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23
Drew massaged his temple as he listened to B. J. Clark on the other end of the line. He could always tell how upset B. J. was by the speed of his voice. It’s when the Oregonian in him came out.
His partner was speaking so fast Drew could barely catch the words, which did not bode well for Trident.
“Do I need to come up to New York?” Drew asked.
B. J.’s deep sigh came through the phone. “I think we can handle this remotely. But you, me, and Melissa need to get on this, and fast. I’ve set up a meeting for tonight. We have to do this on Tokyo time.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Drew said. He tried to hide his annoyance, butfuck!
This would make two nights in a row that he wouldn’t be able to spend time with London. How had he become so addicted to having her near that two nights away gave rise to such agony?
“We need to strategize before the call,” B. J. pointed out.
“Melissa is meeting with the contact in Kansas City right now, but let’s conference as soon as she’s done. We are not losing this account to Meacham,” Drew said.
“Damn right we aren’t,” B. J. said. “I’ll fly to Tokyo myself if I have to.”
“We’ll do our best to convince them to go with Trident without anyone having to go wheels up. But keep your passport handy—just in case.”
Drew disconnected the call with B. J. and immediately went in search of London. He’d heard mumblings through the hospital grapevine about some incident that happened earlier between her and another doctor. He figured it was Coleman, but he didn’t bother to seek out more info. He wanted to hear it directly from her.
Drew knocked on her door and was relieved to hear her call for him to come in from the other side.
“Hey,” Drew greeted. She looked past her computer monitor and smiled.
Goodness.
It still struck him as unbelievable that London Kelley directed smiles like that his way. It was a smile straight out of his adolescent dreams.
“I heard you had yourself a morning,” Drew said as he closed the door behind him.
“Nothing but gossips around here.” She rolled her eyes. “Last I heard, I had to be hooked up to an IV.”
His footsteps halted after two steps. “An IV? I thought you got into a fistfight with Frederick Coleman? Why would you need an IV?”
“The gossip is worse than I thought.” She motioned for him to sit down. “Give me just a minute,” she said, returning to her computer. She finished up whatever she had been working on, then rolled her chair a few inches to the right and folded her hands on her desk. “First, it wasn’t Frederick Coleman, it was another resident, Peter Foster from Oncology. And it wasn’t a fistfight that took me out, it was a dizzy spell. Nearly put me on my ass right there in the Jungle Room.”
Drew’s chest instantly grew tight. “Are you okay?”
“I feel fine,” London said. She glanced to the side, then back at him. “My blood pressure was slightly elevated.”
“Stress?” he asked.
“Definitely a factor,” she answered. “And hypertension runs in the family on my dad’s side.” She pushed her fingers through her thick hair. “I’m being forced to take a short leave.”
“Can they force you to take time off?”
“It was strongly suggested and…well, it’s probably for the best. Doesn’t mean I won’t lose my mind, but it’s starting to feel like I’m halfway there already. How much worse can it get, right?”
In all the time he’d known her, Drew had never seen London so off balance. She was self-assured to a fault. He usually found that confidence sexy as hell, but this touch of uncertainty didn’t look bad on her. It made her seem more approachable—more human.
“How long is this forced leave?” he asked.
“A week,” she answered.
“A week? You’re complaining about a week off?”
