Expecting the Doctor's Baby (10 page)

He opened the door and walked in. Ryan sat behind a big desk and the dark wood looked elegant and pricey. Carpet was the same as the waiting room, as were the two chairs situated on it in front of the desk. Behind him was a narrow table holding a series of family photographs. Mitch recognized Fiona, Connor and Sam. In the center of the grouping was a glamour shot of a beautiful woman who looked a lot like Sam. He'd bet his favorite stethoscope that was Catherine Mary Ryan, Sam's mom.

“Dr. Tenney,” Ryan said, “thanks for responding so quickly to my message.”

Reading between the lines, it was clear he was implying Mitch had hurried in because he was intimidated by the perception of power. It was a testament to Sam's coaching that he didn't tell this arrogant ass to stuff a sock in his summons.

“The E.R. was quiet.”

Ryan held out a hand. “Have a seat, Mitch.”

“So what did you want to see me about?” he asked, rounding the chair on the left and lowering himself into it.

“The status of your medical group and their contract to staff the E.R.”

“What about it?”

“The continuation of your services is predicated on your completing prescribed management coaching.”

“I'm aware of that,” Mitch said.

“It's come to my attention that your coach has become, shall we say, more than a coach.”

He could see where the guy was going and kicked himself for putting her in a tight spot. Even in the heat of passion when he'd refused to see obstacles and kept his eyes on the prize—on her—she'd maintained her professional integrity. All he'd been able to think about was how good she felt in his arms. How soft and sweet the taste of her lips. How fast he could make her his. Even as turned on as she was, Sam had taken responsibility for the fact that kissing a client was unethical. Thanks to her there was wiggle room on this issue.

“Sam is no longer my coach.”

“Oh?”

He knew that was an interrogation technique designed to elicit information and he wasn't biting. Mitch stared at him without answering.

After several moments, Ryan cleared his throat. “So, you're saying that you terminated Samantha?”

“It was a mutual decision.”

Sort of. She hadn't argued with him. Mostly because he'd deliberately kept her mouth occupied with his mouth. Not until the next morning did she bring up the subject, while he'd been preoccupied remembering the second time he'd made love to her and the way she'd wrapped her shapely legs around his waist while he was buried deep inside her.

“I take it that you've come to see what I've known all along.”

“Which is?” Mitch asked.

“That the management coaching program is a waste of your time and a useless drain on the hospital budget.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his flat abdomen. The guy was in great shape. “I've tried to tell Samantha as much, but she insists that a great deal of good can be accomplished.”

“Problems become opportunities when the right people join together,” Mitch said softly, remembering the picture of the bridge in Sam's office.

“Yes.” Ryan nodded. “But there are problems and there are problems.”

“You got that right. Pick one.”

“My daughter's choice of profession. I believe that's what you're referring to. And I'm guessing that you've recognized the counseling—”

“Coaching,” Mitch amended.

“Whatever.” Ryan made a dismissive move with his hand. “Clearly you see it as the nonsense it is.”

“That's where you're wrong.” Mitch stood and looked down at the guy. “If it was nonsense, I would have stopped listening to you five minutes ago. Hell, I'd have ignored the message to come for this interview altogether.”

“Are you saying my daughter actually made a difference in your attitude?”

“That's what I'm saying.” He folded his arms over his chest. “She's very good at her job.”

“It was my understanding that you were opposed to seeing someone for conflict resolution training.”

He'd been opposed to having his back against the wall and being forced into it. There was a difference. “I'll admit that I was initially reluctant.”

“And now?”

Mitch sent him a pointed look. “I can see the benefits of learning techniques to handle difficult people.”

“Does this change in attitude have anything to do with the fact that you're sleeping with my daughter? And that by doing so you've jeopardized her career—such as it is?”

Mitch didn't like this guy. Some of it was about implementing hospital policies that were a waste of time, effort and money. But that was business. Now he just didn't like him on account of the way he put Sam down at every opportunity. And that was personal.

“Your daughter is an incredibly bright, sweet, optimistic woman who is good at what she does.”

“Samantha is naive and needs someone to look out for her. It's a father's job to make certain his daughter is secure and well-taken care of.”

“You feel responsible for her?”

