A/N: Thanks to my pre-reader, Cejsmom!
Chapter 22
I stood panicking in the office hallway for longer than I should have. Finally, I got my act together and high-tailed it out the employee entrance and into the parking lot. I needed to pull myself together and didn't want an audience. I squinted as the sunshine was already heating the asphalt and glinting off the cars, belying the early spring season. Think, Bella, I commanded myself.
My first instinct was to call Edward, but I quickly discarded that idea. There was nothing he could do, and it would cause him undo anxiety. I had learned enough from my past mistakes to know that I would fill him in as soon as I knew what was happening, though. We were partners now.
I suddenly recalled the cryptic message from Rosalie this morning. I hastily punched the touch screen on my phone to return the call. It went to voice mail much to my frustration. I scrunched my eyes closed and tapped the phone against my forehead. I needed serious help. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I contemplated calling my mother. However, I was saved by my phone buzzing in my hand. I pressed the accept button and moved it to my ear. She didn't even wait for me to greet her.
"Bella, what the fuck? Sorry I didn't answer. I'm the middle of clinic," Rosalie's voice demanded.
"What?" I asked with trepidation. She wasn't acting normally, and my world was falling apart. I had no idea how to respond to all the balls in the air.
"You know that Emmett's a huge sports fan, right?" she began testily. "He reads The Chronicle's blog every morning while he drinks his coffee." She paused and dread crept into my chest. I knew where this was going. I braced myself to learn just how bad it might be.
"Are you aware that there is an article this morning that features your fellowship picture from Baylor College of Medicine's Graduate Medical Education website?" I gasped softly, realizing the worst-case scenario was occurring, but Rosalie wasn't finished. "I've never liked that picture. You look constipated. Why did you let them publish it?" she asked.
"Seriously, Rosalie," I choked. "Are you calling to critique my ability to be photogenic? And do you think I'd ever agree to let anyone publish my photo?" I asked incredulously. She laughed but there was an edge to it.
"Give me a minute!" she shouted.
"Sorry," I muttered, and she let out an exasperated sigh.
"Not you," she told me. "I'm in the hallway. I'm going in my office." I heard a click and figured she'd closed the door to give herself some privacy.
"Rosalie, don't make your patients wait because I'm having a crisis," I told her crossly. She snorted.
"I was in the middle of convincing a 5 foot one inch girl who weighs about 100 pounds that DD implants are a bad choice. I could use a break," she said frankly. Normally, I'd laugh at her comments, but I was too nervous to hear what she had to say.
"Well?" I asked. "What are you talking about? I haven't seen anything from The Chronicle. Why do they have my picture?"
"Because, apparently, you are the girlfriend of they city's new hero, Astros pitcher Edward Masen. And, according to someone named Paul Lahote, who is a high school baseball coach in The Woodlands, your relationship with said pro-baseball player spans almost a decade," she paused for effect while I struggled to understand what she was saying.
"Babe, Lahote is painting you as a fair weather Yoko Ono. Emmett aside, anyone who reads this is going to hate your guts," her voice trailed off at the end, and I understood that she was trying to be supportive and understanding. She just wasn't very good at that kind of stuff; I didn't mind because I kind of loved that about her.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I muttered and resumed tapping my phone against my forehead. Rosalie's distant shouting roused me from my reverie.
"Bella, are you all right?" she demanded. "What's going on?" I sighed.
"I went to Edward's demo with the pitching coach last night, like I told you," I related. "Carlisle was there, and he overheard me telling a reporter that I was Edward's girlfriend. So, I'm assuming that she published the article, and Carlisle just kicked me out of clinic," I summarized.
"What the fuck, Bella?" she shouted. "Why were you talking to a reporter? And what do you mean that Carlisle kicked you out of clinic?" I took a deep breath.
"She asked me how I knew Edward. And I could see that he was watching and could hear my reply. I wanted to be real and give him a sign that I was serious about us. That I wouldn't drop him for my job, like I did before," I defended myself. "Alice was there," I added as if that made it better.
