I ignore him and get in the driver’s side while Carmen jumps into the passenger seat. I hit the gas and spew gravel at him as we leave the yard. I hope some of it hits him.
“Seriously, I will pay you back.”
“You’re helping to repair my image. That’s more than enough repayment.”
I pull up to her apartment building at just after one thirty.
“I’m going to be a wreck tomorrow,” Carmen says, yawning.
“I’ll walk you up.”
“You don’t have to. It’s late. Go get some sleep.”
She fumbles with the door handle, so I reach across her to help. The press of my arm against her abdomen sets off another one of those fireworks shows that’ve been happening inside me since the first time I saw her. Was that really only twenty or so hours ago?
“I’ve got it.”
I retreat from her, but I wish I didn’t have to. That’s not a thought that someone sitting in my boat ought to be having about any woman. “Check in with me tomorrow?” Part of me is afraid I’ll never hear from her again after this disastrous day. Just when I think things can’t get worse, I cause an innocent young woman to end up in jail twice in one day.
“I will. I’ve got a few ideas we can get going on.”
“I’m ready when you are. I have an appointment with a Realtor to look at condos. I should probably keep that in case I get to stay.”
“I can help with that, too.”
“Perfect.”
“It’s the least I can do after costing you more than a thousand dollars in one day.”
“Not your fault. Go to bed, Carmen. Have sweet dreams about something other than jail.”
“Too soon, Jason. Far too soon.”
She leaves me laughing as she gets out of the car and walks inside. I wait to make sure she’s safely in before I take off, heading for the hotel the hospital put me up in.
Before bed, I make the mistake of checking my email and find a message from Mr. Augustino asking me to refrain from stepping foot onto the hospital campus until the board has time to review my situation.
Awesome.
I want to throw the phone across the room. I’d do it except for the hassle it would be to replace it. I’ve got enough hassles in my life right now.
I really hope Carmen can help me, because the way things are looking now, I’m totally fucked if she can’t.
CARMEN
I dream of jail. I blame Jason for putting that idea in my head. Despite the rough night, I’m determined to make my second day on the job less eventful than the first one. With that in mind, I’m at my desk by eight thirty with a cortadito, otherwise known as Cuban coffee, from my girl Juanita’s ventanita. I’m counting on it to clear the cobwebs from my sleep-deprived brain.
Mornings aren’t my thing, even when I have a full night of sleep.
Jason texted to tell me what Mr. Augustino said about staying away from the hospital until the board comes to a decision. I can tell that has him more dejected than he was last night. That fires my determination to help him, though I still think he should be hiring crisis communication experts.
Mona arrives shortly after I do and comes to my door. “Did you go out with Dr. Northrup last night?” The question is asked with a girlfriend giggle that reminds me of nails on a chalkboard.
“We had a business dinner.”
“Is that right?”
“I don’t do gossip, Mona, and I don’t appreciate when others do, either, especially at work.”
As if I didn’t say anything, she comes into my office and sits. “Have you heard about him? About what happened in New York?”
“Yes, he told me about how he was set up by a woman who wanted out of a bad marriage and how the career he’s worked toward for more than a decade is in jeopardy because of what she did.”
That seems to take some of the air out of her sails. “She set him up?”
I’m not sure he’d want me sharing this with her, but we’re going to have to tell his side of the story if we’re to put his career back on track. “She used him shamelessly to advance her own agenda and broke his heart in the process.”
“Why hasn’t he said so?”
“Because she has children, and he doesn’t want to drag them through their mother’s mess.”
“Huh.”
“You can’t believe everything you see and hear, Mona. There’re always two sides to a story.” Why do I feel as if I’m the older of the two of us when she has decades on me?
“What’s he going to do?”
“He’s trying to repair his reputation so he’ll be offered privileges here.”
“How does he plan to do that?” Mr. Augustino asks from the doorway, startling us both.
Crap.
Mona, that rat, gets up and hightails it out of there.
Mr. Augustino comes in, shuts the door and takes a seat in my visitor chair. I figure he’s in his late fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a matching goatee. He’s immaculately dressed in a navy pin-striped suit with a light-blue pocket square that complements his tie.
I’m hit with a serious case of nerves. The hospital president is in my office. I have no idea how to play this. Does he want Jason, er, Dr. Northrup, to redeem himself, or is he opposed to the idea?
I decide to go with the truth. “You should know there’s another side to the story of what happened in New York.”
“Dr. Northrup told me that and indicated he’s unwilling to go public with his side because the woman in question has children.”
“That’s right.”
“I’ve passed the information along to the board.”
“Oh. You did?”
Mr. Augustino nods. “I’m not looking to further damage the man’s career, Ms. Giordino. He’s a world-class physician. I’ve felt all along that we’d be lucky to have him—and his very promising research—on our medical staff. That said, I do understand the board’s hesitation in light of the scandal in New York and the lack of candor about that at the outset.”
“I have some ideas of things we can do to help restore his reputation.”
“Such as?”
“My cousin works as a nurse at the Our Lady of Charity free clinic in Little Havana. Their doctor was injured in an accident, which has left them shorthanded. Dr. Northrup might be able to fill in while their doctor is out on medical leave. For free, of course.”
“And he’s willing to do this?”
“Provided he has insurance coverage. He’s checking on that today.”
Mr. Augustino tilts his head and gives me an odd look. “So you’ve already discussed this possibility with Dr. Northrup?”
Dammit. I’ve painted myself into a tight corner. “Yes, sir. I offered to help him with his situation. On my own time, of course.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I, um, he helped me with something yesterday, and I owe him a favor.” Please don’t ask what, please don’t ask what . . .
“What did he help you with?”
I think fast. “He asked me to take care of getting him an employee parking space, which turned out to be more complicated than I anticipated. When he came to assist me, we got to talking about what brought him to Miami. One thing led to another, and I offered to help him to thank him for helping me.” God, I hope he believes me.