“Yes. I’ve already assembled a brief—timeline of events, protocol analysis, everything that shows Dr. Vaughn followed proper procedures.”
“Excellent. Send that to my office as soon as you can. I’ll review everything and we’ll schedule a prep session before your meeting with the Hart family’s attorney. You’ve met her, Ms. Sutton?”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Rachel Gaines, yes. She’s based here in Ridgeway. High-profile, aggressive. She’s positioning this as agrieving family looking for answers, but she’s building leverage, either for a settlement or a lawsuit.”
My gut clenched like a fist. Harper’s fingers found my shoulder, tracing a path down my arm that seemed to say without wordsI’m here, I’ve got you.
I clutched her hand and offered her a smile. “So what happens next?”
“I’ll fly up on Monday. We’ll spend time making sure you’re comfortable with your responses. No surprises, no defensive reactions. We present the facts calmly and let them speak for themselves. The fact that you’re showing up with an attorney is going to send them for a loop.”
“Sounds good.”
“Last thing—and this is critical. No more conversations with hospital administration about this case. That includes Dr. Webb, hospital counsel, anyone except Ms. Sutton. If they try to engage you about it, decline that conversation.”
“I told Cole to keep the fact that he’s retained an attorney under wraps. I don’t want RMC to start building a defense against Cole. They haven’t come out and said they’re trying to tank him, but all arrows point there. I don’t want to give them any leverage.”
“Good thinking, and I agree. And both of you—don’t discuss this case with colleagues. If any press contact you, decline to comment. Then call me.”
The wordpresshit me like a punch. “You think this case would get that kind of attention?”
“It’s possible. The Hart family has money and connections. Gaines knows how to use media pressure. We’re not going to let this play out in the press.”
Harper nodded. “The hospital would rather keep this quiet too. Bad press hurts donations.”
“Dr. Vaughn, your father tells me you’re one of the best trauma surgeons in the area. I don’t doubt it. You saved lives before this case, and you’ll save lives after. We’re going to make sure the Hart family understands that Earl Greene’s death, while tragic, was not the result of negligence or a policy violation.”
“Thank you, Vincent.”
“You’re doing the right thing by getting ahead of this. A lot of physicians wait until it’s too late. Smart move. Talk soon.”
“Well,” Harper said after the line went silent, drawing the word out with a wry twist of her lips, “that was good, actually. He sounds like he’s done this a time or two.”
“Yeah,” I echoed, and felt the word as a physical relief in my chest. “And at least now we have a plan.” I squeezed her hand, which was already resting in mine, our fingers locked.
“I’ll send him everything today. The sooner he can review it all, the better.”
“Thank you,” I said. “For doing this. For putting all that together. And standing up to Dr. Rice and…last night. I mean the documents. Not the food. Or the wine. Or the sex…”
I was rambling and she was laughing at me, her whole body shaking with it.
“You’re welcome for all of it,” she said, pressing a kiss to my chest. “The documents, the food, the wine, and especially the sex.”
“How about for, like…past the sex?” I asked.
“Like what do you mean?” she asked, tilting her head to look at me properly.
“I mean what I said. Past the sex. Friendship and dating and…learning about each other. Exclusively.”
I trailed off, realizing I was venturing into territory we hadn’t really mapped out yet. I didn’t want to go too deep without knowing if she was ready to swim there with me.
“We can talk about that.” She stood, pulling her robe open again and doing a little shimmy for my benefit, then turned toward the bathroom. “Come on, Dr. Vaughn,” she called over her shoulder. “Help me conserve some water.”
Deflection. She wasn’t ready. And that was fine. For now.
There was an intimacy between us already that was more than sex. A personal relationship that superseded professional respect. The care we took with each other both on and off the clock had to be jarring for someone like Harper. She was risking so much to help me. And I could tell she was fighting against what her heart wanted.
We stepped into the shower together. The water ran hot, steam filling the spacious bathroom. Harper pressed her forehead against my chest while I worked conditioner through her hair and massaged her scalp.