"What did she say?" asked Rosalie. I sighed.
"She said my timing could have been better," I admitted. Rosalie chuckled.
"No, shit, Swan," she confirmed. "All right, tell me about the Carlisle bit."
"Well, he overhead the comment, and this morning when I arrived at work, he told me to leave. He said that we had a meeting scheduled with Volturi at 12:30," I told her. She was silent for a beat.
"Shit, the Chairman, huh?" she finally breathed. "So, what do you think Carlisle wants?"
"What does he want?" I repeated. "I don't know that he wants anything. I think he's mad that I lied."
"But why?" she repeated. "Your relationship spans more years than most mentor/mentees, and you both seem to feed into some sort of unhealthy symbiosis based on what I've seen over the years." I scoffed.
"Carlisle is unforgiving in his standards. You did him a solid back in the day, and he felt obligated to repay it. Now, you've betrayed him, and I'm concerned he'll want blood. I've never thought he was normal. He's like a robot," she said.
"I didn't betray him, Rosalie. This had nothing to do with him," I complained.
"I hear you," she agreed, "but I've told you before that I think Carlisle is not all there. You always shot me down before when I said that. I'm afraid you'll learn the hard way that I'm always right." Her words chilled me. Even Alice had noticed that Rosalie was uncannily correct in assessing most situations.
"Bella," Rosalie called, pulling me from my musings.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"For what it's worth, Emmett thinks you're bad ass. He always considered Yoko Ono awfully cute," she said, mirth infusing her words.
"Thanks, Rosalie," I said gratefully. She had defused the seriousness of our conversation. "Emmett's a doll. Smack his ass for me," I instructed. She giggled.
"No chance of that not happening," she quipped as we hung up.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
I still stood alone in the McNair parking lot. It was getting hotter, and I was officially sweating in my long sleeved blouse and wool slacks. After Rosalie's revelation, I knew I should call Edward right away. I still had over 3 hours until I need to meet Carlisle and Dr. Volturi. I punched on his speed dial button, and he answered almost immediately.
"You've seen it," he said in lieu of a greeting.
"No," I admitted, "but I talked to Rosalie, and she told me." I paused.
"My PR manager is pretty angry at me," Edward added with more remorse in his voice. "She was right there and had no idea what was happening with that reporter. Since I didn't tell her about you and I, she wasn't paying attention. I was trying to keep it quiet for your sake, but if I'd just clued her in, she could have either stopped what happened or stopped the article. I made things worse." I didn't want him to beat himself up further, but I knew I had to be honest here.
"Edward, Dr. Cullen threw me out of clinic. He's making me meet with the Chairman over lunch," I told him cautiously. He swore under his breath.
"I'm so sorry, Bella. I've been nothing but trouble and distraction for you." There was far too much self-hatred in his voice for my taste.
"Shut the hell up, Edward," I told him, surprising myself with my boldness. " I made this choice, don't you dare try and second guess it for me. We'll figure it out." He didn't say anything for a minute, but I wasn't worried.
"So, Rosalie tells me that Paul Lahote is a quoted source in the story," I ventured. Edward chuckled darkly.
"Yeah, that asshole. We have been on the outs since the night I told you about, the night I intended to get in touch with you. He's a washed up has been. I could give a shit about him. I know the media is going to question me about him, and I won't hold back. When they look into his background, it will all check out. This is literally his five minutes," Edward promised with satisfaction.
"Good." That was all I could say.
"I can take care of you, Bella, no matter what happens," Edward finally said.
"I know that, Edward, but you'll never have to do that," I promised. I knew he worried about what I hadn't said. I would never let him do it.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
I'd spent about an hour randomly pacing in the parking lot, and now it was getting way too hot for me. I was starting to sweat through my proper clinic attire. I began to walk purposefully, knowing I was about to invite a world of interrogation but not knowing where else to wait out my purgatory. I shook my head as I finally passed through the automatic sliding door and entered the lobby of the VA. It seemed silly that I ever found this space intimidating.
