Her Mr. Right?. Karen Smith Rose
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needing to lose weight apply?” asked a male board member who was about twenty pounds overweight.
“It would,” Isobel answered, then continued, “As long as the patient is being monitored by his doctor.”
“Why a warm-water pool?” the man next to Neil asked. “Who would want to swim laps in warm water?”
Isobel didn’t seem ruffled at all as she answered calmly, “If a patient can swim laps, he probably wouldn’t need the use of this pool. But anyone with arthritis, fibromyalgia, sports injuries, even continued rehabilitation after a stroke would benefit from a warm-water pool.” She gestured to a pretty young woman. “Melanie, do you want to explain the benefits?”
Melanie Miller introduced herself as a physical therapist and Neil listened with half an ear. His attention was still on Isobel—her sparkling brown eyes, the professional way she fielded questions, the energy she brought to a room. She was wearing a conservative royal-blue suit, yet the silky top under her jacket was feminine. She wore a silver chain around her neck with one dangling pearl. He was too far away to catch the scent of perfume but he remembered the honeysuckle sweetness he’d inhaled on Saturday.
While Melanie answered questions, Isobel took her seat again, and her gaze met his, once, twice, three times. After a moment or two, maybe feeling the same connection he did, she looked down at her notes, at another board member, anywhere but at him.
Was this attraction one-sided?
Damn it, there shouldn’t be any attraction. Isobel was under investigation just like everyone else.
The discussion continued for about a half hour and then, as at most meetings like this, nothing was decided except that the hospital would have to consult with a fund-raising expert.
Randall took the floor once more. “I’ll send a memo to all of you as to the time and place of our next meeting. We’ll be sure J.D. is present so he can give us his thoughts, as well as any other staff member who is interested. Thank you all for your time. Your attendance is appreciated.”
Neil took note of which board members spoke to other board members, and of how Melanie conversed animatedly with Isobel. Most important, he noticed who seemed to be the most hostile, who ignored him, and who didn’t seem to care that he was there. Nonchalantly he stood and walked out into the hall, catching bits and pieces of conversations.
When Isobel emerged, she saw him propped near a window, merely observing. The hallway was empty for the moment as she approached him. “I was surprised to see you at the meeting.”
“I’m poking my nose into everybody’s business. That should ruffle feathers and shake loose some information.”
Another board member exited the conference room, spied Neil, and headed in the opposite direction.
“I’m sorry everyone’s being so cool to you.”
He shrugged. “It goes with the territory. I have a thick hide. I can take it.”
“I imagine you can, but it’s not a pleasant way to work.”
Much of his work wasn’t pleasant, but it was challenging. The only thing he didn’t like particularly was all the traveling. That traveling had broken up his marriage. At least that’s what he and Sonya had blamed it on. Now he wasn’t so sure. He’d done a lot of soul-searching since his divorce and a contributing factor was definitely his penchant for keeping his own counsel, for not letting anyone get too close, including his ex-wife. During the marriage he hadn’t realized he was closing Sonya out. But afterward…afterward he’d understood he’d closed people out since his brother had died when Neil was in high school. He had good reasons for wanting to protect himself, for not confiding in anyone, for dodging his feelings. Preventing self-disclosure had become a habit, a habit he’d taken with him into his marriage.
Skipping over Isobel’s comment, he said, “You seem to be the go-to person for Randall on this project.”
“Peter Wilder suggested Mr. Randall include me in the discussion.”
“The Dr. Wilder who was chief of staff after his father died?”
“That was only temporary. Peter’s not a paper-pusher. He likes treating patients. But yes, he’s the one.”
“And Peter Wilder is Ella Wilder’s brother, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And also Dr. David Wilder’s brother—the physician who was called in to help with the little girl who needed plastic surgery.”
“Yes. Their father was well-loved as chief of staff. He was an extraordinary man. His children are as dedicated as he was. Except…”
“Except?” Neil prompted.
“Anna Wilder. She’s Peter, Ella and David’s adopted sister. Ironically, she happens to work for Northeastern Health- Care.”
Neil looked shocked. “Now that I hadn’t heard.”
Isobel looked troubled. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’m glad you did. Isobel, I need to know the ins and outs of what’s going on here right now. That’s the only way I’ll get to the truth.”
Two more board members and Owen Randall emerged from the conference room. All three exchanged looks when they saw Neil and Isobel together talking.
Isobel’s cheeks reddened and she murmured, “I have to get back to work.”
“You’ll stop at my office before you go home?”
“Yes.” Without a “goodbye,” “see you later” or “it was nice talking to you,” she hurried to the elevator.
Randall was staring after Isobel thoughtfully.
Neil would give her a couple of minutes to get away from him and then he’d take the elevator to his office. Better yet, maybe he’d just take the stairs.
He knew why Isobel had hurried away. She was a member of this hospital community. She had respect here and lots of friends. She didn’t want to be seen consorting with the enemy.
Neil hated the idea of being Isobel’s enemy. His job had never interfered with a personal relationship with a woman before.
But there was no personal relationship here. He was just going to do his job and return to Boston.
So why had Isobel’s rushing away gotten to him?
Chapter Three
Neil definitely had a height advantage.
When Isobel entered his office and he stood, she felt small. His size could be intimidating if he wanted it to be.
He’d been working at the table again, printouts spread all over it. He motioned to the extra chair. “Did you get a breather or did you come straight from working?”
“No breather. I had a consultation with one of the doctors about a patient.”
She lowered her briefcase and purse to the floor and sank into the chair. She knew she had to be alert and on guard in this setting with Neil. Maybe in all settings with Neil. She didn’t know if he separated the personal from the professional and couldn’t take the chance that he didn’t. She’d been a little too open during their lunch, not that she’d revealed anything she shouldn’t have. She wasn’t a guarded person by nature. But she didn’t know what Neil might use against her, against other personnel, against the hospital.
He looked at her as if sensing her apprehension. “Isobel, I’m not going to attack you,” Neil said quietly.
“Of course, you aren’t. I mean, I didn’t think you would.”
“As soon as you sat in that chair, your shoulders squared, your chin came up and you looked at me as if I were the enemy. I’m not.”