“Okay then,” he finally says.
“Why were you checking on her, sir?” It’s the one thought that has been ghosting through my mind.
He falls quiet again, but I know he heard me because he hasn’t ended the call. “Because of Kelly Flink, Gary Goodman, Andre Bastly, Dominic Gaffney . . . I can keep going with the names. Those are all my Ivy’s, Slade. Those are all the patients who burrowed under my skin so deeply that after thirty years of practicing medicine, I still remember their names. I still have every detail of their case file memorized. All good doctors have those cases. All good doctors hold on too tightly at one time or another.”
Emotion tightens my throat, and I have to take a second before I can manage to say, “Thank you, sir.”
“For what?” He chuckles. “For reminding you that you’re human? For letting you know that if a patient didn’t get to you every now and again, I wouldn’t want you as my doctor?” He pauses. “I’m impressed with your work so far. I know I’ll be impressed with your work going forward when this matter clears itself up.”
“Thank you, sir,” I repeat before the call ends.
The shrieks of laughter break through the quiet of the trees. There are whoops and bursts of giggles.
Distracted, I find the owners of the voices right as the women come into view about a hundred feet in front of me. Fully clothed and led by none other than Blakely, they jog down the dock closest to our cabin and jump into the water. One after another. Cue more laughter and splashing.
The sight of them makes me smile.
Who am I kidding, Dr. Schultz’s words are partially why I’m smiling, but everything about what I’m watching is too.
Even better, it was Blakely who led the charge.
I don’t realize I’ve moved down the beach toward them until I hear someone clear their throat behind me. Turning, I find Heather standing there, arms over her chest, a look of disdain highlighting her face.
“Why aren’t you joining them?” I ask.
“She literally just stood up near the end of the meeting and said, ‘Do you know what we need? We need a water break!’ and bolted out the door with everyone following. Literally, every single one of them.”
“Except you.”
Her eyes flicker over to me. “I’m the boss. I can’t be doing that.”
But she wants to. Oh, how she wants to. I can see it in her eyes. The need to be liked. The want to be adored. The desperation to be followed the same way Blakely just was.
I don’t know how much younger Heather is than me, but she sure as hell missed the life lesson about leading by example. That, sometimes, it’s okay to bend the rules and have fun. That respect and admiration can be won through kindness.
“Sure you can,” I say. “Just because you’re the boss doesn’t make you any better than them, it just means you have more responsibility at times.”
“You obviously don’t know what I do.” Her insecurity reigns in the comment. Her need to prove she’s worthy of her position. Of her pay. Of their respect. I’ve watched it all week and don’t know how no one else sees it.
Then again, maybe they do but can’t exactly confront their boss about it.
But I can.
I’m not employed by Glam.
She emits a sound of disapproval as Blakely climbs up the side of the dock and then jumps in again like a little kid, cannonball and all.
“She doesn’t want your job, you know.”
“No one ever said she did,” she snaps.
“But, in your mind, she’s a threat to you when she really isn’t.”
“Why would I be threatened by her?”
“Because she’s damn good at her job, and she has every board member on her side. If you were a team, if you supported her for this promotion, you know she’d have your back with them going forward. With someone else? Who knows what would happen. Plus—look at them.” I motion to the women playing in the water like kids with her. “You have a team who looks up to her. They respect her because she respects them. If you do the same, they’ll respect you too.”
“They do respect me.”
“Fear and respect aren’t the same thing.”
She snorts. It’s her immature way of saying she isn’t sure how to refute me but wants to do it on principle anyway.
“I’m sure you’re every bit as talented and skilled in your own way, but having it and knowing how to use it to motivate people are two different things.”
“You’re out of line—”
“I beg to differ.” I turn to look at her. “My telling you to figure out how to accept Blakely’s experience is a whole hell of a lot better than letting you get sued for age discrimination and harassment after you force her out.” My smile is quick and the shake of my head subtle. “I’m pretty sure I know who the board would side with on that one. I mean, they offered your job to her before you, right?”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now from the glare she’s leveling at me, but I meet it with a half-cocked smirk.
“Slade!” Blakely is out of the water and walking toward us. Her clothes are clinging to her body, and she’s leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her as she heads my way.
But it’s the smile on her face that has me moving toward her without giving Heather and our conversation a second thought.
Because that smile is the most alive it’s been since I’ve met her.
“Inciting a riot, I see?” I ask before picking her up, soaking clothes and all, and holding her against me.
Yep, her eyes are even better this close.
She laughs. “I was being spontaneous.”
“Look out world, Blakely Foxx just might have found herself.”
“And I’m not finished quite yet,” she whispers.
“A full-fledged rebel.” I press my lips to hers, not caring who’s around to see the kiss I give her.
