right
now.”
“Because it’s inevitable.”
“You want to know what Nia’s brother’s squadron made on their auction?”
“It wouldn’t be—”
“Forty-two thousand dollars,” Monica said. That shut him up. But not for
long.
“The women in this neighborhood can barely afford to put shoes on their
children’s feet. They’re renovating their houses and trying to replace their
flooded out cars,” Eli rationalized. “Do you really think they’ll be willing to
shuck out thousands to pay for a date with a doctor?”
“Why are you so against this?” Monica asked, holding her hands out in
exasperation.
“I’m not. I told you, I want nothing more than to keep the center open,
but I’ve got to be realistic. I have patients to consider; young women who
think they are going to have decent healthcare throughout their pregnancy. I’m
more concerned with finding them a suitable alternative than crossing my
fingers and hoping we can raise more money than we’ve ever been able to raise
before. I’m sorry, Dr. Gardner, but I don’t think you can pull this off.”
“Of course not, at least not by myself. I need help.” She was not letting
him ruin this for her. Monica took a deep breath, reluctant to admit what she
was about to tell him, but nothing else seemed to get through his thick head.
“Consider my position for a minute,” she said, hating the pleading tone
in her voice. “I’m new here. I want to make a good impression.”
Understanding sparkled in his eyes. “And what could be better than the
new kid on the block stepping in and saving the center?” he concluded before
Monica had the chance to finish. It was all she could do not to grit her teeth.
“Being Super Doc and all, I’m sure you don’t find yourself in need very
often, but try putting yourself in the shoes of someone who could use a little
help.” Monica could not believe she was admitting this, especially to him. But
she was feeling a little desperate. She liked it here, and she wanted to fit
in. She hated playing politics, but it was the way of the world. She would not
be left on the outside looking in.
“It’s not totally selfish.” Monica rose from the chair and started pacing
the floor between his desk and a freshly polished bookshelf. “I believe the
Parenting Center is a wonderful, worthwhile asset to the community.”
“And if saving it will help you look good, that’s just icing on the cake.”
His words mimicked her own thoughts so closely it was almost scary.
Too late, Monica realized admitting her semi-ulterior motive for wanting
to pull off a successful banquet was a mistake of gargantuan proportion. Not
only would he see her as unrealistic—as he had already inferred—but
he would think all she was looking for was praise and recognition. Yeah, she
wanted those things, but her motives were not completely self-serving.
Right, like he would believe that after her proclamation. Monica had a
strong urge to hide under the rich mahogany desk until, oh, the year 2045, or
so. That should be long enough to get over her embarrassment, or at least for
Eli to go senile.
Monica caught the slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He so was not laughing at her.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said.
“You do?” His grin widened.
“Yes, and I do not appreciate it. I’m a damn good doctor and I can hold
my own in any emergency room you put me in. That is not why I’m pushing for
this banquet. I have nothing to prove.”
“Did I say you did?”
“I know it’s what you’re thinking.”
“Trust me, Dr. Gardner, you have no idea what’s going through my mind
right now.”
Monica caught the laughter in his eyes, but she ignored it. He could go
on thinking what he wanted. She was through doubting her ability. Despite what
happened in St. Louis. Despite what the nagging little voice that occasionally
reared its head whispered to her brain at the most inopportune time. She was a great
now.”
“Because it’s inevitable.”
“You want to know what Nia’s brother’s squadron made on their auction?”
“It wouldn’t be—”
“Forty-two thousand dollars,” Monica said. That shut him up. But not for
long.
“The women in this neighborhood can barely afford to put shoes on their
children’s feet. They’re renovating their houses and trying to replace their
flooded out cars,” Eli rationalized. “Do you really think they’ll be willing to
shuck out thousands to pay for a date with a doctor?”
“Why are you so against this?” Monica asked, holding her hands out in
exasperation.
“I’m not. I told you, I want nothing more than to keep the center open,
but I’ve got to be realistic. I have patients to consider; young women who
think they are going to have decent healthcare throughout their pregnancy. I’m
more concerned with finding them a suitable alternative than crossing my
fingers and hoping we can raise more money than we’ve ever been able to raise
before. I’m sorry, Dr. Gardner, but I don’t think you can pull this off.”
“Of course not, at least not by myself. I need help.” She was not letting
him ruin this for her. Monica took a deep breath, reluctant to admit what she
was about to tell him, but nothing else seemed to get through his thick head.
“Consider my position for a minute,” she said, hating the pleading tone
in her voice. “I’m new here. I want to make a good impression.”
Understanding sparkled in his eyes. “And what could be better than the
new kid on the block stepping in and saving the center?” he concluded before
Monica had the chance to finish. It was all she could do not to grit her teeth.
“Being Super Doc and all, I’m sure you don’t find yourself in need very
often, but try putting yourself in the shoes of someone who could use a little
help.” Monica could not believe she was admitting this, especially to him. But
she was feeling a little desperate. She liked it here, and she wanted to fit
in. She hated playing politics, but it was the way of the world. She would not
be left on the outside looking in.
“It’s not totally selfish.” Monica rose from the chair and started pacing
the floor between his desk and a freshly polished bookshelf. “I believe the
Parenting Center is a wonderful, worthwhile asset to the community.”
“And if saving it will help you look good, that’s just icing on the cake.”
His words mimicked her own thoughts so closely it was almost scary.
Too late, Monica realized admitting her semi-ulterior motive for wanting
to pull off a successful banquet was a mistake of gargantuan proportion. Not
only would he see her as unrealistic—as he had already inferred—but
he would think all she was looking for was praise and recognition. Yeah, she
wanted those things, but her motives were not completely self-serving.
Right, like he would believe that after her proclamation. Monica had a
strong urge to hide under the rich mahogany desk until, oh, the year 2045, or
so. That should be long enough to get over her embarrassment, or at least for
Eli to go senile.
Monica caught the slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He so was not laughing at her.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said.
“You do?” His grin widened.
“Yes, and I do not appreciate it. I’m a damn good doctor and I can hold
my own in any emergency room you put me in. That is not why I’m pushing for
this banquet. I have nothing to prove.”
“Did I say you did?”
“I know it’s what you’re thinking.”
“Trust me, Dr. Gardner, you have no idea what’s going through my mind
right now.”
Monica caught the laughter in his eyes, but she ignored it. He could go
on thinking what he wanted. She was through doubting her ability. Despite what
happened in St. Louis. Despite what the nagging little voice that occasionally
reared its head whispered to her brain at the most inopportune time. She was a great
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