life and death. When a medical crisis arose, she didn’t wring her hands over what needed to be done; she just did it, automatically. Inside the safe and sterile walls of the operating room, she was in control.
But a courtroom was a different world entirely. That was David Ransom’s territory. He’d be the one in control; she’d be as vulnerable as a patient on the operating table. How could she possibly fend off an attack by the very man who’d built his reputation on the scorched careers of doctors?
She’d never felt threatened by men before. After all, she’d trained with them, worked with them. David Ransom was the first man who’d ever intimidated her, and he’d done it effortlessly. If only he was short or fat or bald. If only she could think of him as human and therefore vulnerable. But just the thought of facing those cold blue eyes in court made her stomach do a panicky flip-flop.
“Looks like you could use some company,” said a familiar voice.
Glancing up, she saw Guy Santini, rumpled as always, peering down at her through those ridiculously thick glasses.
She gave him a listless nod. “Hi.”
Clucking, he pulled up a chair and sat down. “How’re you doing, Kate?”
“You mean except for being unemployed?” She managed a sour laugh. “Just terrific.”
“I heard the old man pulled you out of the O.R. I’m sorry.”
“I can’t really blame it on old Avery. He was just following orders.”
“Bettencourt’s?”
“Who else? He’s labeled me a financial liability.”
Guy snorted. “That’s what happens when the damned M.B.A.’s take over. All they can talk about is profits and losses! I swear, if George Bettencourt could make a buck selling the gold out of patients’ teeth, he’d be roaming the wards with pliers.”
“And then he’d send them a bill for oral surgery,” Kate added morosely.
Neither of them laughed. The joke was too close to the truth to be funny.
“If it makes you feel any better, Kate, you’ll have some company in the courtroom. I’ve been named, too.”
She looked up sharply. “Oh, Guy! I’m sorry….”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’ve been sued before. Believe me, it’s that first time that really hurts.”
“What happened?”
“Trauma case. Man came in with a ruptured spleen and I couldn’t save him.” He shook his head. “When I saw that letter from the attorney, I was so depressed I wanted to leap out the nearest window. Susan was ready to drag me off to the psych ward. But you know what? I survived. So will you, as long as you remember they’re not attacking you. They’re attacking the job you did.”
“I don’t see the difference.”
“And that’s your problem, Kate. You haven’t learned to separate yourself from the job. We both know the hours you put in. Hell, sometimes I think you practically live here. I’m not saying dedication’s a character flaw. But you can overdo it.”
What really hurt was that she knew it was true. She did work long hours. Maybe she needed to; it kept her mind off the wasteland of her personal life.
“I’m not completely buried in my job,” she said. “I’ve started dating again.”
“It’s about time. Who’s the man?”
“Last week I went out with Elliot.”
“That guy from computer programming?” He sighed. Elliot was six-foot-two and one hundred and twenty pounds, and he bore a distinct resemblance to Pee-Wee Herman. “I bet that was a barrel of laughs.”
“Well it was sort of…fun. He asked me up to his apartment.”
“He did?”
“So I went.”
“You did?”
“He wanted to show me his latest electronic gear.”
Guy leaned forward eagerly. “What happened?”
“We listened to his new CDs. Played a few computer games.”
“And?”
She sighed. “After eight rounds of Zork I went home.”
Groaning, Guy sank back in his chair. “Elliot Lafferty, last of the red-hot lovers. Kate, what you need is one of these dating services. Hey, I’ll even write the ad for you. ‘Bright, attractive female seeks—’”
“Daddy!” The happy squeal cut straight through the cafeteria’s hubbub.
Guy turned as running feet pattered toward him. “There’s my Will!” Laughing, he rose to his feet and scooped up his son. It took only a sweep of his arms to send the spindly five-year-old boy flying into the air. Little Will was so light he seemed to float for a moment like a frail bird. He fell to a very soft, very safe landing in his father’s arms. “I’ve been waiting for you, kid,” Guy said. “What took you so long?”
“Mommy came home late.”
“Again?”
Will leaned forward and whispered confidentially. “Adele was really mad. Her boyfriend was s’posed to take her to the movies.”
“Uh-oh. We certainly don’t want Adele to be mad at us, do we?” Guy flashed an inquiring look at his wife Susan, who was threading her way toward them. “Hey, are we wearing out the nanny already?”
“I swear, it’s that full moon!” Susan laughed and shoved back a frizzy strand of red hair. “All my patients have gone absolutely loony. I couldn’t get them out of my office.”
Guy muttered grumpily to Kate, “And she swore it’d be a part-time practice. Ha! Guess who gets called to the E.R. practically every night?”
“Oh, you just miss having your shirts ironed!” Susan reached up and gave her husband an affectionate pat on the cheek. It was the sort of maternal gesture one expected of Susan Santini. “My mother hen,” Guy had once called his wife. He’d meant it as a term of endearment and it had fit. Susan’s beauty wasn’t in her face, which was plain and freckled, or in her figure, which was as stout as a farm wife’s. Her beauty lay in that serenely patient smile that she was now beaming at her son.
“Daddy!” William was prancing like an elf around Guy’s legs. “Make me fly again!”
“What am I, a launching pad?”
“Up! One more time!”
“Later, Will,” said Susan. “We have to pick up Daddy’s car before the garage closes.”
“Please!”
“Did
