Читать книгу Tessa's Gift - Cerella Sechrist - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

CHESAPEAKE VIEW’S ONCOLOGY ward was actually a bright, welcoming place. The walls were painted a buttery yellow, and butterflies with vibrant wings in jeweled tones of red, green, blue and orange were stenciled onto the walls. As Tessa stepped off the elevator, she faced the reception desk, made of blond wood and accented by the teal counter. The lights were housed in globes of pastel colors, emitting a soft, radiant glow. There was a waiting area with blue overstuffed chairs and sofas, along with a large, flat-screen TV running an endless loop of cartoons. A glass mosaic dominated one wall depicting a garden with butterflies amid the flowers.

Though the environment was cheery, Tessa prepared herself for a fight. She’d been warned that Dr. Noah Brennan could be difficult, but if she was going to do her job well, she’d need him on her side.

Tessa took her new job seriously. Her position as a marketing and PR coordinator was a newly created role, and her contract was only for a year. The hospital’s board of directors was looking to raise funds and boost awareness of their programs, specifically in the pediatric oncology unit. If she was able to leverage Dr. Brennan’s reputation and accolades to bring more attention to the hospital, the board had hinted her contract would be extended.

And she desperately wanted this job to continue. While she’d enjoyed working at the animal clinic, her small salary there hadn’t been enough to pay for the upkeep of her grandmother’s cottage.

Plus, this job was a blessing, allowing her to keep her hand in pediatrics, which had once been her passion, without requiring her to work directly with patients. She missed the daily interaction with children she’d had as a pediatric nurse, but her heart ached too much now to be around them day in and day out.

She adored kids. She always had. Becoming a mother was something she’d looked forward to her entire life, or at least until a couple of years ago. Since then, she’d made a concerted effort to avoid children. Now, she only prayed she could excel at this job so she could find her way past the heartache of the last two years.

She checked the time on her phone and nibbled at her lip in worry. Her boss was nowhere in sight. She had been scheduled to meet Ana Morales here fifteen minutes ago. The episode at the coffee shop that morning had cost her time, though, and she was running late. While Ana was a fairly flexible person, Tessa knew that arriving late, especially when she was finally going to meet the hospital’s most prestigious doctor, wasn’t the way to keep this job.

Fearing maybe Ana had come and gone without her, Tessa moved toward the nurses’ station to see if Ana was hopefully running behind herself. She was relieved when she spotted Miranda, one of the nurses. Miranda confirmed that Ana was already there and waiting for her in Dr. Brennan’s office. She pointed the way down the hall, and Tessa set off at a brisk pace, hoping she hadn’t missed anything too important. As she walked, she remembered her conversation the week before, when Ana had described the hospital’s chief pediatric oncologist.

“Noah is one of the best in the country, if not the world,” Ana had said. “He’s brilliant when it comes to treating childhood cancers. He came on board six months ago. He was looking for a— Well, a change of scenery, I suppose you could say.”

Tessa remembered sensing there was something Ana wasn’t telling her about Dr. Brennan, but Ana had continued speaking before she could ask any questions.

“We’ve tracked the success of other hospitals’ PR campaigns, and using someone gifted and well-known as the face of the campaign has yielded tremendous results. We are hoping to replicate that kind of success here. That’s where you come in.”

Tessa had read between the lines; whether she kept her job or not rested on the success of this venture with Dr. Brennan.

And now she was finally going to meet the man. She reached the door with Dr. Brennan’s name on it and swallowed, feeling a wave of nerves as she prepared to meet the doctor she’d be working closely with in the months to come.

She tapped on the door and waited until she heard a muffled call for admittance. Pushing it open, she stepped inside, her gaze first falling on Ana. She smiled a greeting at her boss.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Ana, but I got tied up—” As she was speaking, her gaze automatically shifted to the man standing on the other side of the desk. She drew up short as she recognized him.

It appeared the man from the coffee shop wasn’t a CIA agent at all.

He was a doctor.

* * *

NOAH BLINKED IN surprise at the woman who had just stepped into his office. She looked equally stunned.

“Noah, this is—”

“Tessa Worth,” he interrupted Ana and then immediately winced. Tessa would probably think it strange that he had noted her name on the scrap of paper she’d given him.

“Oh, good, you two have met already,” Ana said. “Well done, Tessa, on diving right in.”

His eyes were locked on the woman standing just inside the doorway, and he couldn’t seem to tear them away. She looked as surprised as he felt, her cheeks coloring at Ana’s praise, but she also hadn’t spoken up. He wondered if she was waiting to hear how he would respond to this awkward situation. After another breath, he forced himself to look away from her and back at Ana.

“Ms. Worth and I met informally this morning.”

Ana frowned but didn’t question the explanation. “Well. Tessa is our new marketing and PR coordinator for the hospital.”

He nearly groaned aloud. This was the woman he was supposed to work so closely with? Based on their earlier encounter, he was even less thrilled than he’d been when Ana had explained the directive to him.

