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I stuck close to him, but not too close. I wanted to hold his hand, or show any sign of affection, but I knew we couldn’t, especially not here of all places. “Recognize anyone?” I asked.
“That old guy at the bar,” he said, indicating a frog-like gentleman with bright white hair and a scowl. “He’s a donor. Don’t know his name.”
“Go say hello.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Piers. It’s the reason you’re here. Will he know you?”
“Probably.”
“Then go.”
He gave me a pained look. “I’m getting a drink if I have to go over there.”
“Go ahead, just don’t overdo it.”
He grunted in response and stalked off. I watched him go with a smile, feeling like I just released a captive condor back into the wild. He leaned up against the bar next to the frog-like man and struck up a conversation, and though I couldn’t hear what they were saying, he frog man looked surprised, but delighted.
I headed into the ballroom. It was packed with people, most of them older, though I recognized some from the hospital. I wasn’t sure what the charity was for, some sort of cancer, I couldn’t tell from the signage, and it didn’t really matter. These things weren’t about the cause, though of course the money was always appreciated.
No, events like this were about the hospital admins pimping themselves out to the wealthiest people in the city in the hopes that they’d get a few thousand more dollars out of them. I drifted over toward an open bar at the far side of the room and got a gin and tonic. I sipped it, and marveled at the empty dance floor, the empty stage, the long red drapes hanging over the walls. Nobody seemed interested in anything but socializing, and that was fine with me.
Piers entered the room a few minutes later. I thought about going up to him, but a group of older men and women beat me to it. He smiled at them, gestured with his drink, and said something that made them all laugh. I watched, a strange sense of pride spreading through me.
He was trying. He hated this, but he was trying. We both agreed this sort of thing was going to be necessary—he had to go above and beyond simply being nicer at work at this point. He was too far down the rabbit hole, and only drastic measures might help.
Besides, these people in this room, they could be useful. The Tippett family likely had some representative somewhere, but beyond them, there were other powerful people that could help. I wasn’t sure if he would actually form any alliances, but it was a start.
“Dr. Court?”
I looked to my right, surprised to hear my name. Gina stood nearby, wearing a simple black dress, diamond studs in her ears. She looked ten years younger outside of the hospital.
“Hello, Gina,” I said.
She smiled a little, uncertain and confused as she joined me. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Which meant she thought I didn’t belong.
“Piers brought me,” I said.
Her eyes went wide. “He’s here?” Then she laughed. “Or did he force you to come in his stead?”
“He’s here,” I said, gesturing toward him. “Seems to be enjoying himself.”
Gina stood in stunned silence and watched as Piers told another joke, and got another warm laugh from his growing crowd of admirers.
“What the hell?” Gina asked softly, shaking her head. “He never comes to this stuff. I asked him about it once, and he told me, and I’m quoting now, charity galas are for rich old assholes to spread their assholes and let everyone get a good peek. I don’t know, it’s a crude metaphor and doesn’t make sense, but he said it.”
I shook my head. “Sounds like him.”
“And now he’s here.” She gave me an appraising look. “What did you do?”
I decided a little honesty might help us out here, and besides, I didn’t feel like lying about everything. “I told him what you told me.”
She grimaced slightly. “I suppose you would.”
“Can you blame me? He didn’t take it well.”
“And yet he’s been relatively good this past week. No complaints, at least.”
“Gina, can I ask you something?”
She shrugged and sipped from her wine glass. “Go ahead. Might as well.”
“Who makes those complaints? Patients?”
“Nurses, usually. Sometimes other doctors.” She pursed her lips. “Rarely patients. Never patients, actually.”
“Doesn’t that say a lot to you?”
“Hospitals aren’t all about patients, unfortunately.” She looked at me over her glass. “It’s a workplace, Lori. If someone acts like an asshole at a normal office, they don’t get to stick around just because they’re good at their job. Assholes get fired.”
“Not when they’re exceptional.”
“Maybe, that’s probably why he’s lasted so long.” She shook her head and watched Piers. “But unfortunately, I’m not sure it’ll help.”
“He’s trying, you know.”
“I see that. I’m guessing you had a hand in convincing him.”
