Gogenheim wants to see you as soon as you get in this morning,” Carrie was saying as Gage shook his head to rid himself of the memories of his father.
“Really? I didn’t see anything on my calendar,” he replied. “I planned to reach out to that research facility in Paris before their offices close for the day when I get in.”
“I recall you mentioning that yesterday when we spoke. However, Dr. Gogenheim’s assistant just called to see if you were in yet. I told her you were on your way.”
“I am,” Gage said just before a driver slammed on the brakes, subsequently causing the cars behind him to do the same.
Those were the glorious sounds of a morning during rush-hour traffic. When the noise subsided, he continued. “Fine, I’ll go right up to his office, but please have the number and the name of a contact person at the facility in Paris on my desk for when I return.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get that information now.”
“Thank you, and, Carrie?”
“Yes, sir, I hadn’t gone down to get your Caffè Americano yet. I’ll wait about half an hour. It will be on your desk when you finish with Dr. Gogenheim.”
Gage smiled. “Thanks, Carrie.”
He’d never been a morning person. To survive undergrad, med school and residency required the strongest coffee possible. Luckily for him, there was a Starbucks on the ground floor of the medical center. Gage showed his appreciation for Carrie going the extra mile to get his coffee by opening a credit account with the barista and paying them monthly for all drinks and any other items that he and Carrie ordered.
After disconnecting the call, Gage scrolled through some of the emails he’d missed in the last couple of days because he’d spent the weekend at a colleague’s house in the Hamptons. He had been attending, of all things, a baby shower.
Gage approached the hospital minutes later and walked through the revolving glass doors. His honey-colored burnished leather wingtip lace-up Tom Ford shoes clicked against the polished floors as he made his way through the lobby and down the hall toward the elevators that would lead to the obstetrics and gynecology floors. He slipped his phone into his suit jacket pocket just before stepping into the elevator. When he heard someone yelling, “Hold the elevator!” he extended his arm so that his briefcase kept the door from closing.
“Thanks,” the woman, dressed in light blue scrubs, said as she made her way into the compartment and pressed the floor she needed.
“No problem,” Gage said and returned the smile she was so eagerly offering.
As the elevator began to move, he thought of how pretty she was, with her dark brown hair pulled back from her face and green eyes twinkling each time she looked up at him. He could ask her out, but he’d decided a long time ago that the quick, no-commitment type of interaction he preferred to have with women didn’t bode well in the workplace.
The elevator stopped on her floor, and before she stepped off, she turned back to look at him. “Have a great day, Dr. Taylor.”
Her arm extended, and Gage looked down at the business card she held in her hand. He immediately accepted the card and wished her a great day, as well. When the doors closed and he was alone, Gage looked down at the card, a smile ghosting his face.
“Miranda,” he said and continued to read the words on the card as the elevator moved again.
She was a radiologist on the third floor. And she was hot. He tucked the card into the side of his briefcase and stepped off the elevator when it opened on his floor. He wasn’t going to call her, Gage told himself. Regardless of how good she looked. He had rules, and he had learned the hard way that it was best to stick to them, always.
“Good morning, Dr. Taylor. Dr. Gogenheim is waiting for you,” the receptionist said when he stopped in front of her. “Just go on back to his office.”
“Thank you,” Gage replied with a nod.
He was known throughout the hospital, a fact that should have bothered him considering he despised his family’s notoriety. But this was different. Gage’s recognition at the hospital came primarily from being a talented doctor who brought huge research grants to the facility and added to their already stellar reputation. The Taylors of Temptation, on the other hand, had commercialized a serious health condition for thousands of couples, and topped that off with a very public betrayal of marriage vows and desertion of a family. It had been the beginning of the worst years of Gage’s life.
Thankfully, that was then and this was now.
He gave a quick knock and then entered the office. Mortimer Gogenheim sat behind his desk, his thinning black hair brushed neatly to one side of his head, thick framed glasses perched on his nose.
“Good morning, Gage. Take a seat,” he said.
Gage nodded and moved to sit in one of the guest chairs across from the sleek, dark wood desk. “Good morning,” Gage replied. “I was surprised you wanted to see me so early. I thought the board meeting was scheduled for this morning.”
Which was why he hadn’t scheduled anything on his personal or business calendar. Gage wanted to be available the moment the board of directors decided he would become the youngest chief of obstetrics at the medical center. With all the research work he’d done this year, coupled with the latest grant that would fund the department’s research labs for the next three years, he was a shoo-in for the position. At least that’s what Mortimer had told him a couple of months ago. After that conversation, Gage was elated that his dream was about to become a reality, much sooner than he had ever anticipated.
“We had the meeting last night over dinner. My son-in-law received a job offer in Europe, so my daughter announced two weeks ago that they were moving over there. My wife was beside herself with worry at not being able to see the grandkids. So I’m stepping down sooner than I’d planned because we’re going to move over there with them,” Mortimer said as he sat forward, letting his arms rest on the desk.
Gage nodded. “Family first,” he said. “I understand.”
He did understand that concept, even if he didn’t have a wife and kids of his own. Outside of his job, Gage only had his family. His five siblings—Gray, Garrek, Gemma, Genevieve “Gen” and Gia—who lived in different areas of the United States. They’d grown up in a tight-knit household, and even though distance separated them, they’d tried to remain as close as their mother always wanted.
“Good,” Mortimer told him with a nod. “So I’ll get right to the point.”
Gage sat up straighter in the chair and thought about how his sisters were going to react when they heard the news. His oldest brother, Gray, was an overachiever himself, becoming one of the first African American billionaires to own and operate his own electronics company before he turned thirty. And Garrek was an exceptional navy pilot who was steadily moving up in the ranks. They were both tenacious and goal-oriented, just like Gage. His sisters each had stellar careers, as well. Gemma owned an upscale beauty salon in Washington, DC, while Gen ran her own software development company, and Gia worked as an executive chef at one of Chicago’s swankiest restaurants.
He’d call Gemma first, he decided as he nodded and stared expectantly at Mortimer. She would never let him live it down if he didn’t.
“The chief position is going to Edgar Rodenstein. He’s been in this field for more than thirty years, and he’s worked with the medical director before. In fact, Bart was the one who recommended Edgar for the job. So we’re confident that the transition will be smooth. You, on the other hand, well, we’re extremely happy with the work you’ve been doing in infertility and multiple birth research. We’d like you to continue in that vein, and we will possibly entertain a chief researcher position for you in the future.”
Gage was stunned. The calm and relaxed feeling he’d had only moments ago as he’d stepped off the elevator had dissipated. It was now replaced with a sick feeling that