“Oh, well then. Tessa, Dr. Brennan is the head of our pediatric oncology ward.”

Tessa seemed to have gathered her composure as she stepped forward and raised a hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Dr. Brennan.”

He ignored her hand, stubbornly keeping his arms folded across his chest.

Ana cleared her throat, and as he caught her eye, he noted the scowl on her features. He reluctantly dropped his arms and shook Tessa’s hand. He couldn’t help noticing the softness of her skin, her fingers pleasantly cool within his. He broke the handshake as quickly as he could.

“I’d like for Tessa to shadow you today to get a better understanding of your role here at the hospital.”

Noah and Tessa both began to protest at the same time.

“I don’t think that’s warranted—”

“I’m sure Dr. Brennan has a lot to do—”

Ana’s expression silenced them both. “Let’s keep in mind what these PR campaigns are really about. It’s not about me, or either of you, or even the hospital. It is about raising money for these children. Getting them more care, better care and the very best tools to help them get well. So whatever issues you are dealing with should be set aside for the sake of this initiative. We are here to save lives.”

Noah frowned. He had to hand it to her—Ana had the guilt speech down pat. How could either of them protest when she put it like that? For the length of several heartbeats, no one said anything.

To his irritation, it was Tessa who broke it.

“I’d be happy to shadow you today, Dr. Brennan, if you don’t mind.”

Of course he minded. Not that he would say so now after Ana’s tidy little reprimand.

“That would be fine,” he replied, his voice tight. Ana picked up on his annoyance and shot him a warning look.

He ignored it. He appreciated the need for fund-raisers, and Ana was right—these children deserved every weapon the hospital could supply them in their fight against cancer. But Noah’s job was on the front lines, fighting with and for these kids. It wasn’t to be in the spotlight, promoting the hospital’s work. It only distracted him from his true purpose.

“Well then, if there’s nothing more you two need from me, I’ll leave you to get better acquainted.”

Noah felt a moment’s panic, and he could tell, from Tessa Worth’s wide eyes, that she was experiencing the same emotion.

“Maybe I should come back later, give Dr. Brennan time to...do...whatever he usually does in the morning,” she finished, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Later would be better—” He jumped on this opportunity to delay the inevitable.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The whole point is for Tessa to get an understanding of your day,” Ana said to him. “I trust you two will figure it out.”

Before either one could protest further, Ana stepped around Tessa and out the door, leaving them alone.

He suppressed a sigh as he said, “Well, let’s get started, then.”

* * *

AS TESSA FOLLOWED Noah on his rounds, he realized she’d gotten to know far more people in a couple of weeks than he had in six months. She greeted all the staff on the floor by name, asking after their spouses, their children and their pets. One of the nurses reminded her she was supposed to email them a recipe, and Tessa complied by instantly sending it out from her phone.

The more he saw how quickly they warmed to her, the more irritated he became. Who was this woman to show up and ruin his day, starting at the coffee shop and now here, in his own hospital?

It only made him more determined not to like her, especially the times they accidentally came into contact—when their arms brushed, or she leaned toward him to ask a question. She was bright and attentive, which only made his efforts to ignore her all the more difficult.

He updated her briefly on the next patient, Kyle Miller, trying his best not to notice how long her lashes were as her brown eyes focused intently on his. Clearing his throat, he turned and walked into Kyle’s room. Kyle was ten and had been battling leukemia since his diagnosis five weeks ago.

“Hello, Dr. Brennan.”

Kyle’s mother, Sheila, greeted him warily. It was a tone he was used to hearing. He knew she’d want answers, so he focused on Kyle and put Tessa out of his head as he brought up the boy’s chart on the iPad Noah held in his hand.

Tessa shifted beside him, and when he remained absorbed in Kyle’s chart, she took it upon herself to tell the family who she was. As she chatted with the parents, he scrolled through Kyle’s latest test results, trying not to listen but finding it impossible.

“You like model ships?” she commented, and from the corner of his eye, Noah saw she was referring to the wooden craft Kyle had obviously been assembling.

“Yeah,” Kyle shyly confirmed. “This was a gift from my grandpa. He came to visit me yesterday.”

“That’s great,” Tessa said, and he marveled at how genuine she sounded. “It looks pretty hard to assemble, though. Is your dad helping you put it together?”

Kyle’s father, Matt, laughed. “I can’t even glue together popsicle sticks, so I’m no help.”

Noah flicked his eyes up just long enough to see that the entire family seemed to be slightly more at ease as Tessa spoke to them. He continued reviewing the boy’s chart. The test results looked promising, and he felt a measure of relief. Kyle might be turning the corner before long.

“My dad once tried to put together a model airplane,” Tessa was saying. “I think he ended up using it for kindling one winter.”

There was more laughter, and something about the sound set Noah on edge.

“Kyle’s numbers are improving,” he said, interrupting the conversation. “This means the treatments are working. We’ll continue on this course.”