“Of course.” He frowned. “My late wife left her in my care and I take that very seriously.”

“To the point where you pick out the man she'll marry even if the guy is a cheating bastard?”

Ryan sat up straight. “What are you talking about?”

“Jax Warner. Sam broke it off because she caught him with another woman.”

Barely suppressed fury swirled in his eyes. “Samantha would have told me if that was the truth. She said it was a mutual, amicable decision.”

“She kept the ugly details to herself to protect you. If you really cared about her, you'd never have used her like that. You'd never exploit her need to be loved and manipulate her into a relationship that works for you but made her miserable.”

Arnold Ryan stood up and met his gaze. “How dare you judge me?”

“I dare because—” Mitch stopped because he didn't know why he was facing this guy down. Maybe it was the underdog thing. He couldn't stand to see anyone get picked on.

“What is the nature of your relationship with my daughter, Dr. Tenney?”

Good question. One he didn't plan to discuss with this guy. At least not in depth. “We're friends.”

“And does your friendship include sleeping with Samantha?”

“None of your business.”

The man glared daggers for several moments. “Then I'll tell you what is my business, Doctor. Whether or not your employment is continued here at Mercy Medical Center.”

“And it's my job to save lives. I'm very good at my job.”

“Let's be clear, Doctor.”

“Let's,” Mitch echoed.

“If you screw up just once, I won't lift a finger to salvage your job. In fact it would give me great pleasure to bring you down. Standing behind Samantha will not save your career, not in my hospital. If you shoot your mouth off again, for any reason, don't make the mistake of believing I'll intercede on your behalf because you slept with my daughter.”

Mitch was fuming and tried his best not to let it show when all he wanted to do was deck this guy. This man had set his daughter up with a womanizing loser, claiming the idiot would take care of her. Now he'd managed to make it appear that he was a noble father looking out for his daughter. In fact, he'd just said Mitch wasn't good enough to lick the bottom of her shoes. On top of that, he'd implied Sam could only attract a man who needed her as a career insurance policy.

He stared at Ryan for a long moment, then said, “Understood.”

The single word was spoken through gritted teeth. If Sam's coaching wasn't working, his response would have been far less civilized. And before he made a mockery of her work, he turned and walked out of the office.

Damn the man. Who the hell was he to dictate?

He kept using Sam's feelings to manipulate her. The fact that Sam was afraid of not having anyone to love her worked to his advantage. And Mitch was trying his damnedest not to care. He really needed to shut down his feelings because caring about someone led to responsibility. He should be grateful the guy had given him a reality check. He knew he should take the advice and walk away from her.

For his own sake.

But mainly for hers.

Mitch was the wrong man for her and it was the only thing he and Ryan agreed on.

A
fter leaving the administrator's office, Mitch went back to work, dealing with victims of a three-car accident on the Fifteen freeway. At least he could focus on something besides how much he wanted to tell Arnold Ryan exactly what he could do with his ultimatum.

He went from one trauma bay to the next, examining the patients. Fortunately no one had been hurt too badly except the guy who thought he was an Indy 500 driver staying one car length in front of the cops. After stabilizing him, the cops transferred the idiot to University Medical Center, where he'd be under armed guard. The police officer who'd managed to cut him off before he'd killed someone had been shaken up and was waiting in the E.R. for a bed upstairs. He was being kept overnight for observation. A parade of police officers had come in and out, supporting one of their own.

Mitch looked up from writing his notes and saw his mother coming through the double doors. As if his day couldn't get any worse.

She glanced around, saw him and walked over, her confident stride eating up the distance. In her black jacket and matching slacks, she looked like a police detective. She also looked tired and he wondered if she really projected cop vibes or he saw her that way because it was easier.

Ellen stopped beside him. “Hi, Mitch.”

“Mom.” He tapped his pen on the desk. “I guess you're here to see Officer Morrow.”

Worry swirled in her blue eyes as she nodded. “How is he?”

“Without breaching patient confidentiality I can tell you he's a very lucky guy.”

“Is that medical speak for he's going to be okay?”

He pointed at her. “I bet you're an excellent detective.”

“And I bet you're a good doctor. Morrow was in very good hands.”

That was the closest she'd come to paying him a compliment in longer than he could remember. It felt good. Took some of the sting out of his face-to-face with Ryan. The bastard.

