didn't look back.

Trevor left the doctor's office and drove back to Stamina. He promised Domenic they'd train that evening since Chelsea couldn't commit to dinner at his house. She told him she didn't know how long the board meeting would last, and she still needed to make her rounds at Sunrise.

He walked into the gym and the place hummed with energy. Mike Perez was leading one of his youth classes on one side of the gym, which cramped up Trevor and Domenic's training space, but they'd make do.

“How'd it go?” Daniella asked the second he walked through the door.

“Not too bad. I'm still on the same light duty and rest schedule, but the new doctor did order some physical therapy. I start tomorrow.” He shrugged. “We'll see how it goes. The doctor said some of the exercises are two-person to help with focusing, so I'm going to ask Chelsea if she can meet me there.”

“Come on into my office.” His manager gestured toward her tiny space.

Once inside, she closed the door and sat behind her desk. Then, she nodded as if she wanted Trevor to sit down.

He did.

“Care to have a chat?” she asked.

One of the things he loved most about his manager was how much she cared about each of her boxers. Daniella Chambers didn't get in the middle of things, she wasn't nosy, and never liked drama, but she delved into the details of all of her boxer's lives because she cared. The family atmosphere she'd created within Stamina was no joke. If one of her guys needed something, she'd go to great lengths to make sure he got it. She knew, as he did, that Trevor had always needed someone like Chelsea in his life.

“Not to pry, Trevor, but how are you and Chelsea doing?” Daniella asked.

“Good,” he replied. “I don't get to see her as much as I used to before the clinic opened. She's really pulled in a lot of different directions these days.”

Daniella nodded. “And how does that make you feel?”

He was aware of Daniella's training in sports psychology, but he'd never been on the receiving end of her therapy. A tiny twinge in his gut told him that was changing.

He shrugged. “I don't know. I mean, she always wanted the clinic. She likes helping people.”

Daniella scowled. “You keep telling me about her. I want you to tell me about you.”

A nervous grin sprouted on his face. He searched his mind for something funny to say, but with the weight of his trainer's stare on him he knew he couldn't get out of this one with a quick one-liner.

Air left his lungs in a rush. “Sometimes I feel as though she's left me behind. The stupid thing is, I never cared about stuff like that before. With other girls, it didn't matter if I called them or they called me.”

Daniella's face took on a look of concern. “Well, Chelsea isn't like other girls. She means something to you.”

He sat back in his chair, crossing on leg of the other in a
T
. “Sure she does. She means everything.”

“And it hurts you because she isn't making you feel like a priority. You had her attention when you were her patient, but feelings of negligence are setting in now that you're not.” Daniella propped an elbow on her desk. “You have feelings for her, Trevor, big ones. Everyone here can see it. And I think it's time for you to tell her how you feel.”

His head bobbed from side to side as he considered Daniella's words. He could tell Chelsea he loved her, but what would that do other than put more pressure on her? She didn't need that. He could give her space and pull back to allow her some room to get her feet firmly planted underneath her and see where he fit in. He pursed his lips together. That sounded like a sucky idea, too.

“Maybe,” he said. “I just don't want to stress her out any more.”

Daniella gave a nod of understanding. “Well, you know your situation best. If you need me, for anything, please know I'm always here for you.”

“Thanks,” he said, “I appreciate the offer.” Trevor always felt better after talking to Daniella. He rose up from the chair just as his cell phone rang. He read Chelsea's name on the display. “It's her. Perfect timing.” And he stepped out of Daniella's office to take the call.

“Hey, baby,” he said, after he pushed the button to answer, “How'd it go?”

He noted the hesitation before her response. “It was what I guess I should've expected. I'm driving to Sunrise for rounds, but I wanted to call you to see how the appointment went.”

“It was okay. They scheduled some physical therapy for me tomorrow. I really would like you to be there,” he told her. “I had them book the last appointment for the day. Maybe we can grab some dinner afterward. Do you think you can make it?”

“Of course. I wouldn't miss it.” In a beat her voice and her mood sounded instantly lighter.

“Great, baby, I can't wait.” His insides warmed. They had a plan, and maybe at dinner he'd tell her just how strong his feelings for her were.

“I might lose you. I'm pulling into the parking garage at Sunrise now.” She told him.

“No problem, babe. Call me later.” He knew by the pinch in his cheeks he was wearing that stupid grin he always did when he talked to her.

With a quick good-bye, they disconnected.

Then a better idea struck him. After physical therapy, he wasn't going to waste time with Chelsea at a restaurant, not when he could cook a delicious meal for her himself. In fact, he had the time, so he could do the evening up right: a great meal, a little bit of wine, flowers, the works. The idea stirred his libido.

Her work schedule had put a nice dent in their private time, and he wanted to make love to her more than anything else. Yes. This was the best thought ever. Tomorrow night would be the night to get them back on track. He'd finally get the chance—not to
tell
her how he felt, as Daniella had suggested, but to
show
her. And, when it came down to it his actions would mean more to Chelsea than any words he could muster.

The more he plotted, the more ideas grew. After working out with Domenic he'd stop by the store and pick up some candles. The roses he'd get tomorrow. He wanted them as fresh as possible, and the biggest, reddest ones he could find. He'd stay up all night if he had to mixing music on his iPod for the perfect playlist. What girl could resist Barry White?

He walked across the floor to Domenic and greeted his friend. “Okay, man, you ready to work out?” he asked him.

Domenic nodded in the affirmative.

“Good.” Trevor said. “Because after this I've got a lot of work of my own to do.”