Her heart was pounding at what felt like a thousand beats per minute.Her hand was shaking as her grip tightened down on her phone.A sick dread filled her stomach.She’d definitely lost her appetite.
“Mr.Gibson,” she said carefully.“I can explain everything—”
“I want you in here on Monday,” Gibson said.“We can discuss your candidate status for the new trauma center in detail then.I assure you, I have much to say.”
Her hand was shaking even more as she disconnected and put the phone back in her clutch purse.Her brain felt full of cotton, her thoughts sluggish and unfocused.She remembered being filmed.She remembered being caught up in the moment and shouting something.But that had been on her own personal time.How the hell had Gibson ever found that video?
Someone must have sent it to him.He’d mentioned a concerned colleague.Her competition for the position, maybe?He said it had gone viral.She didn’t watch many videos online, so she didn’t have much experience with what that meant exactly when it came to scope.But right now, Dr.Harvey Gibson’s threat was clear.It had endangered her candidacy, her dream chance to run the trauma center, and Gibson had never been her best cheerleader in the first place.
She walked back inside on legs that felt like stilts.Both men were waiting for her.As soon as they saw her, their faces changed to nearly identical expressions of concern.
“What’s wrong?”Dylan immediately asked when she reached them.
The hostess was waiting to seat them, watching them expectantly.
“I want to sit down,” Brooklyn said, her voice sounding cold and detached to her own ears.
Lucas slipped an arm around her waist and her two men escorted her to the table.She sagged into the chair as a server brought them drinks.
When they were alone again, Lucas looked at her sharply.“What happened, Brooklyn?”
“I got videoed driving Bubba,” she said.“That morning after we got stuck out in the desert.Remember?”
“Hell, yeah, I remember that,” Dylan said.“You were awesome.”
But Lucas seemed to see the problem faster than Dylan.His lips thinned into a tight line, and his expression darkened.“Who saw the video?”
“Dr.Harvey Gibson,” Brooklyn replied.
Lucas let out a long exhale of breath.
Dylan only looked confused.“A doctor saw it?So what?”
She turned to explain.“He’s the chief of staff at the hospital.He doesn’t really want me to head the new trauma center.He doesn’t think I liaise and fundraise effectively enough.I’m not a good glad-handing schmoozer, in other words.”
“So it’s hospital politics bullshit?”Dylan asked, still looking a bit lost.
“Maybe.He thinks I’ve…I don’t know.Shamed myself and embarrassed the hospital.”
Lucas put his arm around her.“You’re the best candidate to head up this trauma center.He’ll see reason.”
“What if he doesn’t?”she asked in a quiet voice.
Lucas’s dark eyes hardened.“He wants funding and donations for the trauma center, doesn’t he?Maybe he needs the right person todiscussthings with him.”
“Or I could wreck his car,” Dylan said, rubbing his chin.“What does he drive?I bet it’s a Beemer.”
Lucas snorted.“Don’t waste your time, Dylan.Believe me, money talks with administrators.They’re all the same.”
Brooklyn didn’t take her eyes off Lucas.She leaned forward, grabbing his hand.“Don’t.Don’t ever do that.This isn’t about me.The city needs the trauma center.I don’t want you holding out for me.I don’t want any special treatment.I must earn this, or I don’t deserve it.”
“I admire that,” Lucas said grimly.“But things don’t always work that way in real life.”
“Promise me you won’t interfere.”
He hesitated long enough for her to feel a spike of concern.
“Promise me.”
