and no more country club.
Most of Rex’s friends had turned their backs on him because they’d no longer had anything in common. What had really hurt, though, had been the girl he’d been in love with ending their relationship. When he’d been snubbed by country club snobs, she’d declared they had no future. He wasn’t enough for her. So much for love.
Rex had promised himself then that he’d never judge someone by where they lived or what they drove, neither would he ever put on pretensions of wealth and social status to impress again. He was who he was. People could like him or not. That was one of the reasons he wore a T-shirt, jeans and boots to work. He might be a well-paid physician, but his open, honest lifestyle had nothing to do with his salary, his brain or his skills in the OR. He would not tolerate pretense in his life.
Forcing his attention back to the dilemma Dr. Nelson had just created for him, he decided that during this new PR push he’d just lie low and concentrate on his patients. Refuse to get any more involved than he absolutely had to. He had nothing to prove to anyone and nothing to hide.
The moment Rex sighed, satisfied with his decision, Nelson punched a button and told his assistant to send in Ms. Romano.
* * *
Tiffani Romano waited apprehensively in the outer office of the administrator. She’d already seen Dr. Nelson but he’d asked her to wait while he spoke to Dr. Maxwell in private, then he would introduce them.
When her boss at Whitlock Public Relations had asked her into his office and explained that Metropolitan Hospital wanted to hire the firm to improve their image she had been excited that he was putting her in charge of the job. Tiffani saw this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to advance in the company. Success in the campaign would give her the two things she desperately wanted—a promotion that would move her to the corporate office in another city and the chance to no longer encounter Lou, her ex-boyfriend, daily.
The only glitch was that she had no respect for the medical community. She knew from personal experience that doctors were only interested in themselves and cared little about the patients whose lives they ruined instead of healed.
When she’d been a child her father had been crippled in a motorcycle accident and he had lost one leg completely and part of another, condemning him to a wheelchair. The situation had made him a very bitter man. To this day, he insisted the doctors had done nothing to save his lower limbs. With his lack of mobility had gone his desire for life—his only joy to be found at the bottom of a bottle or in the comfort of prescription drugs. These tragedies had been underscored by his sullenness, all making it impossible for him to hold down a job.
Her mother had supported her father’s vendetta. Suffering through her father’s recovery and attitude about his life, the lawsuit he’d pursued against the physicians and hospital, and having little money, she had been almost as unpleasant as her husband. She’d soon divorced Tiffani’s father and the once happy household had changed to one of permanent misery. Nothing had been the same after that fateful day.
Her father still complained about how he had been mistreated. Today he was wasting away at an assisted living home, spending more of his time in bed than out. It made Tiffani miserable to visit him and see him like that, but he was her father and she loved him.
Would Dr. Maxwell, with whom she’d have to work closely, be any different than the doctors who had destroyed her father? From what she had read and seen on the news about the malpractice case, she’d believed Maxwell guilty. Nevertheless, he’d been cleared of all charges. She wasn’t surprised. Like all physicians, she was sure he’d played God with someone’s life with no thought to what would happen to the patient afterward, or the effects on the family. Her father lived in pain daily because of hasty decisions and half-efforts his doctors had made. Though her father had survived, unlike Maxwell’s victim, his life and the lives of his family had been destroyed.
Regardless of Dr. Maxwell’s devil-may-care attitude, his surgical success rate was above average. That could be used to her advantage if she could keep him in check long enough to achieve the “you-can-trust-me” crusade she envisioned. Her intense month-long strategy was to boldly make him the face people associated with the hospital. It was an ambitious plan and she had no time for indecisiveness or uncertainty.
She would keep her opinions on the medical field to herself and convince him that it was in his best interest, and the hospital’s, to cooperate with her plans. The board expected positive results and she intended to deliver. Doing so was too important to both her career goals and her sanity.
She gripped the business satchel lying on her lap tighter. The merest hope of never again seeing Lou’s smug face fueled her determination. Unfortunately, fate had chosen Dr. Maxwell as the key to making that flickering hope her reality.
A young doctor walked past without glancing at Tiffani and sidled up to Dr. Nelson’s assistant’s desk. With a warm smile, he asked for permission to see Dr. Nelson.
Tiffani surmised the tall, tan man wearing the green scrubs with cheerfully bright headwear over long dark hair bound at the nap of his neck was her soon-to-be PR project, Dr. Maxwell. Despite her distaste for his profession she couldn’t deny that he was attractive. In fact, he might be the most interesting man she had ever seen. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by that, though, he was still a doctor.
Ten minutes later, Dr. Nelson’s assistant caught her attention and said he was ready to see her. Entering the office with confidence, Tiffani saw Dr. Nelson still seated behind his desk and the doctor in scrubs slumped in a chair with his hands in his lap. She could feel defiance radiating from him even though his expression was professionally polite.
Dr. Nelson stood, arms wide and palms up. “Come in, come in, Ms. Romano. I’d like you to meet Dr. Rex Maxwell.”
The doctor had the good manners to stand and extend his hand. His long fingers circled hers. The clasp was firm, warm. His dark brown eyes searched hers intently for a moment before he released her hand.
“Please, both of you, sit down,” Dr. Nelson said, taking his seat again.
Tiffani took the chair beside the doctor. He glanced at her before turning those sharp eyes on Dr. Nelson, who said, “I’ve explained the situation to Dr. Maxwell and he’s willing to give you his full support.”
Dr. Maxwell shifted in his seat. She glanced at him. His attention seemed focused on a small statue on the shelf behind Dr. Nelson’s desk. He didn’t look pleased.
The older man continued as if he hadn’t noticed. “Both of you are professionals. I know you’ll handle this project discreetly. With great aplomb. I expect a report in a week that I can give the board.” He paused to look at each of them. “I’m here to help and I look forward to this being a meaningful, productive and very successful project. Please, call on me if there are any issues.”
Dr. Maxwell stood, passing behind her chair on his way out. He was already in the hallway before Tiffani could gather her purse and bag. She looked at Nelson but he merely watched as she raced after the most important element to her plan. Her timetable required transforming her ideas into reality right away. That meant immediately getting better acquainted with Dr. Maxwell. He, however, was a good way down the long hall and using a stride she found difficult to match.
She called his name but he didn’t slow or even look back as he briskly continued. The rapid tap, tap, tap of her heels echoed off the walls so he had to know she was behind him. As he slowed in front of a closed elevator door she finally caught up and grabbed his arm. To her amazement, he looked surprised to see her and glanced at where her hand rested.
Tiffani released him and said breathlessly, “I’ve been trying to get your attention since we left Dr. Nelson’s office.”
“I have a patient waiting.” He pushed the button for the elevator again. The doors opened.
“We need to talk. I have plans to implement.”
He stepped into the elevator, his gaze meeting hers.
She pursed her lips, hitched