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Authors: Alison Stone

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BOOK: Critical Diagnosis
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Lily jerked her head back in disbelief. “Your grandparents have always been generous.” They’d supported her all the way through medical school and she was only the daughter of their former housekeeper.

“Yeah, the economy is tough right now. Even on Medlink.”

“I didn’t know things were tough at Medlink. Your grandfather was the first person to offer me lab space to work on a cure for a rare disease very few people have ever heard of. They’ve always supported my research, even before they realized my work may have wider applications to treat other genetic diseases, too.” Planting her elbow on the table, she rested her chin on the heel of her hand. “I still find it hard to believe they’d cut funding to the clinic. The work you do is so important.”

“If your research has the far-reaching applications that you think it does, it will go a long way to securing Medlink’s financial future.”

Lily laughed and rolled her eyes. “No pressure there.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “I still can’t believe my research for an orphan disease that only affects a small group has the potential to help scores of people with genetic-related diseases. It’s amazing, really.”

“And Medlink stands to gain financially.”

Lily waved her hand. “That’s fine by me. My goal has always been the same. To help my niece. If your grandparents reap the benefits of supporting my research all these years, that’s just icing on the cake.”

He studied her face for a moment, the intense gesture unnerving her. “I suppose we’ve both been driven by our pasts.” James pushed back from the table and stood. “Well, let me help you clean up and then I’ll replace the lightbulb out front.”

“Go replace the bulb. I’ll clean up,” she said, gathering the dishes into a pile while running his words through her mind.
Driven by our pasts.

* * *

On Monday morning, James arrived at his grandparents’ house bright and early. Charlie, their landscaper and all-around handyman, was watering the petunias. “Morning, Dr. James.” Charlie had called him Dr. James since the day he’d graduated from medical school. He was like a proud papa of sorts.

“Morning. It’s going to be a scorcher.”

“You got that right, and you know how Mrs. O’Reilly is about her flowers.” He hoisted the hose, sending a soft spray of water over the pink and purple petunias in the far back of the flower bed.

“The landscaping looks great.”

“I could come by the clinic and put some flowers out front. Spruce up the place.”

James smiled. “Not that the clinic couldn’t use it, but you work too hard as it is.”

Charlie frowned. “Someone tromped all over the pansies in the garden near the pool the other night. I bet it was the crazy person who gave my Edna a start.”

“How’s Edna doing?”

The gardener shook his head. “My wife hasn’t been sleeping well. She keeps seeing shadows in the yard.”

“I’ve talked to Security a few times over the weekend.” James pointed to the side of the house. “The gate to the yard wasn’t secure Saturday night. Anyone had access to the pool area. From now on, everyone has instructions to use the keypad for entry into the backyard through the gate. You also have a security system on the carriage house, right?”

“Yes. I’ve tried to remind Edna of that. She’s a worrier, you know?” Charlie yanked on the hose, dragging it along the emerald-green grass. “The police chief any closer to catching this guy?”

James lowered his voice. “No, not yet. They’re going to call in a sketch artist. Maybe Lily can remember enough details for them to track this guy down.” The sooner this guy was off the street, the sooner James could stop worrying nonstop about Lily. Not that he’d stop thinking about her altogether. But he needed to know she wasn’t going to be someone’s target.

Charlie swiped the back of his hand over his sweaty brow. “What’s this world coming to?”

“Just keep your eyes open, Charlie.”

“Always.”

James took a step toward the front porch and stomped the freshly cut grass from his polished shoes. “Don’t work too hard.”

“You know me, Dr. James. I don’t like to be sitting idle.” Charlie adjusted the spray on the nozzle, a concerned expression lining his sun-weathered features.

“Good thing you work for my grandparents, then.” James smiled, then turned and pressed a few numbers on the security keypad next to the door. The light flickered red, then green. He pushed open the front door and the cool conditioned air came rushing out. A huge bouquet of roses, with a “Happy Birthday” marker poking out from a spray of green, sat on the foyer table, left over from the weekend festivities.

From deep in the house he heard Stephanie’s voice. She must have parked around the side of the home and entered through the back door.