The harried nurses and technicians barely smiled or nodded at me as I made my way through to the fellow's office. It was empty when I entered, and I lowered myself into one of the rotating chairs with a huff. I figured I'd be unmolested for a while. Only Emmett was in the building, and I was sure he'd be quite busy with patients.
I was right to hide in that particular location. No one bothered me for the next hours, and I spent time looking up the infamous article. Rosalie was right; it was an unflattering photo of me. Public consternation would be no doubt rampant when trying to reconcile charismatic Edward with the rigid girl in the photo taken on the first day of her fellowship.
The article had, of course, been written by the blonde and buxom, Heidi. I should have been more cautious in my declarations, it seemed. I wondered where she had located Paul so quickly. He must have been a source of hers long before Thursday evening for her to pull this together so quickly. What a complete asshole.
I passed Emmett in the hallway as I left to walk to the department offices for the dreaded meeting. He slowed to a stop and gave me a questioning look. I shrugged and smiled at him sheepishly.
"What a way to get famous, Swan," he said mildly. "I always thought it would be one of your articles in JBJS."
"I don't know what to tell you McCarty," I retorted. "When I do something, I do it right." We both chuckled uncomfortably, and he grew serious.
"Have you spoken to Rosalie?" he asked. I nodded. "We're here for you whatever you need. Were you looking for me?" I shook my head.
"No, Carlisle heard me talking to the reporter last night, and I expect he also saw the article. He kicked me out of clinic. I'm headed to a meeting with him and Volturi right now." Emmett whistled and stared at me gravely. He put his large hand on my shoulder.
"Let us know you're all right, OK?" he requested. I nodded again with a lump in my throat.
"I gottta go," I told him before I could get choked up. I avoided his eyes and hurried on.
I made the walk quickly moving from warm sunshine to chilly shade as I passed between the tall buildings that made up the heart of the Texas Medical Center. I hurried up the elevator and into the outer receiving area of Dr. Volturi's office. Gianna, the longtime department secretary, was at her desk and glanced up when she heard me enter. She smiled at me, obviously having no idea what today's meeting entailed.
"Hi, Dr. Swan. Dr. Volturi and Dr. Cullen are already in there. You can go ahead and join them," she said. My heart sank, and I checked my watch. I was right on time. Obviously, Carlisle had gotten there early to dish about my transgressions. I held my head high and breezed down the short hallway and through the open door into the office. I paused in the doorway.
Dr. Volturi sat behind his large, imposing desk with a bemused expression. His bald head shone in the fluorescent lighting. I'd been inside this office multiple times and had always admired it, imagining myself inside a similar one at some point in the future. The wall behind Dr. Volturi was lined by shelves, which were filled with many leather-bound journals and endless textbooks.
Carlisle was seated in one of the two chairs opposite the desk and glared at me when he saw me standing there. I remained awkwardly where I was waiting for further instructions, unsure how to proceed never having been in trouble before.
"Bella," Dr. Volturi said in a soothing tone, "have a seat." I tried not to look at Carlisle as I moved to sit in the chair next to him. I kept my eyes fixed on Dr. Volturi.
"It pains me to see the two of you here like this. Carlisle, why don't you explain why you felt the need to call this meeting," he instructed. I heard Carlisle swallow loudly next to me and turned to face him. He looked nervous but determined when he met my eyes. I could see his deep disappointment in me reflected back.
"Well, Aro, I learned some disturbing information last night that was further confirmed by a gratuitous article on The Houston Chronicle's sports blog this morning. It seems that Bella has had an on and off again relationship with Edward Masen for several years. He has been our patient for the last few weeks, and she failed to disclose that information to me," Carlisle said slowly. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Dr. Volturi held up his hand.
"Bella, you'll have a turn, I promise, but please let Carlisle finish," he requested. I snapped my jaw shut, my anger and outrage building.
"Not only has she violated the rules regarding a patient-doctor relationship, but she outright lied to me on multiple occasions. I don't think we can tolerate that kind of insubordination and dishonesty in one of our trainees. Not to mention how badly this article reflects on our department's reputation," Carlisle paused to look over at me and then back to Dr. Volturi. "I think our only choice is to let her go." I gasped and felt the blood rush to my face. I couldn't keep silent.