He really didn't much care what the guy thought of him, but Sam was hungry for her father's respect, acceptance and love. It was possible that Mitch was also ticked off at himself for putting her in a compromising situation.

“Mitch? Are you okay?”

He lifted his gaze to his mother's. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

“Then I won't keep you. If you'll point me in the right direction, I'll go see Morrow.”

“Okay.” He half turned and said, “Through those double doors. Trauma bay two. He'll be going upstairs as soon as there's a bed. That shouldn't be long if you want to wait—”

She shook her head. “I'm on my lunch break. I was in the area and just wanted to say hi and see how he's doing.”

Mitch flashed on memories of her stopping by on her breaks to look in on him and Robbie. He'd always chafed at having to be responsible for his brother, but his mother's love for them had never been in question. Someone from Las Vegas Metro was always looking out for them and certainly Detective Tenney was behind that. Neither he nor Robbie could sneeze without her knowing. If anything, she'd been too protective.

Mitch realized that with all their issues, and they were numerous, he'd never questioned his mother's love for him. Not the way Sam doubted being loved.

He remembered the words from the wall of her office. Be a bridge. Maybe this was an opportunity. And he decided to take out for a spin what she'd taught him. It was a three-step approach.

Ellen glanced at the door, then back at him. “Thanks for the info, Mitch. And for taking good care of Morrow. I'll talk to you soon. About Thanksgiving,” she added, starting to turn away.

“Wait, Mom.”

She stopped. “What's up?”

He remembered Sam talking about data gathering as a method to curtail and resolve conflict in an effective, non-confrontational way. It's not touchy/feely, she'd said. One simply asked questions, gathered data and listened. Don't respond with a viewpoint because that sets up a situation where one or both parties become defensive and start counterattacking. So he had to ask something.

“Was it hard for you when Dad was killed?” It was the first thing that popped into his head.

She looked surprised and that didn't happen often. “Yeah. Real hard.”

“How come you never remarried?”

“Aside from the fact that no one asked?” she said, trying to deflect the question.

Sam had told him he did that, tried to distract when the questions touched a nerve. Data gathering. Questions. Keep her talking. “No one asked?” he urged.

“That's not exactly true.” Ellen blew out a breath and fixed her gaze on something just over his shoulder that she wasn't really seeing. “At first I had my hands full. With Robbie. You. Working and keeping everything as normal as possible.”

“At first? Then what?”

A skeptical look slid into her eyes. “You don't really want to hear this, do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why now?”

So, she was data gathering, too. Duh. She was a detective. Questions were her bread and butter.

He shrugged. “Let's just say I've been getting in touch with my feminine side. So tell me how it was after you kept everything normal.”

“There was no such thing as normal for me after your father died. Jason Tenney was the only man I ever loved. One day he was there, the next he was gone. But there were two boys to raise and they were counting on me. It was the alone part that was the hardest.”

He knew all about alone.

Trying to avoid it had gotten Sam in hot water with her family and he regretted that, but he just hadn't been able to let her go that night. His mother had had no choice about letting his father go.

“Do you still miss him?” Mitch asked.

Her small smile was incredibly sad. “Every day.”

“So you don't date?” Again the words popped out of his mouth and he felt like he was living in an Oprah show.

“I go out every once in a while,” she said with a shrug.

“Nothing serious?”

This time there was a hint of humor in her smile. “What are you? My father?”

“Hardly.” He smiled, too. “Just curious.”

“You get that from me,” she said.

Who had he inherited the selfish gene from? He'd carried around a lot of anger at Ellen. Forcing him to be responsible for his brother had rubbed him the wrong way as a kid. When they grew into men, he'd fought a losing battle to save his twin from the addiction that was slowly killing him and Mitch would carry the guilt of that failure to his grave. But he'd never once thought about how hard his mother's life had been without his dad. How lonely and sad she must have felt as she went about being a single mother who worked on the police force while being responsible for raising twin boys.

He wished now that he could have done something to make her life easier instead of being sullen and resentful. So much for step one of data gathering. Step two was asking if there was anything else he needed to know and a promise to give it more thought. He figured he probably had more than enough to think about. Step three was proposing a solution at the next meeting. He'd worry about that another time. Still, this was progress.

