Page 20 of Bad Blood

“I’ll join you,” he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets and taking a step toward me.

I freeze and stare at him, trying to parse out how serious he is. My brain activates damage control mode, searching for any excuse to get rid of him, and stops on the first thing that pops into my mind. “I’m in a hurry.”

Good one, B. What is wrong with me?

He lifts his shoulders with an air of indifference and a sly grin as he turns on his heel and retreats toward his office. “Suit yourself.”

The tension leaves my body, but I don’t take my eyes off him until he stops at the entrance. He gives me an easy, sinful smirk as he disappears inside.

I’m half-running to the door at the end of the hall before it registers that he’s not going to drop this.

Taking these to Luca may not be my brightest idea, but at least it will move things in the right direction. I take the stairs two at a time, my lungs on fire when I surprise Luca’s secretary as I race into HR and stop to catch my breath.

“May I help you?” Her voice raises an octave.

I point to the notepad on her desk and am about to explain what I need when Luca’s office door flies open, and Robert hustles out, pulling the door closed behind him.

Shit.

I twist in the other direction, trying to go unseen, but get an impetuous scoff. “Dr. Fields, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

I turn to deal with him and watch as his eyes drop from my face to the charts in my hand.

“Are those for me?” he asks.

The kernel of anxiety bursts open in my gut. “Something for Luca,” I parry, sliding them behind my back.

Robert’s eyes narrow.

My face is on fire.

Luca’s secretary stands and leans over her desk toward me, offering a Post-It pad and pen. “Here, hon, you were saying?” Her rescue couldn’t have come at a better time. She eyes Robert, and he takes it as his cue to leave after he sneers in my direction.

I get a look of sympathy from her.

And laugh despite myself. “I need to see Luca.”

“He had me mark his calendar off for the morning. I can get you in this afternoon,” she suggests.

I fan through the files. This could work in my favor. “I’ll leave a note. Can you give these to him, please?” I’m reluctant about handing over the charts, but they’re probably safer with Luca than in my office.

This has to be enough. If I found the information, he will too, right? I set the charts on her desk. What could I leave that would point him in the right direction?

I write HISTORY in all caps and underline it.

7

Punctuality and Promises

Dax

Tuesday, May 9 th

9:22 a.m.

“Are you seeing this?” Liam points to the TV across from us in the waiting room.

Reporters are in the background on the live news broadcast, and the closed-captioning words scroll across the bottom of the screen, “Christopher Jenks, Fox 5 News, coming to you live from Mount Sinai West, where it was confirmed that the providers named in the wrongful death litigation are still present and practicing.” He holds a hand to the mic in his ear and turns, the cameraman panning past him to the front entrance of the hospital.

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