The Holiday Triplets (16 page)

Voice mail. Drat!

He sat there fuming. Then, on screen, he saw Sam standing in her driveway, rocking a baby. Looked like Connie, although from this angle he couldn't be sure.

He unmuted the TV. “I've been removed from any role in the clinic's future?” she demanded. “You're sure?”

His heart sank.

The camera shifted to newsman Hayden O'Donnell, his collar raised against the cold. “I'm afraid so. What's your reaction, Dr. Forrest?”

Tensely, she said, “I hope Mrs. Wycliff can put the clinic on solid financial footing.” That showed admirable restraint, in Mark's opinion.

“Does the hospital administration have the right to do this?” O'Donnell prodded. “Why do you suppose they kicked the clinic out of its offices in the first place?”

“To make room for their new fertility center, so they can bring in big guns like Dr. Owen Tartikoff.” Mark stopped
breathing. On the screen, Sam quickly amended, “I mean, someone
like
Dr. Tartikoff.”

There was no dissuading the reporter. “Is this true? Dr. Owen Tartikoff is going to head the new fertility center at Safe Harbor?” As Sam remained painfully silent, he addressed the camera. “I think we just got some inside information here, folks. You'll recall that Dr. Tartikoff pioneered a procedure that resulted in the birth of twins to sixty-year-old Olympic gold medalist…”

He went on talking, but Mark didn't hear another word. He'd carelessly told Sam about Dr. Tartikoff. Pillow talk, that was the term. Now, between them, they'd made a huge mess.

A mess so big he wasn't sure he'd be able to clean it up.

“I can't imagine that they'll fire you.” Lori turned gracefully, her silver wedding gown swishing around her. Open boxes tumbled about her apartment living room, some half-filled in preparation for moving to Jared's house and others displaying gifts. Sam wasn't sure which were Christmas presents and which were for the wedding. Not that it mattered. “Have I lost weight? This feels loose.”

“You haven't been eating much the past few months,” Sam pointed out, kneeling to check the hem. “Pining away for your lost love. This hangs fine, though. You don't need a tailor unless you're
really
picky.”

It felt like forever since September, when they'd shopped together for a gown and dresses. And tasted cakes, and hired a photographer. After the engagement ended, Lori had held on to her dress, which proved fortunate, because she was getting married on short notice.

Sam still fit into her silver-and-blue bridesmaid's dress, and she guessed that Jennifer's probably fit, too. The PR director hadn't been available today, Lori said.

Probably hiding from Sam's temper. Or hanging on to a temper of her own, given that yesterday Sam had likely ruined the hospital's chances of landing the great Dr. Tartikoff.

“I just hope I didn't get Mark into trouble,” she said as she straightened. “I feel awful.”

“Have you talked to him?” Holding back a hank of reddish-brown hair, Lori leaned over the portable playpen.

“I'm afraid to.”

“He hasn't called?”

“Or stopped by, either.” Sam shivered. Upset as she'd been, she'd never meant to do anything so destructive. “I emailed him an apology.”

“Email? Coward!”

“I texted one, too.”

“Just as bad!” Lori eyed the babies. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you dress them up as little cupids for the wedding? They're the ones who got Jared and me back together.”

“We could hang them from hooks on the church ceiling, and they could flutter overhead during the ceremony,” Sam deadpanned.

Lori laughed. “That might be considered child abuse.”

“Oh, pooh. They'd probably enjoy it. But wiser heads will prevail.”

“Unhook me, will you?” She turned, and Sam performed the honors.

The joy of preparing for a wedding eased the anxiety that had grown since her inexcusable gaffe the previous day. While the disclosure hardly constituted major news, the L.A. press loved celebrity gossip, and Dr. Tartikoff was a celebrity.

In response to the uproar, Jennifer had released a statement saying that the hospital was talking with several distinguished candidates and that nothing had been confirmed. As far as Sam could determine, Dr. T himself remained incommunicado. She hated to think what an
uncomfortable situation she'd created for him at his current Boston hospital.

Worst of all, she'd let Mark down. So far, he hadn't said a word to her about it.

Or about anything else.

“Is there a wedding rehearsal?” Sam asked as she helped Lori hang up the beautiful gown on a padded hanger.

“No. Since it's such a small ceremony, the minister offered to tell us what to do right beforehand. I'm just lucky the church was available.”

“On a Thursday night? Who'd get married then? I mean, besides you.” Sam eased the garment bag over the gown.

