“What’s going on, Jace?” Mick asks.
The board is comprised of Mick and four other members, some doctors, and some administrators.
“I have a request,” I begin. “I’d like to requisition the money to hire a full-time executive assistant.”
“You have an assistant,” Olive Sanders says, pursing her lips.
“And she does fine with my schedule, but I want someone with more experience and more expertise in medical practices. The person I want to hire won’t come cheap, but I feel that it’s important for my wellbeing.”
“Go on,” Edward Cussler says.
“Frankly, working close to twenty hours a day isn’t working well for me. I love the position, and I know that I’m good at it, but bringing on a well-qualified executive assistant will help immensely with the amount of paperwork that I have every day, on top of the surgeries I still perform.”
“Many chiefs choose to back off on their surgery loads,” Edwards suggests, but I shake my head.
“That’s exactly the opposite of what I want. I’m an excellent surgeon, and I hope that you agree that my primary function here should be in the operating room.”
“We don’t disagree with that,” Mick says.
“And frankly, we don’t want you here for twenty hours a day,” Edward replies. “A burned-out doctor doesn’t do anyone any good, and is dangerous. We need you to perform at the best of your ability. I don’t see a problem with allocating the funds for a full-time assistant.”
He rambles off a yearly salary budget that makes me smile. I even have someone in mind for the position, and they will gladly take that salary.
“I’m engaged, and I’m about to become a father,” I tell them. “I know I don’t have to tell you that, but I want to be as transparent as possible with you. While the hospital and our patients are incredibly important to me, so is my fiancée and our child. It’s my hope that with the addition of my assistant, I can decrease to about twelve-hour days, barring any emergencies. Five days a week, of course.”
“That sounds reasonable to me,” Olive says. “Congratulations, Dr. Crawford.”
“Thank you.”
After discussing a few more specifics, I hurry back to my office to make some calls and get going on my way to balancing my life. I need to reschedule a couple of things, and actually delegate a few more, which isn’t easy for a type-A personality like me, but it’s absolutely necessary.
I shoot a text to Joy.
Can you please meet with me at my place this evening? Seven o’clock?
I grab my keys and am heading out the door when she replies.
I’ll be there.
~Joy~
6:57.
I’m ridiculous.
This is Jace. He’s my best friend and the love of my life, and I’m sitting outside in my SUV like a chickenshit.
There’s no good reason to be scared, and yet, here I am, terrified.
I jump at the knock and put a hand to my chest as I roll the window down.
“What are you doing out here?” Jace asks. God, it’s good to see him. His eyes are warm and eating me up like he’s happy to see me, too.
I hope he’s glad to see me. I wouldn’t blame him if he gave me a piece of his mind and kicked me out after the way I acted last night.
“I’m waiting for seven,” I reply and glance at the clock.
6:59.
“Come on.” He opens my door, and I cut the engine, reach for my handbag, and get out of the car. He shuts the door and reaches for my hand, which fills me with so much relief I want to cry. “You don’t ever wait outside, Joy. This is your home, too.”
He ushers me inside and takes my coat. Once I’ve toed off my shoes, he takes my hand again and leads me into the living room.
With the arrival of fall, it gets dark so much earlier in the evening. But Seattle is lit up before us through the windows. He has the gas fireplace lit. It’s long and filled with blue stones that glimmer from the light of the fire.
It’s beautiful.
So, I stand in front of it, my arms wrapped around my middle while I try to pull my thoughts together.
“Joy, I’d like to talk.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I want to talk, too, I’m just trying to figure out what to say.”
“Well, I’ll start then. Please, come sit with me.”
I turn and look at him, sitting on the edge of the couch with his arms resting on his legs, his hands hanging loosely between his knees. He watches me intently as if he’s trying to see inside my head.
“I’ve had some time to think,” he begins, and for the first time, it occurs to me that he might have asked me here to formally break up with me.
Fuck.
I take a deep breath and sit beside him, but before he says anything, he pins me against the couch and kisses the ever-loving hell out of me. His hands dive into my hair, holding on tightly as his lips caress mine, brushing back and forth until I’m a squirming pile of mush from wanting him.
When he pulls back for air, I breathe, “Wow.”
“This is who we are, Joy. This is you and me. Always. Even when it’s hard. When we fight and when we’re happy. We love each other.”
“I love you so much,” I murmur, my voice cracking with emotion. “And I owe you the biggest apology in the history of apologies.”
“Shh.”
“No, it’s true.” I sit up, forcing him to back away and listen. “I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you last night. It was the hurt talking, the surprise from finding out about the baby, and just . . . everything. I told you before that I’m proud of you, and I am. I’m so damn proud.”
He reaches over and takes my hand in his, listening. “But then I turned around and punished you for being successful, and that’s not fair. I promise to never do that to you again, Jace.”
“Thank you. And I’m sorry that I’ve been MIA,” he says, pulling my hand up to kiss my knuckles. “I’ve been overwhelmed, to say the least, but that’s not an excuse for not communicating with you.”
“We’ll do better,” I insist. “But I have more to apologize for. I’m sorry about the way I told you about the baby. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that in anger. When I found out yesterday, and then you invited me to dinner, I was excited to tell you at the restaurant.”
“And then I was hours late, making you wait for me. That’s not going to happen again, sweetheart. I promise.”
“I was frustrated,” I admit. “But again, not a good excuse. I sounded like a brat, and I’m sorry.”
“I think that we’ve had a lot of life changes recently, and we’re both trying to get our footing,” he says, pushing my hair back behind my ear. “Are you happy about the baby?”
I smile, feeling my eyes fill with tears. “Yeah. I’m excited. I’d never really given motherhood much thought because I was always so career-driven, but now that it’s happening, well, I don’t think I could be happier.”
“I’m so glad,” he says, closing his eyes in relief. “I’m happy, too. And I know that my job isn’t super conducive to being a good dad—”
“That’s bullshit,” I reply fiercely, “and I was horrible to throw that in your face.”
“You weren’t wrong,” he says, frowning. “You should know that I’ve made some adjustments at work.”
“You did not give up the chief position.” I feel myself going pale at the thought, but he shakes his head no.
“No, I don’t think I could. I worked too hard for it, Joy. But I did hire an excellent executive assistant who’s going to come on and take over the majority of the paperwork and scheduling. I’m hoping to whittle my work hours down to no more than twelve hours a day, five days a week. Here.”
He reaches for a book on the coffee table and opens it up.
“A planner?” I ask and then laugh. “I should have known. Only you, Dr. Crawford.”
“Hey, I’m organized,” he says with a smile. “This is for both of us. I’ve already written in what my schedule looks like for the next month. As you can see, the next two weeks are still very busy because I’m training my new assistant, but it starts to open up a bit after that.”