Several doctors shared a curious look among them, and a few murmurs echoed. Evidently they hadn’t been privy to that little piece of information. Glaring at Dr. Risden, she continued. “What happened last night was also an indirect result of something I’ve been pointing out for some time. My rotation in the ER was not supposed to start for an hour, but I had to step in and save that child’s life. If I’d questioned the call, she’d be dead. Then we would be having a totally different conversation—and a lawsuit.”

  She kept her focus on the tall man with hawkish features. He looked ready to blow a gasket. “I’ve said it before and clearly it bears repeating. In addition to completely overhauling the allocation of staff and implementing those much needed procedures, the entire trauma unit needs at least one robotic surgery machine.” She flipped open another file and scanned the contents. “This will give the hospital a more acceptable call schedule—and save lives in the process. Maybe then I would’ve felt comfortable pausing and checking out why an ER surgeon was not handling the situation. And isn’t saving lives what we’re supposed to be all about?”

  When those words only elicited a murmur of dissent, she added, “Or you can partner with Dr. Barton to come up with a solution to being understaffed, plus the challenge of the current staff being completely overworked which can lead to costly mistakes.” She lifted an eyebrow at Dr. Risden, knowing that was his least favorite option. Dr. Barton was as senior as Dr. Risden, better looking, younger, and more personable. Dr. Barton also threw his weight behind her efforts despite having other offers and options. All those attributes ticked Dr. Risden off to no end.

  “Having a team that utilizes robotics for general surgery is not the solution for us,” Dr. Risden fired back. “We’re a traditional hospital.”

  “Dr. Stephenson’s general surgery group at Advocate feels it’s a viable solution. His team already performs robotic surgery and put this hospital at the forefront in this aspect of medicine. Successfully. We can do the same and more with the future expansion into robotics here at Meridian.” Lani wanted at least two teams trained to handle robotics for general surgery. Her ultimate goal was to have them handle specialized procedures as well. The board didn’t have to know that yet.

  “We’d like to remain a traditional hospital,” Dr. Danvers interjected, his thinning salt-and-pepper hair even more pronounced since he recovered from open-heart surgery a year ago. Ironically, he opted to have it at a hospital that used robotics as part of the procedure. “All this focus on unneeded technology and the cost it will take to support the transition is not within our financial framework at this time.”

  “Yet, you all found a way to award Dr. Risden a mega-bonus for the past two years. I’d love to know what magician helped you pull that one off.”

  The silence behind that statement was telling until Dr. Stephenson spoke up. “This is not the time nor the place to discuss the personal merits of our colleagues, Dr. Jamison.”

  Lani nodded but refused to back down on what mattered most. “But I have questions, Dr. Danvers …” His head snapped in her direction. “Didn’t robotics save your life, or was there some other reason why you chose another hospital over Meridian?”

  “We’re not here to discuss your proposal to implement robotics into surgery.” Dr. Risden tapped the file in front of him. “We’re—”

  “Look, I’m asking for the sake of the quality care that I know we all want at Meridian. Are we really going to let our patients down because a few don’t see the need to make drastic changes in order to save lives? Robotics is just one of the things I proposed along with electronic tablets for doctors and nurses to speed up diagnosis, testing, scheduling, and instant access to a patient’s entire file.”

  Dr. Danvers huffed. “The budget doesn’t allow for these types of technological advances.”

  She studied the stern faces around the table. “I offered to head up the fundraising and spearhead the work involved to help establish and implement good processes that support these goals,” she shot back, sliding a fingertip along the edge of the table. “But you all have been either too busy, too indifferent, or flat out too uncaring to resolve these issues. Yet you showed up super quick when you thought it meant pushing me out the door.”

  A volley of protests ensued, none more vehement than Dr. Risden, who still argued that the budget wouldn’t allow for the kind of staffing and changes Lani proposed. This hospital had the potential to become the leader in a field that was sorely lacking in this geographical area. Surgical robotics for children was a fairly new practice, but a much-needed one, given the level of traffic wading through their doors. She had to get them to accept robotics for general surgery first if they were to ever shift to using it for children. One bite of the elephant and all that.

  Lani broke through the heated arguments by saying, “Wasn’t I the one who provided examples of how the current practice situation could have led to poor clinical outcomes and possibly less than optimal reports of the patient experience? And yet you did nothing.”

  “Wait a minute now,” Dr. McDonnell said, holding up a weathered hand to halt Lani from saying anything further.

  She flickered a glance at him. “We pay out more in settlements than the solutions that would have prevented our negligence. I strongly believe that to minimize risk to the hospital, we need a long-term solution, not these quick fixes that allow you to gloss over the real issues. I’ve provided many, and you’ve ignored them all. Now it’s coming back to bite you—and me—in the ass.” She focused on Dr. Risden, whose ivory skin had turned an ugly shade of crimson. “What happened last night was a sign of the inefficiency in the security systems on top of everything else.” She tapped a fingertip on his Quality Control Review recommendation sheet to fire her. “So how, exactly, were you poised to make me pay for that?”

