Rowan appeared in the doorway thirty seconds later, eyebrows hiked somewhere near their hairline. “So,” they said. “That was the legendary handsome Dr. Cole Vaughn.”
“It was.” I sighed, smiling, and went back to my chair.
Rowan grinned. “Damn, girl. Now I understand why you’ve been glowing.”
“I’m going to need you to pretend you didn’t see him kissing me, though I know you were watching because you’re nosy.”
“See what? Already forgotten.” They turned to leave, then paused. “But if someone happens to update the RMC employee group chat, it wasn’t me.”
My jaw dropped. “Oh shit. Don’t tell me you’re on that.”
“I plead the fifth. I’ll just say…everyone already knows there’s something going on between you two. It’s all over your faces. There’s a pool on when you’d go public. Pretty sure I just won a smooth hundred dollars.”
“That should not be fair,” I yelled as they scooted out of my office, laughing. “That’s insider trading!”
* * *
I’d arranged to meet Diane Hart at two o’clock. Alone. I guided her to one of our nicer guest lounges, got her a cup of coffee, and settled next to her on the couch.
This time, things felt different. Less like a battlefield.
She sat next to me, her hands folded on her lap. She was so small and contrite without her attorney. There was no entourage, just a woman who’d lost someone she loved.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” she said. “Especially considering…”
“Of course, Mrs. Hart. I’m glad we could touch base.”
She nodded, looking down at her hands. “I needed to apologize. To you and especially to Dr. Vaughn. I was angry and grieving and already feeling guilty about my grandfather. My husband, Eric—his side of the family are all attorneys. They resolve everything in a courtroom. I was upset and feeling soguilty about not being there. Eric’s solution was to assign one of his attorneys to step in and it was simply the wrong choice.”
“Mrs. Hart?—”
“Please, let me finish.” She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but clear. “My grandfather was all I had left. My parents are both gone. His wife has been gone for some time. Over the past few years, he’s become difficult to care for at home, and Brookside was the only care facility that would take him. I knew he was on borrowed time, the aneurysm was just the thing that finally took him. But I couldn’t accept that. I needed it to be someone’s fault. I needed there to be a villain.”
I stayed quiet, letting her talk.
“Dr. Vaughn tried to save him, I understood that. But more than that…” She swallowed hard. “My grandfather would have hated what I was doing. He would have been ashamed that I was trying to destroy a good Black doctor’s career because I couldn’t deal with my own feelings. My own guilt.”
“Guilt?”
“I was at a spa when he died, drinking champagne and eating fattening food and gossiping with rich women who have nothing better to do with their time or money. I didn’t hear the phone because it wasn’t even on.”
Her voice cracked. “I felt terrible that I wasn’t there with him in his last moments. Eric convinced me that someone else had to be responsible. Because if it wasn’t Dr. Vaughn’s fault, then it was mine for not being there.”
The raw and honest truth was out there, laid bare between us.
“You couldn’t have known,” I said quietly.
“No. But I should have been there anyway.” She wiped her eyes. “I’ve withdrawn the complaint. And I’m writing a letter of apology to Dr. Vaughn. It won’t undo what I put him through, but it’s a start.”
“That’s very generous of you. I know he’ll appreciate hearing from you.”
“It’s the least I can do.” She stood, gathering her purse. “Thank you, Ms. Sutton. For being honest with me. For not just telling me what I wanted to hear.”
After she left, I went back to my office, thinking heavily about grief and blame and the stories we tell ourselves to survive loss. Then I picked up my phone and texted Cole.
Me:
Diane Hart came by. She apologized. It’s really over.