Would Sam be proud of him? He hoped so.

His mother glanced at the watch on her wrist. “It's getting late. I've got to run.”

“I didn't mean to keep you so long. Sorry.”

“Don't be. This was good.” She hesitated just long enough to let him know it wasn't comfortable, then opened her arms and gave him an awkward hug.

He responded. It was rusty but that was okay. “It was nice to see you, Mom.”

“You, too. Maybe next time it will be under more pleasant circumstances.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe Thanksgiving. I could cook.”

“I'd like that.”

She didn't look quite as tired as when she'd walked in. “We'll talk soon.”

“Okay.”

She nodded, then went through the double doors to the trauma bay where her fellow cop was being cared for. It was weird. That had actually gone pretty okay thanks to his conflict counselor. And he'd given her such a hard time in the beginning. If Sam hadn't been Sam would he have listened to her at all?

Problems become opportunities when the right people join together.

The good feeling faded when he remembered what her father had said. He wasn't the right man for her. Ryan knew it and so did Mitch.

 

Sam left her father's office and fought down nausea and the uneasy feeling that followed. Her period was late, but it was probably because of all the stress in her life. Mitch. Now her father had insisted on seeing her. The meeting hadn't been especially pleasant. But why should this one be different?

He didn't think much of Mitch. And Mitch had made it clear he didn't think much of her father. Or her, for that matter, for putting up with what he called her father's crap. The criticism and manipulation.

It was true, she realized. Using the fact that she wanted him to love her, Arnold Ryan had a major influence on who she saw socially and had just revealed his dislike of the man she was seeing.

Sort of seeing.

Sam wasn't exactly sure what they were. She was no longer his coach. She'd slept with him more than once and could be…

She shook her head. It was only the first time that they didn't use protection. No way would the fates be so cruel to her.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

She looked up and saw Mitch coming toward her. Her stomach jumped. It had nothing to do with nausea and everything to do with being happy to see him. She hadn't realized how much she'd been hoping for this until he was right there in front of her.

“Mitch.”

He stopped beside her and looked down. “Did you just have a meeting with your father?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to have lunch with me in the doctor's dining room?”

She tilted her head as she studied him. “This is getting to be a habit.” As was the way she couldn't stop thinking about him. How did that happen in such a short time?

“Is that a yes or no?”

“It's an ‘I don't think it's a good idea.'”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat. “Because Daddy told you to stay away from me?”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, glancing at the closed door behind her.

“Because he and I had a friendly little chat.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“He sent for me. I showed up. On time. He said some things. I said some things.” His mouth thinned for a moment as his jaw jerked. “You'd be proud of me for what I kept to myself.”

“Oh, God—”

“Seriously. We put our cards on the table and have a better understanding because of it.”

She wasn't sure what that meant, wasn't sure she wanted to. “I think he knows we—” She pointed to him, then herself, then back and forth a couple more times. “You know—We, had umm—”

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Sex?”

“Yes.”

“He did not get independent confirmation of that fact from me.”

“Me, either,” she said quickly, cheeks burning.

“So what did you tell him?”

She sighed. “Mostly I just listened. And he managed to get a shot or two in about how management coaching was a waste of time.”

“On the contrary,” he said. “Thanks to your time, efforts and expertise, along with specific behavioral modification strategies to resolve conflict—”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Absolutely not.” He held up his hands. “What I'm trying to say is that because of you I didn't pop him in the nose even though he deserved it.”

“Thank goodness.”

That would only have made things worse and Mitch would probably have lost his job. Not to mention that her father wouldn't have hesitated to press assault and battery charges and any other charges he could come up with.

“So, don't I deserve the pleasure of your company for playing nice?”

He thought her company was pleasurable?

“And,” Mitch added, grinning wickedly, “wouldn't you just love to thumb your nose at the old man? Right under his nose since the doctor's dining room is just down the hall.”

It was the sinful grin that swayed her to the dark side. She'd been doing a convincing job of resisting his charm until he laid that on her.

She smiled back and after the morning she'd had it was a miracle. “Okay, Doctor. Lead me into temptation.”

“When opportunity knocks…” He took her hand and tucked it into the bend of his arm.