The mood shifted, and Noah felt the family’s momentary joy dissipate as swiftly as blowing out a match.

“For how long?” Sheila asked.

“We’ll continue the chemotherapy for a couple more months. The numbers in the next few weeks will determine how long the treatment progresses.”

“So...that’s good?” Matt asked.

“For now,” Noah said as he looked back at the iPad. “As I said, we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Someone cleared their throat, but he ignored it. Then, a second time. Noah glanced up and realized it had been Tessa who made the sound. She was staring at him, her eyes conveying some sort of message he couldn’t read. He stared back at her, uncertain why she was looking at him in that way. After a few awkward moments, she turned back to Kyle and his parents.

“I’m sure what Dr. Brennan means is that this is good news. The treatments are working. That’s why we will continue doing what we’re doing, in order to help Kyle obtain full remission from the disease.”

Noah frowned. “I can’t make any promises to that end.”

Tessa’s head whipped around, and she gave him that sharp gaze once more. He noticed that Kyle’s parents were glancing back and forth between him and Tessa. He didn’t much like it.

“Does that mean I’m not going to get better?” Kyle piped up.

“I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that you do,” Noah stated, his tone firm.

“Dr. Brennan, could I have a private word with you?” Tessa asked, her tone sweet but unyielding.

Noah made an effort not to let his irritation show. What in the world did she want now?

“Of course,” he agreed, attempting to sound reasonable. Tessa turned to the family.

“Would you excuse us for a moment?”

She stood and headed from the room as he hurried to keep pace with her clipped strides. She didn’t stop walking until they were out in the hall and several feet away from the room, well out of earshot from Kyle and his parents.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“I don’t understand the question,” he said.

“Those people are facing the most horrific scenario they can imagine, the possible death of their son, and you are treating them no differently than if their child has a common cold!”

Noah blinked once, then twice, before his anger began to rise.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she muttered in a low tone, keeping her voice down. Noah was vaguely aware that they were standing in an alcove of the hallway—not in direct sight and hearing of others but close enough for someone to observe their exchange.

“Can you remind me again, Ms. Worth, what it was you were hired to do here?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

“Marketing. Fund-raising. Publicity. Goodwill. Not diagnosis. Not medicine. Certainly not cancer treatment. That is my job,” he reminded.

Her eyes were shining with rage, deepening them to a beautiful caramel brown. But he was angry, too, and determined not to be distracted.

“That’s not the only part of your job,” she countered. “You’re also supposed to support these people, treat them with compassion.”

“I’m compassionate,” he argued and then cringed at the defensiveness of his tone. He did not need to prove himself to this woman.

“Not from what I can see,” she fired back, and the passion of her words stirred something deep inside him. When was the last time he’d encountered such fervor? When was the last time he had ever felt such fire in himself? Not for years. Not since before Ginny had started experiencing symptoms... He shifted the watch on his wrist, righting it so the face stared up at him.

“That little boy is terrified,” she continued. “So are his parents. And you did nothing to reassure them.”

He tensed. Passion was one thing, but he would not let her presume to know his job. “I don’t make false promises,” he replied, his voice cold in contrast to the heat in hers. “Hope does more harm than the cancer itself.”

She opened her mouth, presumably to contradict him, but he forged ahead, rattled by her judgment of him and his methods.

“Do you know what hope is, Ms. Worth? It’s a disease. It leads you along, blinds you to reality and leaves you unprepared for death. When you cling to hope, it eats away at you, one minute at a time, a more silent killer than the leukemia ever will be. Because it destroys you without evidence. It misdirects, making you think there is a chance that life will one day be the same, that you can go back to normal. But there is no normal life anymore. There is no chance of that.”

Noah wasn’t sure at what point in his speech he’d stopped referring to his patients and began speaking of himself, but he kept going, a flood of angry words that he could not seem to stop. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to get angry, to rail against the forces beyond his control. But this woman and her sudden intrusion into his day had worn away at the defenses he normally kept in place.

“You can do everything right—treatments, protocols, rules—but all it takes is one mistake, a single slipup, and the disease rushes in, more ravenous than before. And where is hope when that happens? It abandons you.” He clenched his hands around the tablet he still held, trying to keep his fingers from shaking with rage. “Do not mistake compassion with false guarantees. I do not lie to my patients. They should be prepared for every scenario.”

A memory of Ginny surfaced, in the last days before the disease had taken her, her face chalky, purplish-red bruises beneath her faded green eyes. She had looked at him, almost accusingly. He had promised her she would get better, that she’d be running and playing again before she knew it.

Within the month, she was dead.

His voice was hoarse with the effort of keeping back the tears and resisting a grief so deep and sharp that it felt as if his heart had been pierced. “Hope is fine for fairy tales, but it has no place here, in these halls,” he rasped out.

And then he turned away, oblivious to the stares he sensed around them, and headed for his office, where he could close the door and remind himself that he was no longer hope’s victim. Because fate had already taken everything that mattered to him, and now, there was nothing left for it to claim.