In a past life, I would’ve loved to live here, but not now. When I’m not working, I need a place where I can decompress and relax. That can’t happen here.
The condo is located in a high-rise with an incredible ocean view and great amenities. But on the ninth floor, I can hear the street noise, even with the doors and windows closed.
Deb, the Realtor, is peppy, enthusiastic and probably already calculating her commission on the nine-hundred-thousand-dollar condo that’s all glass and hard edges and modern features. I hate to disappoint her. “I’m not feeling this place.”
“Oh, thank God,” Carmen says, breath leaving her in a whoosh of relief.
“You hate it.”
“I hate it.”
Deb is clearly offended but keeps that to herself.
“What’ve you got in Brickell?” I ask her.
“Oh, well, I’d have to look and see what’s available.”
“I think that’d be better for me. It’s closer to work.”
“Give me a minute to check the listings.”
After Deb steps into the kitchen to work on her phone, Carmen shoots me a smug smile that I find ridiculously adorable—and funny. I love that she’s not afraid to tell me how she really feels. That’s a refreshing change from women I’ve known in the past who would say what they thought I’d want to hear rather than sharing their true opinion. I dated one woman in college who never seemed to have an original thought the entire time we were together. She was all about pleasing me, and while that has its advantages, it got boring after a while.
I have a feeling I’d never be bored with Carmen, not that I’m planning to date her. I’m just saying . . . She’s unique. And so, so pretty in a natural, unaffected way that really appeals to me. She doesn’t need layers of makeup to enhance what she was born with.
Why am I thinking about how pretty Carmen is, or whether she needs makeup? I’m supposed to be focused on finding a place to live—if I end up with a job here—and restoring my reputation. Once again, I need the reminder that this is not the time to be dazzled by Carmen.
“I’ve got quite a few in your price range, one with excellent views of the Rickenbacker and Biscayne Bay,” Deb says from the kitchen, where she’s scrolling on an iPad.
Carmen gives me a thumbs-up.
So I won’t be at the beach. That’s fine. I’d hardly ever have time to take advantage of the proximity anyway. “Sounds good.”
“Let me check in with some of the listing agents and see what I can do.”
CHAPTER 8
JASON
After she walks away, I glance at Carmen. “I’m probably jinxing myself even looking at places. The board is a long way from approving me.”
“They’ll approve you. We’ll make sure of it.”
“You’re far more confident than I am.”
“We have to make it so they’d look stupid to say no to you.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
She thinks about that for a second. “Where are we with the testimonials from former patients? I was thinking we could use them to tell your story for the presentation. If there’re photos of you with the patients, that’s even better.”
I forgot I was supposed to ask my former colleague in New York about that. “I’ll reach out to Terri now.” I fire off a text to the nurse administrator, who’s the glue that holds the neurosurgery department together, and tell her what I need. I list a few of the patients I’m thinking of who might be grateful enough to share their stories of working with me. I saved their lives. Perhaps they can help save my career. “Done.” I glance at Carmen. “It’s a really good idea and one I never would’ve thought of on my own.”
“That’s because your job is brain surgery. Mine is publicity, promotion and marketing.”
I laugh at the cocky way she says that. “Touché.”
“Stay in your lane, Doc. I gotcha covered on the rest.”
I’m so thankful to have her on my side. She gives me hope that it may be actually possible to repair my tattered reputation.
“We have to tell your story as a world-class physician. You’re far more than one measly scandal.”
“The scandal wasn’t measly.”
“No, but it’s yesterday’s news. I did a deep dive online last night, and there’s been no mention of it anywhere in more than a week. While it’s the biggest thing in your life, everyone else has moved on. Well, except for the Miami-Dade board, that is. But by the time we’re done with them, they’ll be so inundated with the positive they won’t remember the measly little scandal in New York. That’s the plan, anyway.”
“I like that plan.”
“I figured you would.”
“When did you have time last night to do a deep dive online between dinner and your second trip to jail?”
She grimaces at the mention of jail. “I did it before we went to dinner, but I didn’t mention it because I was still formulating my plan of attack.”
“Well, it’s good to know it’s not big news in New York anymore.”
“You can thank the twenty-four-hour news cycle for that. It moves on faster than it used to.”
I’m unreasonably relieved to hear the scandal isn’t headline news anymore, but the damage is certainly done. I hate that for the rest of my life—and beyond—anytime someone searches for my name, the crap with Ginger will come up.
Deb returns to where we’re waiting for her in the condo. “We’re in luck. I was able to line up a showing in Brickell. I’ll text you the address. Shall we meet there in an hour?”
I glance at Carmen, and she nods. “We’ll be there,” I tell Deb.
“Great.”
We walk out together, and when we get to my car, I hold the passenger door for Carmen, who winces when her backside connects with hot leather. As I get in the car, my phone chimes with a text from Terri. Hey, it’s good to hear from you. Everyone is still wound up about what they did to you. Hope things are working out for you in Miami. We sure do miss you here! I’ll definitely reach out to the patients you mentioned and see what we can do. This whole thing is utter BULLSHIT, and the entire department is pissed about how you were treated. How can YOU be scrambling to find another job?!?!
I read and reread Terri’s text, soaking in words that are like a balm on my broken heart, before passing the phone to Carmen. “From my former colleague.”
She quickly reads Terri’s message. “That must be nice to hear.”
“It is. I always worked hard, respected my colleagues, filled in for them when needed and treated the nurses like the superheroes they are.”
“Let’s get statements from Terri and the others in your former department.”
“For what?”
“For the PowerPoint presentation we’re going to put together for your next meeting with the board.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about asking my former colleagues to do that.”
“You want to fix this, right?”
“Very much so.”
“Then you’re going to have to do some things that may not sit well with you, such as getting testimonials from former colleagues and publicity for pro bono work at the clinic, if we can make that happen.”