“They're booked solid on Friday for New Year's Eve, and on New Year's Day,” Lori said. “Some people consider that a lucky time to get married. It was either Thursday or wait until after the first of the year, and we're too impatient.”

“Your family must have quite a scramble to come on such short notice.” Lori's mother and five sisters lived in Denver.

The bride shook her head. “Only my mom and Louise are coming.” That was the next to oldest sister. “The others are tied up with family stuff. They promised to come for the big reception in January.”

“I'll look forward to meeting them.”

The two women spent the next hour playing with the babies and reviewing plans for decorations and photography, scaled down because of the rush. As Lori noted, she and Jared were saving tons of money, which they'd need for their future children's education.

“You should wait awhile and enjoy each other as a couple,” Sam cautioned.

“I agree.” Lori knelt on a blanket to change Connie's diaper. “Speaking of couples, what does all this mean
for you and Mark? I mean, if he won't even answer your email…”

Sam sighed. “I wish I knew.” After the way she'd betrayed his confidence, how could he ever trust her again?

“And what about the clinic? Mrs. Wycliff told you never to darken their doorstep again.”

Sam steeled her resolve. “She needs to learn her lesson the hard way.”

“What lesson?” Lori returned the baby to the playpen and went into the kitchen to wash her hands.

Since the kitchen opened onto the living room, Sam continued talking. “I'm taking her at her word. Even if it kills me, I'm leaving the clinic to her. Let her find out what it takes to manage the peer counselors, handle emergencies and try to persuade professionals to donate services. Raising money is one thing. Serving as interim director is another. She's unqualified, but she's going to have to discover that for herself.”

“You're abandoning the clinic?”

Tears stung at the prospect. Sam blinked them away. “Only temporarily. But I mean it. Hands off.”

“You're tough,” Lori told her.

“I have to be.”

As she cradled Colin on her lap, Sam didn't feel tough. She felt guilty and vulnerable and a bit lost. For once in her life, she didn't have a plan to make things right.

She was almost grateful for Eleanor Wycliff's arrogance. Otherwise, the only person she could be angry with was herself.

 

B
ECAUSE
C
HRISTMAS HAD FALLEN
on a Saturday, Monday was considered a holiday, giving most workers a three-day weekend. Mark hadn't scheduled any routine surgeries,
which was fortunate, because in between a delivery and an unplanned C-section, he spent most of the morning on the phone.

To members of the press, he issued carefully phrased denials about Dr. Tartikoff. With Eleanor, he listened politely and remained noncommittal as she insisted she was ready to take on the clinic in any and all capacities. As for his sister, she hadn't arrived or called. A couple of times Mark started to dial her number, but each time he pulled back. Let her make the first move. Let her take responsibility.

His least favorite call was from Chandra, who didn't believe in taking holidays, either. In fact, he'd reached her on Sunday and absorbed the brunt of her anger then. It had cooled, somewhat—or rather, hardened.

“I phoned Owen Tartikoff personally,” she announced when Mark answered. “He's threatening to withdraw from consideration.”

“Only threatening?” That left open a tiny window, which was more than Mark had expected.

“He'll reconsider if you fire Dr. Forrest as chief of pediatrics and remove her hospital privileges.”

A lead weight clamped over his chest. “That's outrageous. She's a gifted pediatrician and extremely hardworking. I'm sure she'll be glad to apologize. Privately
and
publicly if he wishes.” Judging by Sam's email and text, she appreciated how badly she'd screwed up.

“That's not good enough. She has to go.”

He couldn't let a personal relationship influence him on this matter. But Mark considered it his duty to protect his staff, whether that meant Sam or anyone else. “She may have a big mouth, but she hasn't harmed patients or committed any legal or medical errors.”

Angry and disappointed as he felt, he saw a vast
difference between his former fiancée's drug theft and Sam's mistake. The first had been calculated and illegal, the second a relatively minor error in judgment.

“She embarrassed us publicly! After the way we botched this, I doubt anyone of his caliber will look twice at the fertility center.” Her voice bristled.

To keep the peace, Mark refrained from observing what an exaggeration that was. “Let me talk to Owen myself. I'm sure he'll see things differently once he simmers down.” In his experience, people often backed away from ultimatums after a day or so of reflection.

“Simmers down? You're forgetting his reputation.”

The man was known for terrorizing nurses and antagonizing coworkers, but Mark had been willing to attribute that to perfectionism. Now, though, doubts bubbled to the surface. Dr. Tartikoff had no business insisting that the hospital fire its head of pediatrics over a verbal blunder. If Owen was that arrogant, he might not be the best choice to head up the new center.