  Once again, the room descended into silence and no answers.

  Lani gave them her back to ponder as she left the room.

  Dr. Risden trotted after her. “This isn’t over,” he said through his teeth. “Your distraction might work on them, but I recognize your game.” He waved the folder in his hand. “This meeting was about you being in O.R. 8 when you were called for an emergency you ignored in O.R. 9. That, along with your past cases.”

  She paused, dissecting his words. “What? I was paged to eight. Ask Sandra.”

  Dr. Risden smirked. “Sandra remembers you being paged, but she didn’t recall the specific room.”

  “Then how did she show up in O.R. 8 along with me?” Lani pursed her lips, waiting for a response that didn’t come. She walked away relishing the frustration which was evident in his flushed skin.

  He fell in step with her as she aimed toward the elevator. “She was on her way to nine when she heard the commotion where you were.” Dr. Risden pressed the down button. “This will be investigated further.”

  “Investigate all you like, but the result will still be the same.” Lani headed for the stairs. If she hadn’t left Sandra to go to the O.R., she would have questioned whether Sandra was responsible for the incident. No way could Sandra have beat her there. Why didn’t she confirm what O.R. Lani had been called to? What the hell was going on?

  Evidently, someone was setting her up to fail.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “What the hell do you mean all the women?” Aunt Bethany repeated like a scratched record.

  Jordan cleared his throat and tried not to wither under his aunt’s heated glare. “Really Auntie?” he countered before glancing at Mercury.

  Mercury touched Bethany’s hand. “Love, let him have his secrets. You don’t have to know all the man’s business.”

  “But he came up in here, asking to be all up in ours,” she protested, one hand riding up her hip.

  The muscular Cajun folded both arms across his massive chest. “And ours is public knowledge. Let. Things. Be.”

  “Not happening,” Bethany said with a flame in her eyes that could burn down the house. “He’s been angry at his father all these years for having multiple wives, and he’s out there in these streets doing the same thing.”

  “That’s not—”

  Mercury held up his hand to stave off Jordan’s protest and kept his sights on Bethany. “Ahny,” he whispered, using his special name for the love of his life. “I’m going to have a talk with my man right here. And I need you to cool off in another part of the house. You feel me?”

  She stiffened, shifted her gaze to Jordan, who met hers head-on. He’d never lied to his aunt, but he also never told anyone in his family about that part of his life. In all these years, they assumed he was living off the trust fund like Quinn, but if they’d taken a closer look, they would have noticed that his fund remained untouched and was now in the millions. Somehow Quinn knew it, though Jordan didn’t understand how because his brother didn’t have access to his accounts.

  A few seconds passed before Bethany slid out of the chair and trudged toward the door that led to the solarium. She paused, gave them a lingering look, and Mercury exhaled visibly. They waited patiently for a sassy comeback, but she said, “You know I love you, no matter what, right?”

  “I know,” Jordan replied, his tone much softer. “But there are some things a grown man can’t share with his aunt, no matter how cool she is.”

  She smirked. “So I’m the cool aunt?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Well, alrighty then.” Bethany nodded and with that, she sauntered out of the room with a little pep in her step.

  Mercury moved from his spot at the table and came to Jordan’s side. His eyebrow shot up, asking a question without saying a word.

  “The quick and dirty?” Jordan asked, snagging a homemade praline from a basket in the center of the table. “I’ve had six women in the last twelve years.” Actually seven, but he didn’t want to group Lani among his client count anymore.

  Mercury’s shoulders relaxed, then he blew Jordan off with a dismissive wave. “Oh, that’s not so bad. That’s less than the national average.”

  “Women, who…um …” He glanced in the direction his aunt had vanished, then leaned closer to Mercury and whispered, “Women who pay a nice slice of change for my … services.”

  His uncle’s eyebrows shot upward. He grimaced at first, but then his eyes twinkled, and he clamped his lips together as he tried to hold in laughter but failed—miserably. The more he tried, the more he chuckled. Finally, he was in full-out, belly-busting laughter.

  Jordan let out a frustrated breath as he waited for his uncle to calm himself.

  “How in the hell did you get into that?” Mercury leaned forward in his chair. “And I need more than a quick and dirty explanation for this one.”

  Jordan sipped his mostly cold coffee before taking a deep breath. “My father cut me off.”

  Eric Spears had stopped all monetary support in the middle of his first semester at university, making it nearly impossible for Jordan to recover. Eric fully expected Jordan to come crawling back. Instead, Jordan rebounded by joining a work-study program, landing two part-time jobs, and getting a few small scholarships. “Unfortunately, having to focus on how to stay in school caused my academic performance to suffer.”

  Mercury grimaced and polished off the remaining coffee in Bethany’s cup. “That had to be tough, but it doesn’t explain how you ended up getting paid for … your services.”

  “I saw several advertisements for male escorts.” Jordan dragged one hand across his jaw. “At the time, I dismissed it and walked past, but there were so many of them concentrated in one area that something caused me to double back and retrieve the flyer.”