"You've got to be kidding me," I nearly shouted. Carlisle flinched and subtly scooted his chair away from me. Dr. Volturi intervened.
"These are serious allegations, Carlisle. Do you think you might be overreacting a little?" he asked. Carlisle minutely shook his head and wouldn't meet either of our eyes, even though I was leaning forward in my chair determined to catch his.
"May I say something?" I asked forcefully. Dr. Volturi didn't seem rattled and nodded for me to go ahead. His attitude had me feeling slightly hopeful.
"I dated Edward for a few weeks when I was a third year medical student. I hadn't laid eyes on him or spoken to him since that time when he appeared in our clinic several weeks ago. I told Carlisle that same day that I had known Edward before," I turned to glare at him, but he kept his face resolutely turned away from me.
"Our relationship was strictly professional until this past weekend. I told Carlisle yesterday that I was no longer going to be involved in his care. Besides, he's Carlisle's patient and not mine. And the reporter's source, Paul Lahote, is a liar. You'll just have to take my word on that," I insisted. Dr. Volturi raised his eyebrows.
"So Carlisle is completely mistaken then?" he asked peering over the top of his glasses. I cast my eyes down in embarrassment.
"Well, not entirely," I admitted begrudgingly. "I didn't come completely clean with him. I could have explained the situation sooner. But I don't believe I've done anything wrong. I have not compromised patient care," I insisted. Dr. Volturi continued to study me, but Carlisle couldn't take it.
"This is ridiculous! Bella, you have been completely inappropriate since Edward Masen turned up. I have no idea how we could ever trust you to handle VIP patients in the future. And you encouraged me to date a patient! I should have known your integrity was questionable at that point. There is no room for emotions at work," he sucked in breath to continue his tirade but I was having none of it. Dr. Volturi was forgotten as we turned to face each other, eyes blazing.
"You are insane!" I shouted back. "Esme Platt was our patient for one day! And I apologized for trespassing in your personal life. Isn't that what you're doing to me now?" I softened my tone and tried not to choke up as I went on.
"Carlisle, I've looked up to you for years. I wanted to be you! But since Edward came back into my life, I'm having second thoughts about that. You said you'd do anything to support me. Was that not true?" He looked away again to avoid my intense gaze. I could tell I was making him uncomfortable. But, his allegations and reaction today stung beyond belief. He was my mentor, but I'd always thought we were also friends. Neither he nor Dr. Volturi made a move to stop me talking, so I kept going.
"I'm willing to admit that my life was empty. All I cared about was work. Now I'm willing to change, but I guess you're too rigid to stand it. I don't want to end up like you!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Carlisle questioned hotly. "My life is absolutely not empty. You're the one who cheapens relationships. And we are not and never were friends. I have been remiss in allowing you to call me by my first name. I regret that. This has always been a strictly professional relationship. Your confusion on that matter only highlights my point."
"Enough!" Dr. Volturi shouted. Then, he sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes with both of his fists. "I get enough of this crap at home when my teenage twins go at each other. I don't need it here." He replaced his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
"Bella," he pointed at me, "this publicity is a bit sensational for the department, and also distracting. I'm not pleased that we are in this position right now. What happens if I tell you to cool it with Mr. Masen?" My heart dropped into my toes. This was it, the moment of truth. I had to choose between Edward and my lifelong dream. But somehow the choice seemed easy, given everything that had transpired. I meant it when I said I didn't want to end up like Carlisle. His miserable pale face was my future if I made the wrong choice now. So, I looked Dr. Volturi in the eye and smirked at him.
"Then, I walk and so does he. He'll find care elsewhere, probably at Memorial Hermann since his father works there," I told him. So that's what it felt like to have a backbone, I thought. I definitely should have tried it sooner. Dr. Volturi sighed and leaned his cheek into his palm, his eyes never leaving my face.