He doubted Chandra would see it that way, however, so he tried a different tack. “Has it occurred to you how it will look if we fire Dr. Forrest under these circumstances? The press will have a field day.”

“Then it's your job to persuade her to move on voluntarily,” Chandra said. “If she's as outstanding as you say, I'm sure she has plenty of other opportunities.”

Sure, but I don't want her to take them.
Unthinkable to lose Sam not only as a lover but also as a friend and colleague.

Yet he stopped short of a direct refusal. This position at Safe Harbor had given Mark the chance of a lifetime, to transform a community hospital into a first-rate medical center for women and babies, and the fertility center represented the jewel in the crown. Securing someone of
Tartikoff's stature was critical. Two years ago, Mark had made a major life decision to come here, and he wasn't ready to throw away this opportunity without exploring all options.

“I'll discuss it with her,” he said into the phone.

“Do this right, Mark.”

That, he reflected as he said goodbye, was exactly the point.

 

D
ESPITE THE HOLIDAY
, S
AM SAW
patients on Monday morning because kids always managed to get sick on Christmas. She attributed that to a combination of irregular diet, too little sleep and viruses transmitted from person to person at holiday gatherings.

At midafternoon, she wolfed down a sandwich in the hospital cafeteria. About to head for her office on the fourth floor to catch up on paperwork, she saw Mark sitting alone at a table, watching her.

Glad that there was no one around to snoop and stare and gossip, she joined him. Her heart twisted as this man who normally radiated welcome merely lifted a hand in greeting.

It's my own fault.
“I'm sorry,” Sam replied miserably.

“I know. I got your messages.” His voice rang hollowly through the empty cafeteria. “I was just going to call you.”

“Did Tartikoff tell you to jump off a cliff?”

“Not exactly.”

She saw the conflict in his eyes. He didn't have to say another word. “I'm the sacrificial lamb. Well, I refuse to be forced out. Honestly, Mark! It's not as if I screwed up a diagnosis or was negligent with a patient!”

“I know that,” he said quietly.

“I refuse to accept a blot on my record. Getting fired is
unreasonable, unfair and a violation of my contract. You know perfectly well I could fight this.”

He nodded. “No one's firing you.”

“What, then?”

“Chandra asked me to persuade you to leave voluntarily. Sam, it's up to you. I'll fight right alongside you if that's what you want.”

On the verge of agreeing, she hesitated. She wanted very much to stay. Not for the counseling clinic, which she seemed unable to save, and not for being chief of pediatrics—heck, she might resign from that position, anyway—but for her patients and friends, and to be around Mark. Mostly, to stay with Mark.

Where could this relationship lead, though? They saw the world from such opposite perspectives that something like this had been bound to happen, sooner or later. If she stayed, it would happen again.

Should she consider her other options? Sam had built a comfortable nest in Safe Harbor, but now that she had children, maybe she ought to consider moving closer to family.

“My brother's been trying for ages to talk me into moving back to Seattle,” she said.

“He's a cardiologist, isn't he?”

She nodded. “On the other hand, now that I've finally paid off my student loans, I'd prefer to join my parents in Mexico. It would be great for my kids to live near their grandparents.”

“You're sure you're okay with this?” His tone implied that
he
wasn't.

Neither was Sam, yet she ought to be feeling enthusiastic. She'd always planned to make a major contribution to the poor, and here was her chance. So what if she'd miss the life she'd established in Safe Harbor?
I owe a debt to
those who're suffering.
Her parents were always talking about the need for more doctors.

“It may take me a few months to work out the legalities with adopting the triplets,” she warned. “And I also have to find a pediatrician to take over my practice. But I could make an announcement as soon as I talk to my parents. Maybe right after the first of the year.”

He scowled. “I hate this. They have no business forcing you out. I'm the one who leaked sensitive information.”

“And I'm the one who shot my mouth off, as usual. Besides, I've always intended to do something like this eventually. And I miss my family.” That reminded her. “Speaking of family, did your sister ever get here?”

He shook his head. “I'm a little concerned, but I refuse to climb back on that emotional roller coaster. This time, I'll wait for her to contact me.” His brow furrowed as he stared past Sam. “Do you realize it's snowing?”

She glanced out the glass doors to the patio. Sure enough, snowflakes were swirling thickly around deserted tables and chairs. “Wow, that's more than a flurry. It's starting to accumulate. But that never happens in southern California.”