  His life had changed forever on a particularly heart-breaking day during freshman year. That’s what drove him to call and schedule an interview.

  The agency’s representative explained over the phone that their company catered to an upscale clientele. When they saw him in person, they were almost drooling. He was charming, suave, and had a quiet way about him that they knew women would find mysterious and exciting. Lady Ari, the first client the agency set him up with, had done her best to cultivate that side of him.

  Mercury stared at him as if reading his thoughts. “Clearly it wasn’t just about money.”

  “Being in demand was the kind of ego-boost I didn’t realize I needed until I had it,” Jordan reluctantly admitted.

  He didn’t want to tell his uncle the only sexual experience he’d had up to that point was with women who’d considered him pass-through-territory on the way to Zach and Quinn. They were interested in securing their future, and his brothers were poster boys representing virile young men with a fortune behind them. Jordan’s first deep infatuation, Kim, was a particularly hard hit. He walked in and found her kneeling in front of Quinn, giving up services no man ever wanted to think of the woman he’s dating offering to someone else.

  “So is this how you met your woman?”

  “Yes.” Jordan smiled, thinking how grateful he was to have connected with Lani. “So, while I’m well-versed in the art of making love, none of that knowledge will assist me in keeping Lani in my life.”

  “And that has brought you to us?” Mercury asked, leaning back in the chair.

  “I want sage advice from people who got married and managed to stay that way. I respect what you and my aunt have together, and I’d like to learn from your successes and failures so I can have a better chance at a wonderful and long-lasting relationship with Lani.” He jutted a thumb in the direction of the solarium. “I didn’t necessarily want to discuss the obstacles with my aunt.”

  “Yeah, I can see where telling her that little slice of info might get you flayed and slayed.”

  Laughing, Jordan put his fist out for a pound and Mercury obliged. “I know that’s right. She can be like a bloodhound on the trail when she gets stuck on something.”

  Mercury grinned. “She won’t take kindly to you comparing her to a hunting dog, either. Better say she’s like a pat of butter on a hot biscuit.”

  Jordan tried to find the correlation between the two but gave up after a few seconds and dissolved into a fit of laughter.

  “You two jokers better not be laughing at me,” Bethany called from the small crack she’d afforded herself when she opened the door to peek inside.

  That made both men laugh even harder.

  Jordan held his sides because a little ache hit with the last round of chuckles. Yes, his Lani would fit right in with his family if he could change her mind about ending things.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jordan was a few steps away from his Jag, heading to the entrance of the Everett Center for Arts when he sensed a threatening presence. Every weekday, he sailed through the doors of the Everett Center and concentrated on the thing he loved to do—teach art and music appreciation to underprivileged children and youngsters with disabilities.

  Since he started the center and Kelsie’s Corner Cafe, it had expanded beyond his original vision. Now it also catered to autistic youth and was a place where mothers could leave their children with the assurance they would be cared for by a highly trained cadre of professionals. With his family’s history, Jordan had a special interest in keeping children in safe environments.

  Sensing danger outside this sanctuary unsettled him.

  Every instinct readied him to fight. He turned, and a vaguely familiar man was headed his way with two bodyguards flanking his sides.

  “What can I help you with?” Jordan asked, outwardly maintaining his composure while inwardly coiling his muscles just in case he needed to whip ass now and take names later.

  “Thought we could have a little chat.” He motioned for Jordan to move closer to his vehicle.

  Jordan’s feet remained planted. “Chat?” He tipped one brow. “About what?”

  “Your brother, Quinn.”

  A couple went past them. Though deep in conversation, they did a double take when they laid eyes on Hector’s menacing face. Conversation abruptly ended and they did a near power walk to put some distance between him and them.

  “What about him?” Jordan had known Hector since grammar school and was surprised that Quinn was in trouble with him, given that Hector was rumored to be working with a small arm of The Cartel.

  The two guards gave each other a speaking glance that wasn’t lost on the man who was obviously in charge.

  “Seems like you’re holding a package for him,” Hector replied, removing his glasses. “He says we need to get it from you directly.”

  “Well, he told you wrong. You don’t have any business with me.” Jordan scanned the street for anyone who might be a witness to the exchange just in case he needed them to testify on his behalf in court. No one to be found. Only a few pedestrians on the sidewalk who were too far away to record clear video if the situation deteriorated. “I didn’t make the debt and I’m certainly not going to settle up something I had nothing to do with.”

  With a huff, Hector asked, “You know who I am?”

  “Most definitely,” Jordan replied, then chuckled. “Hard to forget the boy I took out with a blow to the head in dodge ball. Gym class just wasn’t your thing.” Given his current size, it still isn’t.

  Hector’s smile was unexpected. He let out a belly laugh, and it eased the stance of the two men beside him. “That happened ‘cause I wasn’t looking.”

  “You know better than me that you can’t sleep when it comes to that game.”

  “True dat, Homes,” Hector said with a chuckle that quickly turned into a sneer. “So, what are we gonna do about your brother?”