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Keeping Score

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“It’s the truth. He just showed up.”

Arthur reached past her to open the door. He was chivalrous, even as he pissed her off. “That’s a good story.”

“Why won’t you believe me?” Marilyn entered the bustling hospital lobby. She took a deep breath, inhaling the satisfying scent of antiseptic as she waited for Arthur.

“Because people like you love living in the spotlight. That’s why someone with your options would continue to work outside the home. You feed off being the center of attention.” Arthur’s black dress shoes echoed against the tiled lobby almost in unison with Marilyn’s flats.

Marilyn gaped at him. “What are you talking about?”

Arthur adjusted his grip on his briefcase. “Why are you here?”

Her boss was asking her to defend herself and her work. The question hurt. It was tempting to pretend not to understand it but that was the coward’s way out. She wasn’t a coward, despite what Warrick had said yesterday.

Marilyn faced the older man. She adjusted the strap of her mud brown backpack higher on her shoulders. “I’m a doctor, and I’m good at what I do. That’s why I’m here and that’s why I won’t give up my career.”

Arthur gestured around the lobby. “The staff is distracted. Patients are complaining and now reporters are gathering in our parking lot. There’s only so much I can tolerate and you’re coming dangerously close to that line.”

Marilyn swallowed resentment and fear. The taste was bitter. “I understand.”

Arthur shook his head. He seemed confused. “Your husband is a multimillionaire. You don’t need the money.”

Cold seeped into her pores. Marilyn arched a brow. It was an attempt at bravado to mas

k her trepidation. “You’re beginning to make me feel like you don’t want me here.”

Arthur dragged a hand over his thinning gray hair. “Your presence has become disruptive since your husband has started drawing so much media attention.”

Marilyn tightened her grip on her backpack. “That wouldn’t be a problem if people worried less about my personal life and more about the hospital and our patients.”

“But you don’t have to be here. You don’t have to work.”

Marilyn blinked in mock surprise. “I wish you’d told me that eight years ago—before medical school and my residency.”

Arthur shrugged. “You know now. So why are you still working?”

“Would you ask the same question of a male doctor?”

“Yes, I would.”

She believed him. “I love what I do. I wouldn’t give it up even if I hit the lottery.”

Marilyn turned toward the obstetrics and gynecology unit. She manufactured a brisk and confident gait as she strode away from Arthur. For years, she’d wanted to be a baby doctor. So her presence was a distraction for the hospital? Too bad. She wasn’t giving up her dream for anything. Arthur would just have to deal with her.

Marilyn hesitated. She glanced around the hallway as people maneuvered around her. Was that the way Warrick felt about his career? His passion, commitment, and talent had led him to be one of the few players who succeeded in the NBA. His dream had come true just as hers had. How could she then ask him to give that up? But what would happen to them if he didn’t?

“Lena, you’re progressing wonderfully.” Marilyn spoke with satisfaction after completing her patient’s prenatal screening later that afternoon. She removed her gloves and closed the manila folder in which she kept Lena Alvarez’s medical files. “You’re right where you should be in your third trimester.”

“It’s not as though this is my first time.” The very pregnant mother of three wiggled into a more comfortable reclining position on the examination table.

Marilyn grinned. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“Yes.” Lena rested the palms of her small hands on her belly. “When are you and Rick Evans getting back together?”

Marilyn’s smile faded. Had she heard the other woman correctly? “Excuse me?”

Lena’s Puerto Rican accent was more pronounced as she spoke louder. “I said when are you and Rick Evans getting back together?”

Marilyn’s gaze darted around the tiny yellow and white exam room. “Lena, when I asked if you had any questions for me, I meant questions that pertained to your health—”



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