do my best.’
Ten minutes later, as J.D. was seated across from Allan Yates in the chief CEO’s office, he was once again reminded of why he hated hospital politics. He preferred sticking to what he knew best—medicine—and leaving the diplomacy and posturing to the statesmen.
However, as Katie had mentioned, his job as chief of Mercer Memorial’s Emergency Services Department included those administrative duties he disliked. He had to play the politicking game—within reason—to get what he wanted.
Right now, he wanted to revamp his department to include the formation of a minor emergency centre—a place where the lesser emergencies could be treated without tying up rooms designed for more critical situations.
As he surveyed the professionally decorated room with its plush carpeting, hand-crafted bookcases and opulent furnishings, he refused to feel inadequate in his clean but comfortable scrubs. He led by action and example, not by decree, and he was proud of it.
Allan cleared his throat, clasped his hands together and placed them on top of his oak desk. ‘You’ve prepared an impressive document, J.D.’
J.D. allowed himself a small smile, although inwardly he was grinning from ear to ear. After months of research, hours of organising facts and figures and a week of waiting for Yates’s summons, the praise was like music to his ears.
‘Thank you.’
‘You realise, however, that another department has also requested the same area to expand their operation. My wife, Candace, has written a thorough proposal, too.’
J.D. didn’t doubt his claim for one second. Candace Yates had had the good fortune to have her husband’s insight in preparing her case.
‘This puts me in quite a dilemma,’ Allan continued. ‘I usually give the board my recommendation—point out the pros and cons—but this time I’m between a rock and a hard place. I’d hate for someone to accuse me of showing favouritism.’
Although J.D. understood the man’s quandary, he douted the sincerity of Allan’s apologetic look. Allan was a personable man in his late forties who possessed a shrewd head for business, but whenever his termagant of a wife wanted something she was rumoured to make his life miserable until he granted her request.
Having seen Candace’s modus operandi at first-hand, J.D. didn’t discount the gossip. After seeing them together on one occasion, he’d been reminded of a nervous Yorkshire terrier yipping at the heels of a placid basset hound. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if anyone had ever summoned the nerve to call her Candy. If they had, he was sure the woman would have breathed fire on the hapless victim.
It was enough to make a man swear off the blessed state of matrimony.
‘I understand your problem,’ J.D. answered smoothly.
‘As I’m sure you also know,’ Allan said, ‘that final decision rests with the hospital’s board of directors.’
‘Yes, I do.’ Part of him sighed in relief that Allan didn’t have the authority to kill his proposal before it received a proper hearing, otherwise, he doubted if an endorsement as high as the Presidential seal of approval would sway Allan’s opinion in the Emergency Department’s favor.
On the other hand, Mercer’s BOD was a formidable bunch. At least three of its members weren’t known to embrace change unless they didn’t have any other viable options. Even so, he’d rather take his chances with them.
Allan leaned back in his chair, making the leather creak under his weight. ‘Would you be interested in some constructive criticism?’
Suddenly wary of the administrator’s motives, J.D. nodded. He couldn’t imagine what vital piece of information he had omitted from his report.
‘The only problem I see with your proposal is…’ He hesitated before he finished. ‘Is you.’
CHAPTER TWO
J.D. HAD prepared himself to counter every possible argument, but Allan’s personal attack left him momentarily speechless. ‘Me?’
Allan nodded. ‘A project of this magnitude requires commitment.’
J.D. forced himself to portray a calmness he didn’t feel. ‘I’ve been researching this idea for the past three months. This isn’t something I dreamed up yesterday.’
‘It’s not the paperwork aspect. The board members might be more inclined to lend their approval if they’re assured of your intentions to see the project to its completion.’
J.D. scoffed as he crossed his arms. ‘Of course I’ll see it through to the end. Why wouldn’t I?’
‘You don’t have any long-lasting ties to our community.’
‘I’ve lived and worked in Mercer for nearly four years,’ J.D. pointed out. ‘I’ve enjoyed living here and don’t have any plans to hunt for a new job.’
‘I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear that, but you’re not married.’
J.D. narrowed his eyes. ‘What bearing does my marital status have on improving our emergency service?’
Allan hesitated. ‘May I be blunt?’
J.D. mentally braced himself. ‘Yes.’
‘We’re all aware of your privileged background,’ Allan began. ‘Living in Mercer, your prospects of finding someone with a similar social standing are slim to none. Since you’ll want to avoid the same situation you found yourself in before…’
J.D. knew he was referring to his ill-fated romance with Ellen. His blood pressure rose.
Allan cleared his throat. ‘I’m sure you’ll choose more wisely next time. In any case, a woman used to the Dallas jet set won’t be satisfied living in Mercer. You wouldn’t be the first man forced to concede to his wife’s wishes.’
‘Aren’t you jumping the gun a little? I don’t have a wife, nor do I have one in mind. And, for the record,’ J.D. said coldly, ‘I don’t intend to get involved with any woman who objects to the location or scope of my medical practice.’
Allan didn’t appear convinced. ‘Be that as it may, if memory serves, you don’t own your home either.’
‘So?’ J.D. didn’t soften the belligerent note in his voice. ‘What’s wrong with renting?’
‘It could be construed as you having no intentions to remain in this community for long. People who own property won’t pick up and move at the first sign of adversity.’
Had Allan forgotten that houses could be sold? J.D. clamped his jaws together to refrain from saying something he might regret later. Suddenly the motivation behind the administrator’s comments became crystal clear.
‘This is about Leland, isn’t it?’ Leland Purdy was a single physician who’d come to Mercer a year ago. An eloquent speaker with enough ideas to turn the world around, he hadn’t stayed long enough to implement the very changes he’d spearheaded. In the meantime, the section heads who’d tried
