Page 86 of Rescuing Dr. Marian
It took me a moment to comprehend what she was saying. “A new medical director? Like, my replacement?”
Robyn frowned. “Well, you’re only here for the summer session, right? I guess Foster heard from a guy he knows downin Colorado. They worked on some SAR jobs together, and Foster thinks highly of the guy. He knows Trace needs someone killer to fill your shoes. “
And he’d mentioned it to Trace instead of me?
A thousand questions piled up behind my teeth. I started with just one. “What’s the rush? The next session doesn’t start until mid-August, right?”
Her forehead crinkled. “Yeah, but that’s in five weeks. This is kind of the time we need to be looking, depending on how much notice our ideal candidate needs to give to their current employer.” She leaned in and placed a hand on my arm. “Are you sure you wouldn’t consider staying on for another session? You know we’d love to have you. We’re so lucky you chose to come here this summer!”
I watched Foster and Trace, heads together over steaming mugs of coffee. Neither spared me a moment’s glance, which was galling if they were considering the best person to be the medical director of SERA.
Who better to consult on the topic than the current one? Who better than the only medical professional on-site?
“I know, I know, you can’t stay,” Robyn went on, still talking despite my lack of participation in the conversation. “I think it’s because Foster told Trace you were for sure taking the job in California, that Trace realized he needed to do something?—”
“I’m sorry, he what? Foster told Trace…?”
She nodded and shot me a warm smile, teeth flashing as her ponytail bobbed in excitement. “Congratulations, by the way. I didn’t know it was official yet, even though I’m not surprised they made you the offer.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to correct her, to inform her no one had made me any offer yet and it was for damned surenotofficial, but for all I knew, it was only a few hours before it would be true.
I politely excused myself and headed outside, if only to keep from murdering Foster Blake with a butter knife.
He thought I’d gotten andacceptedan offer but hadn’t told him about it? And he hadn’t said a word tomeabout his assumption?
Anger coursed through my veins. I strode to Cabin 8 and dialed my cousin Ella.
“Hey, babe. How’d it go last night?” she asked.
“Can you come get me?” I tried to keep my voice steady so my anger didn’t show. “I have a video call in an hour I’d like privacy for.”
In true Ella fashion, she read the room and agreed without asking a single question. Within twenty minutes, I’d informed Robyn of my need to leave campus for the morning, thanked her for proctoring the exam for my students—which she’d offered to do anyway—and grabbed a nicer shirt for the video meeting.
As Ella was backing the car out of the spot in front of the cabin, Foster and Chickie walked by and noticed me leaving.
“Want me to stop?” Ella asked softly.
“No,” I said, looking anywhere but at Foster fucking Blake.
My anger toward him only grew and festered throughout the morning until I was an overfull pot on a roiling boil.
Stanford offered me everything I asked for and more. They made me feel wanted and appreciated, respected andrecognized. I felt the full benefit of the professional and academic achievements I’d made leading up to now. Getting hired at St. Ignatius had been an honor, but landing the job at Stanford? It was serendipitous.
Everything I’d ever thought I’d wanted for my career. For my future.
So the fact that I felt hollow inside instead of excited made me even angrier. And that anger had a clear target.
When my mother ran me back to SERA, I considered confronting Foster, asking him why he was spreading lies about my job situation. I thought about confessing my feelings for him and begging him to be honest about his own. Begging him to consider a future for the two of us.
But I’d already tried talking to him multiple times about moving past our “summer fling” agreement, and he’d shot me down every single time. A relationship between us was never going to be a possibility if it was always me pressing for it.
Foster had tried to tell me he wasn’t interested in more, over and over, and I hadn’t listened because I didn’t want to hear it.
“Hey, Tommy,” Trace called from the path leading to our cabin. “Wait up.”
“I’m headed back to the classroom as soon as I change out of these clothes,” I said, indicating my button-down.
He waved a hand through the air. “No rush. The instructors stole all the students for a helo thing up on Pronghorn Ridge anyway. They won’t be back until four at the earliest, unless the weather turns. Monroe said if you want to join, just catch him on the radio. Otherwise, consider yourself with a few hours off. Although I’d love your help assessing candidates for themedical position later, if you have time.” He smiled. “Congratulations, by the way. Foster told me your exciting news, not that it’s a surprise. Stanford is lucky to have you.”
