Conflicts of the Heart (26 page)

Peter Sorenson, the president of Senya Bank, a big, florid man, waved a pen in front of him. “I heard you were friends with the woman who represents two eighty-one.

“That's true. We went to school together.”

“When Benson was here, she couldn't get her foot in the door. Does that mean something?”

“I was away when she started her drive. She has the right to have an election if she gets enough support. She has it. I had nothing to do with it.” Dana worked diligently to keep her voice calm. No room for defensiveness here.

“I hope not,” Sorenson added. “So how do we get out of this mess? We can't afford a strike.”

Gil’s and their philosophy didn’t match. What had changed? She didn’t want to advise the board. The consequences could be devastating.

Gil laid a hand on her wrist. “I’d prefer Ms. Claiborne not take a
position. We discussed this matter briefly before this meeting.” He glanced at her, raised an eyebrow, then turned to the board, pausing a long moment. “She advised me to support PNA.”

She felt relieved he backed her. That should dispel any thoughts they may have had about her helping Teal.

“It was my decision to encourage two eighty-one in its efforts to win an election, for the reasons I covered earlier.”

“Why do you want PNA to remain?” Carter Givens asked Dana. The most senior board member had a stiff demeanor, a judgmental expression on his wrinkled face.

She cleared her throat. “Their focus is on the nurses. Local two eighty-one, once in, I believe will go for the whole package. They specialize in clerical and technicians. Ms. DeLuca would love to organize the entire hospital.”

“Are they strong enough?” Givens hunched over the
table. “That would depend on us?”

“Right
now, yes. If we were to set up a better incentive program for raises, improve some of the benefits…. just enough to keep abreast of the community, the employees might not want to make any changes.”

Givens leaned back. “You've been after these things since you started negotiations.” He glanced at Gil, weariness in his steel-gray eyes. “It’d be easy to get a contract if we gave them everything they wanted.” His gaze returned to Dana. “We understood one of your talents was your ability to negotiate a lean contract.”

“What do you mean?” Gil asked.

“Just what I said.
I had a feeling something was amiss when we were forced to go into mediation.”

Dana gripped the edge of the table. Her face grew hot with humiliation.

Sal Morton, a young man with high cheekbones and large eyes, the newest board member--came on a month after Dana--waved his hand. “Excuse me, gentlemen. Aren't we the ones who've tied the lady's hands? Seems to me, correct me if I'm wrong, you can't get a new contract by taking things away, and not adding anything to the pot.”

Givens pushed himself away from the table and rose. “Gentlemen,
I think we should excuse the lady and talk about this amongst ourselves.”

Dana turned to Gil. His head was down. He rolled his thumbs over one another, the way he always did after being put on the defensive.

He laid a hand on Dana’s shoulder. “What would it take to settle PNA's contract?”

Givens leaned toward Dana and Gil. “I was under the impression you were one of the best in your field. Let's hear what you've got.”

Dana spoke in a deliberate tone. “I'd give them access. Organized access.”

Every board member straightened.

“It won't cost a thing. More work for security and me if PNA abuses the agreement. Patrick Mitchell might forget a closed shop.” She followed a hunch, counting on Patrick to bite.

Givens settled back in his seat. “What makes you think so?”

“He knows our position on a closed shop. Union access is second best. He can get to employees more easily, yet he'll still be under our control.”

“We need to talk about this.” Givens tallied the other board members for their reaction.

A few shrugged; a few shook their heads; a few nodded.

“That's all we need for the moment. We can discuss this further by ourselves.”

Gil rose. “Thank you. That'll be all. I'll see you before you leave for mediation this afternoon.”

Depressed, she left the boardroom, feeling the pangs of inadequacy she’d felt when she and Joel spilt up and she was out on her own for the first time in her life. Her job was the one solid thing she had. If she didn’t get a contract, that, too, would be in jeopardy. To get through the day, she had to put a cap on the fear of losing her job. Ten minutes at a time.

She went straight to her office without saying anything to anyone. She shut the door, went into her private restroom, and plunked herself down on the toilet seat. She stared into the enamel sink, wishing she could wash her troubles down the drain. Then one cold, lucid thought engulfed her: survival.

Dana took three deep breaths, returned to her desk and picked up the picture of Michael embracing a beach ball bigger than he was at the time. She rubbed the glass over his cheek with her index finger.
“Michael, I’ll always be here for you.” The thought of him going off with Joel left her feeling as though she were suffocating. Michael wasn’t ready to be separated from her. Joel didn’t know Michael's needs. She dropped her forehead into her palms and fought back the tears.

Ann knocked. “May I come in?”

Dana looked up. “Yes. I could use a friend right now.”

“You look wiped out.
The board that hard on you?” Dana didn’t respond.

“Uh-oh.
That bad?”

“That bad!
On top of that, my ex wants Michael for the weekend.”

“God.
You're not going to do it, are you?”

“I don't think so. I have to call my attorney.”

“I thought Joel had trouble relating to Michael.”

“That's an understatement. He's mercurial around his son. Joel's trying to get at me. He wants me to drop my case. He knows I'm defenseless when it comes to Michael.”

Ann reached across the desk and took Dana's hands in hers. “If there's anything I can do, let me know. I really feel for you. Call me at home, even if you just want to talk. Day or night.”

“I might do that.” Dana rose and sat on the edge of her desk. A new warmer Ann reached out to her in a comforting way Dana needed.