"That's what I thought," he muttered. Carlisle sucked in breath for another tirade, but Dr. Volturi straightened up, holding a hand up to halt him.
"Carlisle, Bella has been a very valuable member of this team for years. Do you really think this minor hiccup is worth firing her? Because I think you're overreacting, frankly," he told him.
"I can't work with her," Carlisle replied firmly. "I'll never trust her again, and it pains me to watch her manipulate you by threatening you with one of our VIP patients and her stepfather's reputation. If you keep her, then it's against my recommendation, and she'll have to finish up with Alistair." He turned his head away again.
I stared at him with shock and hurt. I had never once used my stepfather's name, not in all the years I'd courted this department. Carlisle was being supremely unfair. It occurred to me that he was completely socially dysfunctional, destined to live a life of misery in a prison of his own making. Human relationships apparently made no sense to him.
His relationship with Siobahn wasn't real, and he'd had no idea how to handle Trey back when he challenged him. Carlisle and I had only gotten along because I almost as dysfunctional as he was before I woke up when Edward came back. I was floored how close I'd come to sharing Carlisle's fate. Suddenly, this was no longer just about me being with Edward. It was about what was right for my future, right for me, and me alone.
"Phil Dwyer has never been a part of this. I hope you didn't give me this position based on my relationship with him," I said coldly, looking only at Dr. Volturi. He looked embarrassed.
"Of course not, Bella, you've earned your place here. You're an excellent surgeon. I'm trying to smooth things over," he said with a hard look at Carlisle.
"Don't bother," I said. "I don't want to work with him anymore either. I'm perfectly OK finishing out these last three months with Dr. Alistair."
"But, Bella, it's not just these three months, as I'm sure you realize," Dr. Volturi countered. He rested his elbows in front of him and spread his hands helplessly in the air. "Surely, you know you're the only real candidate for the faculty position." Carlisle let out a disbelieving laugh next to me, and Dr. Volturi gave him another hard look.
"I'm very sorry, Sir," I replied, feeling a thrill run up my spine as I prepared to speak words I'd never in a million years thought I'd say. "I wouldn't touch this faculty job with a ten foot pole. I plan to accept an offer from Texas Orthopedic Hospital. But I appreciate every opportunity you've given me so much." I said this last with a sincerity that I felt to my very core. Dr. Volturi stared at me unhappily. He glanced over at where Carlisle sat with a blank, impassive face with a decidedly more angry expression.
"I'm sorry to hear that Bella," he finally said. "I guess you'll be in clinic at the VA on Monday with Dr. Alistair." I nodded to let him know it was settled. I stood to leave, needing to get far away from here immediately. I paused at the door before opening it.
"Sir, I'm going to need at least a week off around the end of April or beginning of May," I told him. He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm assuming you still have vacation leave left," he said seriously. I smiled wryly.
"Sir, I haven't taken a single vacation day since I started residency," I told him. He gave me an incredulous look, but I went on. "And my boyfriend," I emphasized the word and saw Carlisle wince, "will be starting in the Minors around that time when he's finally off the Disabled List. I'm going to be there to support him," I declared. Then, I turned to leave. Dr. Volturi was smiling when I went.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
I was practically hyperventilating as I speed-walked my way back to the McNair parking lot to collect my car. I called Edward on the way.
"Are you home?" I asked without preamble.
"What happened?" he demanded, but I didn't answer.
"Are you?" I asked again.
"Yes," he replied cautiously.
"I'm on my way," I told him. "And I'm bringing something for us to look over." He tried to ask more questions, but I insisted that we discuss it in person.
I drove quickly to my apartment and strode purposefully across my living room into the bedroom when I arrived. I opened up a drawer in my desk and retrieved the envelope containing the TOH offer from where I'd stashed it last week. I tossed it onto the bed and eyed it while I shoved some overnight things into a gym bag. Edward hadn't invited me, but I planned to spend the weekend with him. Circumstances had created a monster, and I suddenly had no problem with asking for what I wanted.
