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Tom was in-house counsel for the hospital, while Rick the Prick was an ambulance-chasing attorney who liked to represent people making bullshit claims against hospital personnel.
The latest allegation was an obvious money grab, thinking the hospital would just pay to make it go away.
Not this time. Their best cardiothoracic surgeon, Miles Cunningham was being accused of sexual misconduct, and Miles was adamant his professional reputation not be marred by the allegation.
Liam thought it probably had more to do with Miles proving to his pregnant wife that he didn’t do what he was being accused of.
Liam had seen Miles with his wife, Bridget. The guy who was an arrogant bastard to everyone else was a walking pile of mush when it came to her. When Tom and Parker told Liam about the case against the doctor, he’d had a hard time believing it. And after meeting with Miles, he was even more convinced of the man’s innocence.
Tom’s team had scoured the hospital’s security cameras and had video proof that Miles was nowhere near the woman, and was, in fact, in the middle of surgery at the time she said the incident happened.
He looked forward to telling Rick the Prick to shove it up his ass.
Kathy greeted him with a friendly smile when he walked into her area.
“Ms. Douglas was here earlier. She said to tell you she left a note for you.”
“Thanks, I’ll look for it,” he said as he opened his office door.
He appreciated that Utah seemed to be trying to make amends. Her forgetting to text him had bothered him more than it should.
There was a sticky note on his computer monitor with Kathy’s hand writing.
Dinner with new second-shift staff tonight—6:15 in the cafeteria. They’re meeting you here.
Tonight was going to be a late night, and if Utah wasn’t living with him, he’d have had to ask Cindy to feed Phoebe. Thankfully Utah was going to be home before him and could take care of it.
I have no business owning a dog.
Hell, I have no business being involved with someone, and I sure as hell have no business thinking about being a dad someday.
He’d thought with her working there, the issue of his long hours would be remediated. Of course, that’d lasted, what? two days before it went up in smoke.
And yeah, it would be nice when he got home to find her waiting for him, and he liked not having to worry about Phoebe being taken care of, but this was only temporary.
After the first of the year, she’d move on to someone who didn’t work all the damn time, and who she didn’t have to fuck to stay out of jail. Someone she could have kids with.
Most days he was okay with the knowledge she was catering to his kinky desires in exchange for her freedom, but today it bothered him.
Oh, he was going to punish her, but at the same time, he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her.
Wasn’t there an old Cheap Trick song about that?
He sat down at his desk and saw a sheet of paper on his desk with Utah’s penmanship he recognized from her Dear John letter over a month ago.
This note was vastly different, and for that he was grateful.
Dear Sir,
I just wanted to stop in and apologize again for my forgetfulness this morning.
I am so sorry.
She underlined each word of “I am so sorry”.
In your top drawer is a small token of apology. I hope you will find a way to forgive me.
Yours,