“I thought when I moved back to Ashton I'd be inundated with old friends. I even thought my mother and I would patch things up and develop a real relationship. Was I ever wrong? “

Ann's eyebrows arched. “Sometimes they say you can't go back. Maybe this was one of those times.” She got up and stood next to Dana. “So why don't you start over right here. Forget all those could've
beens. Start making some wanna-bes. I wanna be first in line.”

“You were distant with me when I first came here.”

“For sure.”
Ann laughed. “Heard too many horror stories about working for a woman, but you've been the best boss I've ever had. Hell, you've even convinced me that I should have your job when you get bumped up or decide to leave.”

“You learn fast, my friend. You're ready, now. The way things are going, you may get your chance.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Maria called out from her desk. “Hargrove wants you, Dana.”

She glanced at her watch. “Damn. I wanted to call my attorney. Unless it’s an emergency, tell him that I have to make a couple of important calls and then I’ll be down.”

She ended her meeting with Ann. “Would you mind shutting the door on your way out?”

Ann smiled. “Thank you for believing in me.” She gave Dana the thumbs-up signal as she left.

She dialed her attorney’s private line. “John, thank God you’re in.”

“You sound stressed. Are you all right?” His voice caressed her like a warm embrace in the chilly air.

Joel's request for the weekend with Michael tumbled out of her mouth like a ball bouncing down a flight of stairs. “Will I have to comply?”

“No, you won't. You might want to think about it before you make the decision, though. You have full custody, so Joel might convince the judge you stopped him from trying to make a go of it with his son. That could work against you.”

The line crackled.

“I had a feeling you were going to say something like that. I'm being an overprotective ninny.”

“We could hope it doesn't work out, and then you'd never have to worry about it again. Joel is one cat that isn’t changing his spots.”

She paused. “Let me think about it. I'll let you know what I decide. You think I should?”

“I didn't say that. I said it might work against you if you don't. Then again, it may not. You have to decide. Anything we do to be fair to him weakens his case. If you're afraid he might do physical harm to Michael, don't do it.”

“Joelhasashortfuse,butIdon'tthinkhe'dhurtMichael physically.”

“Think about it. Call me when you decide.”

She hung up and leaned back in her chair, more confused than ever.

The buzzer sounded. “Patrick Mitchell is on line one,” Maria announced.

Patrick couldn’t have received the notification yet, and she didn’t want to spring it on him over the phone. “Can we get together before mediation?”

“Sure. Why don't we meet in the Sutter Grill for coffee? Say about two o'clock.”

“I have another call. I’ll see you at two.”

Dana called Joel and agreed to let Michael stay in Palo Alto with him. They’d meet halfway.

Eighteen

On her way to Gil’s office, her mind whirled thinking about carting Michael off to a set rendezvous with Joel. It seemed so
espionagey, like in those old spy movies, crossing some forbidden border and turning her son over to the enemy. Her vulnerability to Joel infuriated her, how he could still twist the knife in her whenever he chose.

In Gil's office, she picked imaginary lint from her skirt while she waited for him to get off the phone. The air conditioner hummed in the background. Gar
denias from Gil's flower garden floated in a large crystal bowl on his desk, filling the room with a fragrance that bordered on overpowering.

He hung up and folded his hands in front of him.
“Tough morning. I didn't mean to put you on the spot with the board. I had no choice. Never thought they'd go off the deep end over Local two eighty-one the way they did. I'm glad you didn't have anything to do with Teal's raid. They don't want two eighty-one in here at all. I read them all wrong. What a big mistake. I should have listened to you.”

She went numb remembering Teal's threats. If she came to Gil, he’d lose complete faith in Dana. What if Teal told him about her relationship with Patrick? In her mind, it was as if she were
swimming against a whirlpool, its vortex pulling her ever farther down.

Why had she not confided in Gil, her friend and mentor? He, more than anyone she knew, would understand her problems. It was guilt, pure and simple. She broke her vow and fell for Patrick, who offered her no future.

“Thanks for supporting me in the meeting.” She carried on as if nothing were out of the ordinary. She disliked lying, but for some reason she found telling the truth dangerous to her and Michael’s future. “You could have let me take the fall with those guys.”

“We're not out of the woods yet. They’re hopping mad. They want you to stall the mediator for the rest of the week.”

“A week? Gil, that's impossible. Patrick'll call a strike.”

“Hold him until we get your formal plan. Next Monday, we'll go in with an offer. The mediator we chose is a pussycat. I know you can handle him for a week.”

“Why don't we just make the offer now and get it over with? That would cinch PNA's hold in here.”

“They're working with accounting on a possible raise, with your access plan.” He stood up, loosened his tie, and jammed his hands in his back pockets. Perspiration rings circled under the sleeves of his shirt, a strip of gray hair draped his forehead. Not his usual impeccable self.

“If we fail…” He glanced at the flowers on his desk. “I feel like I'm losing it. I'm so close to the end of my career.”

Dana wanted to go to him, hold him, and make his fears go away. Teal could have an election and nothing might come of it.

In spite of Dana's fears, the possibility of the board approving an increase lifted her spirits. She hadn’t counted on additional leverage. Now she had to keep Teal at bay until she sold Patrick on the offer.

“Go get ‘
em, Dana. This'll be your toughest week, holding off the mediator. If the pressure gets to you, give them a few of those freebies. When this is over, we'll both be in the clear.”

“We begin in an hour and a half.” She rose. “Wish me luck.”

Gil walked around his desk and walked her to the door. “You'll do it. I have faith in you.”