social niceties and cut to the chase.”
He scanned the table at large, and although his gaze this time settled on her only briefly, Olivia thought she detected a sympathetic gleam in his eyes. “At your last meeting, Dr. Harte made clear the dire need for new equipment in CCU. You waived making a decision on whether or not to support his request for help in raising the funds required until you’d had time to study the feasibility of such an undertaking. I’m here now as his representative to find out your answer.”
Such a direct approach allowed for little equivocation on the part of the committee, particularly not with his unblinking stare dissecting every face as decisively as a laser beam. Even Daphne squirmed a little, and couldn’t wait to pass the buck elsewhere.
“You’re the one who’s done the research on this, Olivia,” she said. “Are we going to be able to assist, and if so, how?”
“We’ve already pledged support to other departments,” she began, wondering how she’d managed to make her voice sound so calmly confident when her insides were in a total uproar. “And I recommend that we honor those first, but—”
“Which departments, Olivia?” Grant inquired.
“Maternity and the Outpatient Clinic, for a start, but—”
“Their situations aren’t as critical.”
“No, they aren’t. But under the circumstances, I feel that—”
“How you feel isn’t the issue,” he said tersely. “We’re talking about saving lives here. With all due respect, childbirth is a normal function which the female body is superbly designed to deal with, and most deliveries are free of complications—”
“But not all of them, Dr. Madison,” she cut in, any inclination she might have harbored to view him in a more kindly light fast disappearing. “Although you can be forgiven for having forgotten that, since it’s never been an area of particular interest to you.”
For a second or two they locked gazes, and she knew from the faint flush that ran under his skin that he recognized the private condemnation behind her remark. But he recovered quickly and overrode it so thoroughly she might as well have saved herself the bother of airing it. “I don’t wish to be offensive, but you’re scarcely qualified to determine priorities here. The Outpatient Clinic, by definition, is not an acute care facility. Anyone requiring round-the-clock supervision would be admitted to one of the wards.”
She laid down her pen and said very distinctly, “I know.”
“I don’t think you do, since you’re clearly unable to view the matter with any kind of objectivity. You need to consult an expert before you—”
“Dr. Madison,” she interrupted, taking great pleasure in cutting him off for a change, “I don’t presume to tell you how to do your job. I’d appreciate it if you’d afford me the same professional courtesy and not try telling me how to do mine. Now, if I may continue?”
He gave a condescending little smile, as though she were a child he had to humor. “Please do.”
She could have choked him! “Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome.”
Aaagh! Fairly spitting out the words, she went on, “I have completed an exhaustive study of the various proposals put forward by the members of this committee, and it is my recommendation that we divert existing funds to those departments who’ve already appealed to us for help. That would leave us free to direct the proceeds of our next major fundraiser to the Cardiac Unit.”
“Would it, indeed?” he said, in a somewhat more deferential tone. “I see.”
But she was in no mood to be conciliatory when he’d done his best to belittle her in front of her colleagues. “You’d have seen a lot sooner if you’d had the good manners to let me finish a sentence without interruption.”
“I stand corrected,” he said, bathing her in his most charming smile. “Would it be out of line for me to ask how soon this major fundraising event will take place?”
“In August,” she snapped, aware that no one was missing a syllable of their exchange and that to continue the battle of one-upmanship was not only likely to end in defeat for her, but would also add to the gossip already circulating. “At the hospital’s annual carnival.”
“Carnival…? Oh, of course, that day-long shindig culminating in the Sunflower Ball! How could I have forgotten?”
How indeed, since the only one he’d attended had been during those hungry pre-wedding days when they hadn’t been able to get enough of each other, and, while everyone else had been sipping wine between waltzes, he’d whisked her out from under her father’s nose and spent most of the evening making love to her in the rose arbor at the Country Club!
“Very easily, I’m sure,” she said, stuffing her papers into her briefcase as everyone else began drifting toward the coffee urn set up on a trolley at the far end of the room. “But if you care to have your memory refreshed…” she indicated Daphne, hovering expectantly well within earshot “…speak to Mrs. Jerome, here. She chairs the social end of things and I don’t doubt she’d be delighted to fill you in on the details. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
Dismissing him with a nod, she slid a sheet of paper across the table to Daphne. “Here’s a list of our latest sponsors, which I’ll leave for you to present to the others when the meeting reconvenes. If any other names come up, you can let me know later.”
“Aren’t you staying for coffee, dear?”
“Not today. I have another meeting to attend.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Grant said.
Plainly disappointed that the circus was over for the day, Daphne said, “What a pity you both have to leave, just when we’re about to take a social break. But I suppose you’d prefer to be alone to catch up on each other’s doings?”
“Not at all,” Olivia said stonily. “Dr. Madison and I no longer share anything in common, at least not on a personal level, so by all means feel free to enjoy his company.”
Deciding that was about as good an exit line as she could come up with, she made a beeline for the door.
He wasn’t about to be shaken off so easily, however. She’d barely left the room before he came striding out after her. “Just a minute, Olivia. You and I need to get a few things straight.”
But she’d had enough for one day, and when she saw the green arrow light up above the polished brass doors of the elevator at the end of the hall, she seized her chance to escape another lecture.
“Some other time, Doctor,” she said breezily, and, sprinting forward, managed to squeeze into the crowded car just before the doors slid shut in his face.
That afternoon, the temperature shot up into the low nineties. Not even the breeze off the river was enough to stir the air, and by the time Olivia got home, shortly after five, her smart linen suit was clinging to her like warm, limp lettuce.
Dropping her briefcase on the hall table, she propped open both front and back doors, flung wide all the windows, and hauled herself upstairs,
