I open the door excited, but my excitement evaporates when I see Westin standing there, holding an envelope, talking to another doctor.
“Yes, the patients are given a number,” he explains to Dr. Wells. “Dr. Adams will then correlate the number. We need to make sure there are no discrepancies before we sign off at the end.”
Dr. Wells looks over the file. “This all looks great.”
No. He can’t be an advisor and auditor on this. He can’t, because that would just be the biggest cosmic joke ever. He’ll have to come and meet patients, oversee everything I do, and I’ll have to check in with him. This can’t be happening to me.
“Wes?”
“Hey,” he smiles. “I was just looking over your paperwork.”
“For?”
He scratches the back of his head, which is his nervous tell. “I’m one of the advisors on the team.”
And yet, it seems this is very much happening.
I’m not sure why the hospital would sign off on this. He and I are romantically involved and even though we keep it quiet, people know. It’s sure to be viewed as a conflict by someone. Not only that, why the hell would he want to do this? After everything last night, this is a huge mistake. Maybe I can get him to hand it over to another doctor, one who doesn’t know me quite so . . . intimately.
“Can we talk for a minute?” I ask and jerk my head to the side.
My nerves can’t take much more of this. I feel as though I’m coming apart at the seams. Nothing has gone right since Bryce Peyton showed up in town.
I release a deep breath from my nose when we reach the hallway. “How?” I ask quickly.
“I didn’t—”
“You didn’t think this was important to tell me? You didn’t think I should have even been given the slightest heads-up? Or do you not think this is a very, very bad idea, Westin?” I rub my forehead. “All night you had to mention it and not a word!”
There are rules about what can be shared and I’ve already mentioned cutting Allison from the trial. I won’t be able to hide that there’s a history between myself and one of the clients, not after how I felt in that room a few moments ago. He needs to recuse himself from this.
“I’m professional enough to handle this, Dr. Adams,” he bristles.
Oh, Dr. Adams, is it? Got it.
“I’m not implying you’re not, Dr. Grant. I’m simply stating that you and I are more than colleagues and I would like to avoid any possible signs of favoritism and impropriety,” I return with an equal amount of terseness in my tone.
Westin crosses his arms. “I’m more than capable of it.”
My throat gets tight as Westin stares me down. If he’s somehow figured out that my patient’s husband and I share a past, the entire thing could get shut down. I didn’t report it, which is clearly a violation, but maybe I can save this. No medication has been dispensed, there’s really nothing that’s been done questionably at this point.
“Why are you doing this? Why would you take this, knowing what we are and where we’re going?”
“We aren’t breaking any violations or rules. Dr. Pascoe is well aware of what we are. I submitted documentation of our relationship this morning before I officially signed on.”
I jerk back a little, my chest tight as though I’ve been punched. “I know it was important to you, but I didn’t think you’d go this far. I didn’t think you’d do this behind my back. I wasn’t ready to put paperwork in.”
Westin looks up and sighs, and then his eyes meet mine. “I see. I guess I misread the signs on what we were—nothing new there.”
That stings.
“That’s not what I was saying. I want this. I want us, but you and I both know that appearances, especially in a clinical trial, are important. We have to do everything above board. There can’t be the slightest hint of any ethical boundaries being crossed.”
“I know that, which is why I submitted the paperwork. I went to Dr. Pascoe and offered to step aside, but he wouldn’t hear it. I am one of the only doctors in this hospital that has extensive knowledge in clinical trials as well as the necessary protocols. There are four other doctors overseeing it, I’m not here to make things harder for you, Ren. I’m here to help.”
I shake my head, not sure what the hell to think. “You still went behind my back.”
“And I’m sorry for that. I really am. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t tell you either. I did what I thought was going to protect us both and give your patients the best opportunity at success.”
Westin gives me a few seconds to work this out in my head. A part of me knows he’s right, he did the right thing, what we probably should’ve done months ago, when we were still pretending we weren’t a thing.
“So, this means what?” I ask. “You’re overseeing the trial?”
“No, I’m just here to advise and make sure that all the paperwork is in order.”
I rub my forehead and release a heavy sigh. “Right.”
“Serenity, if I thought, for one second, that me being on this trial would harm you or your patients, I would walk.”
“What if it harms us?”
His shoulders fall and he sighs. “If I lose you now, then we were never meant to be. I’ve been chasing you for two years, Ren. Two years that I’ve waited for you to want more. You’ve given me these little slivers of you and then you pull them back each time you get too close to feeling anything. I want you. I want us. But I know that both of us put our patients and this hospital first, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m good at my job. I wasn’t trying to hurt you by going to the chief. I did that because it protected us both.” Westin touches my cheek, his green eyes full of conflict. “I’m sorry if that upsets you, but it was the right thing. I care about you more than you know,” his hand drops. “I will never ask you to do something that would harm your career by keeping secrets, Ren. Don’t ask me to do it either.”
My hand falls and Westin walks away, leaving me completely screwed. My new boyfriend and my ex, working on the same trial . . . what could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 15
“Do you want to wait for your husband?” I ask Allison as we stand in her room, ready to dispense the medication.
“If we can,” she says nervously. “I don’t want to be alone when this starts.”
“It’s no problem. We can wait a few minutes,” I smile.
“Sorry, he had to handle something.”
There are four patients still waiting to start the chemotherapy, and one of them will be the final placebo. I have been able to keep my face completely stoic with each patient so far. Hopefully this will be the same, but this one feels different.
“Please don’t worry about it, we’re not going anywhere,” I reassure her again.
Dr. Grant, please come to the nurses’ station, the loudspeaker blares.
I look over to Westin who gives one nod. “Go, we’ll be fine,” I tell him.
“I’ll be right back.” He touches my arm and then leaves.
Allison clears her throat, watching me with a smile that indicates she wants to say something. “Boyfriend?”