James strolled into the dining room and found his grandfather sitting at the head of the table.

“Look who’s here.” His grandfather’s once commanding voice sounded gravelly. He made no effort to stand, instead placing his hands on either side of his plate. He fidgeted with his silverware. He looked paler than normal this morning. Drawn. Tired. Perhaps the party and chaos had been too much for him.

“Morning.” James shook his grandfather’s hand. His grasp was not as firm as it once was. The concern for his grandfather’s well-being niggled at the back of his brain, but he couldn’t come out and inquire about his health. Although well intended, James’s concern wouldn’t be well received. His grandfather was a proud man.

“What would you like to eat, my boy?” His grandfather tipped his gray head toward the kitchen. “Edna will make you whatever you want.”

A stack of pancakes and fresh strawberries sat in the middle of the table. “Pancakes look fantastic.”

“Are you sure? She can cook up some bacon or sausage.” His grandfather patted his belly. “Me, I need to cut back.” His grandfather’s plate was piled high with food, making James doubt his grandfather’s
I’m-so-full
act.

“This is fine, really.”

Across the table, Stephanie scoffed. “Grandfather, this breakfast must look like a feast. He’s used to eating chow in the mess hall.” She smiled brightly at James. “That’s what they call it, right?”

James pushed his tongue against his cheek. “Don’t knock what you’ve never tried.” Actually, James ate better in the army than he did as a bachelor living in the apartment over the clinic.

“I don’t need to try something to know I won’t like it.” Stephanie picked up the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice and filled the crystal goblet.

His grandfather cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re home. You did this family proud.”

A lump of emotion formed in his throat. He had never heard his grandfather say as much. “Thank you.” James pulled out a chair and sat to the right of his grandfather and across from his cousin.

“I believe—” his grandfather’s authoritative voice cut through his thoughts “—it’s time you came back to Medlink full-time. Stop running yourself ragged at the clinic.”

“I suppose we have some business to discuss, then.” James turned to Stephanie, her fork frozen midway to her mouth. It wasn’t fair to anyone to prolong announcing his decision.

His grandfather nodded. “Yes, we do. Elinor has some crazy ideas about taking a cruise around the world and some other nonsense. It’s time I cut back.”

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” James joked, lining up his fork, knife and spoon with precision.

His grandfather raised a skeptical eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. “We’ve been married a long time. She’s always supported me. It’s my turn to do something for her.” The acknowledgment surprised James. His grandfather wiped the white linen napkin across his mouth. “It’s time to transition the leadership of Medlink. Now. While I can make sure it’s done right.” His grandfather never used the word
retirement.
Instead, he referred to cutting back. Transitioning. Never retiring. “I’ll be taking a position on the board of directors.”

“A board of directors?” Turning her head slowly toward their grandfather, Stephanie set her glass down, her lips slightly parted.

“Yes. I have put together a board of directors to ease the transition. I realize it’s not something done often with privately owned companies, but I think they will prove beneficial with their breadth of knowledge.” His grandfather rubbed his fingers together as if he were trying to rid them of crumbs. “I will have a position on the board. The bylaws will allow the CEO to have a wide berth. But checks and balances are a good thing.”

“And you expect James to be the new CEO?” Stephanie asked, never taking her eyes from their grandfather. Expectancy weighed heavily in the air.

“Of course. That was always the plan.” His grandfather met her gaze, unwavering.

“I’m ready to pull more of the departments under my leadership.” Stephanie angled her chin. She draped her long blond hair over one shoulder and blinked her large blue eyes.

“I know you are, Stephanie, but I need to know James is on board.” His grandfather shifted in his seat to square off with his grandson.

“You know where my priorities lie.” James spread the white linen napkin over one knee.

“In a foreign country? Or in that clinic your father insisted on starting?” His grandfather ran a finger along his jaw and gave James that ultimatum look, the one he’d given when he’d been determined to send James away to boarding school. “It was okay when your father did it, because I was still in my prime. But you’re needed here now.”