When the bag was packed, I carried it into the living room and dropped it on the floor next to the couch. I sat and twirled the envelope between my fingers for a few seconds, then finally tore open the flap. The contract was about three pages long and contained the typical legalese, but I focused on the offered salary, time to partnership offer, and benefits package. Then, I leaned against the back of the couch and burst into tears.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Edward met me in the lobby again, but this time there was a middle-aged woman seated behind the security desk. She gave us both a long and possibly unfriendly look. I wondered if she, too, had read the blog. I had no idea it was so popular. Edward's brows were drawn together when we entered the elevator. He had insisted on carrying my bag, and he swung it back and forth in agitation.
"Please tell me you're all right before I lose my mind," he begged.
"Everything's great," I assured him with a huge smile. He looked curiously at the envelope that I kept crinkled in my palm.
"What's that?" he asked.
"I'm going to show you," I promised. The elevator dinged on his floor, and he followed behind me to the door, only stepping around me to unlock it.
"I'm going to have to get you a key," he remarked with a smile, and I felt no frisson of fear or tingle of panic. I wanted a key. When, I didn't comment or frown, his smile grew impossibly larger.
When we were inside, Edward put the bag on the floor next to the door and started to ask me if I wanted something to drink, but I attacked him. He grunted with surprise and allowed me to push him back against the closed front door. I ringed his neck with my clasped fingers and forced his face down to mine. As soon as he caught on to what was happening, he was a willing participant. He scooped me up bridal style, eliciting a small shriek from me.
He made his way quickly to the bedroom and dropped me on its soft surface in a repeat of the previous night. I bounced and tossed the envelope on the bedside table without breaking eye contact. He toed off his shoes and then lunged toward me predatorily. He loomed over me, pressing me into the pillow top.
"I'm going to let you distract me for a few minutes, but then you're going to start at the beginning and tell me exactly what happened. I'm assuming you're happy right now based on the dopey grin," Edward teased. I ran my fingers under his t-shirt and up his bare chest and felt his abs tighten.
"Just a few minutes?" I asked coyly. He didn't answer. He just pulled his t-shirt off and pressed his mouth against mine.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
More than a few minutes later but still middle of the afternoon, Edward and I lounged in his bed. We were still naked and tangled in his sheets. The duvet had ended up on the floor. He leaned in every few minutes to kiss my cheek or my forehead, and I absently brushed the hair off his still slightly damp forehead. I had just rehashed my confrontation with Carlisle and shown Edward the contract.
"So, the salary is more than 1/3 higher than what Baylor was offering?" he confirmed.
"Yep," I answered, short on vocabulary in my blissed out state. He kissed the corner of jaw and chuckled.
"And you only have to work there for a year before they offer you a partnership buy-in. Plus, you have an extra week of vacation with Texas Orthopedic Hospital," Edward ticked off the other things I'd learned when I finally took the time to look over Dr. Ateara's offer.
"Yes and yes," I sang. "But the best part is that they'll give me a clinical research budget, and even though I won't get to work with residents, they are starting a relationship with the local physical therapy school through Whitlock and Associates. I'll still get to mentor physical therapy students." Edward kissed me again, and this time it grew more heated. We were both breathless when we broke apart.
"Why didn't you read the contract until today?" he asked me. "The offer is so good that you might have already accepted it if you had. All this angst might have been for nothing." He flopped over on his back and looked up at the ceiling. I put my index finger under his chin and turned him to look at me.
"I was afraid then, but I'm not afraid now," I told him simply. "Finally," I added.
"Finally," he echoed as he brought our bodies flush together again.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
A/N: Well, we are down to one more chapter and an epilogue. And no cliffhanger this time! Aren't you all proud?
Several people have asked about doing EPOV for this story. I was a little nervous that I could not find Edward's voice, but I think I'd like to try it. So, once the epilogue is posted, I'm going to write an EPOV outtake chapter. I'll take suggestions. Which chapters in EPOV would interest you most? Chapter 1? Maybe the trip to the ballpark? What Edward was doing during the week between the ballpark and showing up at Bella's apartment? Or something from his time in Atlanta? Maybe the night they met? Let me know…