Page 6 of Getting Off

It was a life of luxury that would’ve made anyone happy.Except that for all of Lucas’s luxury living, he was still absolutely alone.No matter how many dates he went on with eligible young women, he could not imagine settling down with anyone he’d met.They were nice enough, pretty, talented, many of them charming and intelligent.

But none of them had managed to steal his heart.

Lucas took another glass of champagne, greeted a few people he knew in passing, and drifted toward the main ballroom, wondering if he was his own worst enemy.At least when it came to love.

He valued hard work and dedication.He wanted someone who understood that drive and had it themselves.He didn’t care if it turned out to be a woman or a man.He was simply searching for someone who could respect and enjoy dedication to their work and yet cut loose and have fun when the time was right.

Lucas seriously doubted Dr.Brooklyn Foster was that woman.

But either way, shehadgotten under his skin, for better or for worse.Especially earlier in the week, when she hadn’t given a damn that he’d defended her to Gibson, the chief of staff at the hospital.She wanted the top slot, so she should at least appreciate a good word from him.But she hadn’t.

Dr.Foster was abysmal at networking.That much was very clear.He had no patience for incompetence.If she couldn’t do what it took to win the director position for the trauma center, then he wouldn’t be pulling any strings for her.

Then again, he would see what he had to see tonight, wouldn’t he?If she ever showed up.

And then he finally spotted her.She was lingering in the ballroom toward the far wall, clutching a champagne flute and looking as if she’d rather be anywhere else in the world but here.

A slow smile spread across his face.She looked surprisingly good in a dress.It was a black cocktail dress, so she wasn’t exactly taking a risk there, but the dress complimented her lithe frame.She had an elegant body, slender and smooth, with her blonde hair done up in a French braid and a simple gold necklace around her graceful neck.Small breasts, a narrow waist, but long legs in heels.He’d always been a leg man.

He took a big sip of champagne and decided to watch her for a little while before moving in.She clearly didn’t want to be here, but would she adapt and succeed?Or would she let him get away without charming a nice, fat donation out of him for her hospital?

Tonight was going to be interesting.

Brooklyn hated parties.Or at least she hatedthesekinds of parties.They were pretentious and completely not fun.No matter how much she smiled and nodded and did her best to mingle, she simply couldn’t feel natural and at ease.

This was the worst part about the politics of hospitals.She smiled and nodded and asked the polite questions that were expected at these kinds of events.The chief of staff considered this as much a part of her work as making a diagnosis and coming up with treatment plans.She preferred research, healing people, and making a difference in the lives of her patients.But Dr.Gibson believed strategic schmoozing was vital to hospital funding, and Brooklyn was absolutely determined to master this art to the best of her abilities.She had to if she wanted to be chosen to run the new trauma center.

A friend of hers had once jokingly suggested that Brooklyn’s brain was defective when it came to loathing these kinds of social situations.She knew that wasn’t the case.She had studied scans of her own brain.She would know if there were any problems.This was just how she was wired.

Perhaps some psychologist would say this was what happened to the twin who was left behind.A sense of disconnection, an inability to master the social art of chit-chat, a focus and drive at work that might even seem mildly obsessive.But Brooklyn wasn’t in the psychology field.She had no interest in speculating on human behavioral patterns.She wanted concrete facts.

And the only fact she knew for certain was that she hated ballroom fundraising benefits.

She sipped her champagne and tried not to look awkward.She’d rushed here after her shift, only having time to grab this cocktail dress and throw on some jewelry that was far outshone by the diamonds and gold draped on every wealthy woman around her.She felt lucky her hair had cooperated.

“Ah, Dr.Foster!”Dr.Harvey Gibson ambushed her, smiling like a snake.She’d been doing her best to avoid the chief of staff all night.“So good to see you here this evening.Have you met Donald Holland yet?Donald, let me introduce you to Brooklyn Foster.She’s an up-and-coming neurologist at the hospital.”

Brooklyn accepted the sweaty hand of the elderly Mr.Holland and shook hands with his painted wife as well.She smiled.She nodded.She listened.She nodded some more.She listened to Dr.Gibson tell stories about his children and how they’d gone to prep school with the Holland children.How wonderful.They were all one big happy family.Brooklyn filed as much of this information into her memory as possible so she would remember to ask about the couple’s children the next time they met.

This was all part of the process of getting local wealthy Vegas patrons to donate money to the hospital.It was how the world worked.Brooklyn wished it was otherwise.To her, it felt wrong to pander to these big wigs just to get the money to be able to provide vital health services for the community.But there was a lot of money in Vegas, and they needed to get their share in order to survive.

When the Hollands finally took their leave, Dr.Gibson turned on her, his face set in a scowl.

“If this trauma center is going to become a reality, you’re going to have to be far more charming and convince our donors to contribute the money to fund it.Smile more.Use what advantages God gave you.”

She stared at him, shocked by the bluntness of his words.She knew she should be furious, but right now, she couldn’t think of a word to say.

“You’re upset,” Dr.Gibson continued, eyeing her.“I can tell that much.I suppose it is a good time to inform you that I’ve put in my vote against you for the head position in this endeavor.I simply don’t believe you have what it takes.”

Brooklyn was floored by his words.He’d never been supportive, and he was always making vaguely sexist comments that HR would’ve railed him for…if he hadn’t been the chief of staff.But to put a vote against her was a serious matter.

“Dr.Gibson, I’m absolutely qualified for this position,” she said carefully.“I’ve been training for this for over ten years.I’ve given hours and hours of volunteer time to dealing with head trauma in our emergency room.This center will make a huge, positive impact on the community.”

“You’re right.Itwillmake a huge impact, and I know a good neurosurgeon in Tahoe who will fit the bill perfectly.And there is Dr.Beaumont, of course.Another strong candidate.”Dr.Gibson’s smile turned glacial.“Both men understand the nuances of raising money and pleasing big donors.”

Brooklyn bit the inside of her cheek to keep the words she wanted to say inside her mouth.Those words pounded on her skull until she felt as if she might be sick.But she couldn’t say any of the things she wanted to shout at this vile man who outranked her.

“Of course, sir,” she said with a smile frozen on her face.“Whatever you think is best for the community and the hospital.”

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