“The people I serve need me.” James kept his voice even. He cut a gaze toward Stephanie; her expression had softened. She seemed puzzled. His news must have come as a shock—a pleasant one, for sure.

“You should be proud of James, Grandfather. He’s a great physician. Perhaps he’s more suited to practicing medicine than running a business.” Stephanie sat completely still. The air was wrought with tension.

“Thanks for the support, coz,” James said, a knowing smile pulling on his lips. Then to his grandfather, he said, “I need to be up front with you. I plan to reenlist.” Stephanie let out an audible gasp.

A steely gaze lit his grandfather’s eyes. “There is a time and place for everything. You’ve already served our country. I didn’t put you through medical school for you to enlist in the army.” Little tremors shook his grandfather’s head. The formidable man—a force to be reckoned with all of James’s life—suddenly looked so very, very old. And it made James very, very sad.

Indecision forced the breath from James’s lungs. “The army needs me.”


I
need you. You must secure Medlink’s future for the next generation.”

James squared his shoulders. His grandfather never took no for an answer. Even now. He’d go to his grave yelling out commands.

“I don’t mean to upset you.” James softened his tone. “Stephanie is more than capable.”

“Thank you. I believe I am.” Stephanie set her fork across the plate and smiled.

His grandfather’s gaze slid to Stephanie—his red face registering his anger, the tremor in his head growing more pronounced—and back to James. “I think it’s important Medlink has you at the helm, James.”

“Grandfather, I went to med school to practice medicine. The only assurance I need from you and Stephanie—if I relinquish the position of CEO—is that Medlink continues to fund the clinic.”

“Of course.” Stephanie squared her shoulders. She reached across the table and covered Grandfather’s hand. “We both know how important the clinic is, especially at a time when people can’t afford health care.”

All the dishes on the table bounced and rattled. His grandfather’s fist sat rigid on the edge of the table. “You are the next generation. You’re an O’Reilly. I expect you to return to Medlink as CEO.”

“Wait a minute.” Stephanie’s voice grew hard. “I’m an O’Reilly.”

His grandfather wiped his napkin across his mouth with a shaky hand and tossed it onto his plate. Holding on to the table, he forced himself to a standing position, the heavy chair scraping across the polished maple floor. He snatched his cane from the arm of his chair and leaned toward James, ignoring his granddaughter. “I have funded the clinic and I have allowed you to serve this country. However, the economy has been tough on Medlink. Changes are going to have to be made. Big changes. You’re free to stay or go. But if you go, don’t be surprised if you lose funding for your clinic. I’m especially concerned now after the incident there the other night. I don’t want to be responsible if someone else gets attacked.”

His grandfather took a few steps, his cane slamming against the hardwood floor. He swiveled and faced James. “And I don’t want the incident at the clinic tied in with Medlink in any way. It would make potential investors nervous. What would they think if one of our star researchers was almost killed?”

James twisted his cloth napkin in his lap. A rock dropped in his gut. He had feared his grandfather would use that incident against him. He bit back any comments, knowing it would only fuel both his grandfather’s rage and his determination to make a decision that proved he was still in charge. His grandfather had been generous. But he was also stubborn.

To get his way, his grandfather wouldn’t hesitate to use threats.

James watched as his grandfather stepped out onto the patio and pulled out a wrought-iron chair. Edna, the housekeeper, must have anticipated this because she had his coffee and newspaper out to him before he had a chance to settle in. Stretching across the table, the housekeeper cranked up the dark blue umbrella to block the morning sun.

James released a sharp breath. “It must be hard for Grandfather to give up control after all these years.”

Stephanie pushed her shoulders back. “Grandfather doesn’t want to cut off the clinic. He’s using it as a bargaining chip.” Glancing toward the French doors, she leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s not used to
not
getting his way. He wants to be able to control you. Don’t worry. Go do what you need to do, whether it’s the army or the clinic. I’ll see that Medlink continues to fund the clinic. I promise.”

“Of course you’re going to promise me that
now.
” He watched his cousin. “You’re getting exactly what you wanted. You’ll be the head of Medlink.”

BOOK: Critical Diagnosis
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