Keeping Score

Lena frowned her confusion. She settled her purse on her left shoulder. “What?”

Marilyn forced her neck and shoulders to relax. “I’ll tell your new doctor whatever she or he needs to know to keep you healthy and ensure you deliver another strong baby.”

Lena rubbed her hands over her pregnant belly. Her troubled brown eyes met Marilyn’s. “Thank you.”

Marilyn forced a smile. “You’re welcome.” She needed to get away. She wanted to be by herself. She reached around Lena to open the door.

Lena caught Marilyn’s forearm. “I’m sorry, Doc. I do like you, but ...”

Marilyn waited a beat after Lena’s hesitation. “But you love the Monarchs more.” Lena nodded miserably. Marilyn pulled the door open. “I understand.” No, she really didn’t.

She stood back and watched Lena leave the examination room. The expectant mother of three wasn’t her only patient who also was a Brooklyn Monarchs fan. How many more patients would believe she was divorcing a beloved member of their treasured team? What did this mean for her practice at the hospital or potential partnership with the clinic?

8

Arthur Posey looked even more uptight than usual in his smoke gray pinstripe suit. The hospital administrator hovered near the break room table Marilyn usually used as her workstation. Marilyn had watched enough vampire movies to know better than to invite him closer. She wouldn’t ask what he wanted, either. She returned his stare in silence. Arthur could say whatever he had to say—or not—without her prompting.

The administrator sighed. “I understand one of your patients has left your care.”

“That’s right. Lena Alvarez.” Every muscle in her body tensed. Why was Arthur here?

He clasped his hands in front of him. It was a pose that wouldn’t encourage creases in his perfectly pressed suit. “It took some effort to convince her to stay with the hospital under the care of another physician.”

Marilyn’s mind raced to stay ahead of him. “It couldn’t have taken that much effort, Arthur. She told me she would make an appointment with one of the doctors I recommended before she left today.”

Why was he pretending he’d been the one to change Lena’s mind?

Arthur’s eyes widened, a barely perceptible indication of surprise. “Still, Kings County Medical Samaritan is not in the habit of sending our patients to other hospitals.”

“I know.” She gave him a patient look, which took all of her amateur acting skills to pull off.

“I told you this would happen.” Arthur drew closer without her invitation.

“That what would happen?”

He stood beside her chair, crowding Marilyn. “You’re disrupting this hospital.”

She frowned, confused. “Lena’s devotion to the Monarchs clouded her judgment about her care.”

“Your husband’s connection with the Monarchs is costing us patients.”

Had Arthur lost his mind? “No, it’s not.”

“You’re alienating patients and losing credibility as a physician among your peers.”

“And my supervisors?” Marilyn stared him down.

Arthur’s lips thinned. “You’re trying to live in two worlds.”

Marilyn arched a brow. “How did you draw that conclusion ?”

Arthur looked down his nose at her. “You’re trying to be a celebrity and a doctor. You’re either one or the other. You can’t be both. Not at this hospital.”

Marilyn was losing the battle with her patience. She pushed herself up from her chair, forcing Arthur to take a step back. “Ah, yes. I’m sure lab coats are all the rage among Brooklyn celebrities.” She glanced down at her clothing. “And I’m just dripping with pearls, diamonds, and rubies, aren’t I? Do you like my tiara?”

Arthur looked as though he’d just sucked a lemon. “It’s not the clothes you wear. It’s your attitude. You think you’re special, that everyone should pay homage to you because you’re married to an NBA player and the two of you have almost as much money as God.”

This from an administrator who expected hospital staff to kiss his ring. Marilyn’s face and neck burned. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me or my lifestyle.”