Chapter Eighty-Seven

Leah didn't speak all the way back to Angela's house even though Angela and Trapper had a lively conversation almost the entire way. As they walked into the house, Trapper said, "Angela, I just don't see that there's much more we can do."

"What you will both do tonight is laugh, dance and charm the pants off of them. And when they ask questions, answer them without stumbling. Are you up to that?"

Trapper stood holding the door for the ladies. "We both know this inside and out. I don't see how they could ask a question we couldn't answer."

"Good. Now, I have a list of questions. I'm going to drill you for the next hour, and then we're getting ready to go."

Trapper leaned back against the bedroom door watching Leah as she undressed and powdered herself top to bottom. "That smells good. What is it?"

She handed him the round box before she turned toward the bathroom. "Name's on the bottom."

Tossing the box over to the bed, he reached out and grabbed her hand, turning her around. "What's wrong?" he asked as he pulled her into him.

Opening her mouth, she shook her head, and then closed it again, letting out a long breath. "I need to start getting ready or we'll be late."

He turned around with his arms around her and trapped her against the door. "Then we'll be late," he said, looking into her eyes. She tried to turn away, but he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look at his. "You haven't said more than ten words since we left the hospital. What is this about?"

"It's about wondering what the hell I'm doing," she snapped. "It's about you…and me…and how I could possibly think for even a minute that this…we…would work."

Letting her go, he walked to the bed and sat down, running his hand over his head, and then letting his arms rest on his thighs. "What did Angela say to you?"

"Why are you blaming this on her?"

"Because you were fine until I left you with her in the waiting area. When I came back you were already clammed up." Shaking her head again, she avoided his gaze and went into the bathroom, closing the door. He took a deep breath and purposefully left the bedroom in search of Angela. He found her in the other bedroom, stripped down to her bra and panties.

"Wha…What are you doing in here? Get out!"

A sneer appeared on Trapper's face. "Don't flatter yourself. I've seen that a thousand times at the hospital," he said, looking her up and down. "What the hell did you say to Leah in that waiting room?"

Angela made a short, clipped laugh. "I told her she needed to wake up. I told her it was time for her to let the doubts go; that she had a second chance with you. Do you know what she said? She said you would never change your life for her. That your job destroyed your first marriage." Trapper stood with his mouth open, confounded. "She's not counting on things being any different."

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he slowly backed out of the room and quietly closed the door. He went back to his room, and stood facing that closed door, thinking she should know how he felt by now. When he finally entered, she was still in the bathroom, so he went to the closet and took out his tux. As he undressed he thought about how he could broach the subject of his divorce, how he had tried to save his marriage and what ultimately doomed it. Then he laughed at himself. He didn't owe her an explanation. If she had a problem with him, it was between them, and should have nothing to do with how his first marriage ended. He knew what Leah wanted, but she'd have to tell him herself and hear his answer before she'd believe him. Then again, she still might not believe him. Maybe it was just as well they were having issues tonight. He'd have no trouble staying away from her at the dinner party.

Trapper, Leah and Angela all ended up at separate tables, but not because they planned it that way. Leah was seated at a table with the technical consultant and a female committee member and the few other applicants who had included technology upgrades. Trapper was seated with several other men and women with a medical background and a male committee member. Angela considered herself seated with the leftovers; no one of great importance, though she knew it didn't matter. Except for dinner, most people would be either dancing or mingling in an adjoining room. She would be in the mingling crowd, listening to the aftermath of Trapper or Leah's conversations.

"Tell me, Dr. McIntyre, said one of the Congressmen at his table. "When's the last time you needed a microvascular surgeon?"

"The day before I left to come here," he said, smiling. "We had a young man come in through emergency with a leg severed just below the knee. He had been cutting trees with a chain saw, slipped and fell…on the chain saw."

"What were you able to do for him?"

"Well, nothing until we could find a surgeon qualified to reattach it. We found someone in Seattle and flew him down. He did the surgery the next day. We were lucky this time. Most times, we can't get qualified people in before the severed limb is no longer viable."

"And how often do you have to deal with severed limbs?"

"Several times a week. Mostly fingers. But then we do several surgeries every day dealing with the fine vessels in the eyes, heart and ears. Many times, we'll schedule those where recovery isn't probable without microvascular intervention in advance, so a skilled surgeon is available. For those who can recover without that kind of intervention, we do the surgery ourselves, but the patient has a much longer stay with us, and an increased recuperative time even after they leave the hospital. There's just not enough microvascular surgeons available to go around."

"And why do you think your hospital should be the place to get this education?"

"Well, we're centrally located on the west coast, but the better reason is that I have a commitment from a stellar microvascular surgeon to move to our area to head the program…if we're able to start it. In addition, we're not associated with a university. The people we'll be training are established surgeons with years of experience in their fields."

"Ms. Haverty, a robot silo is an enormous undertaking," said the technical consultant. "There aren't many installed and working in the country. I'm not sure you have the experience to pull this off."

Leah smiled. "Have we met yet?"

"Actually, no. I apologize. I'm Arthur Dorman. I was hired to clean up Xanda after the first contract was cancelled. Since I'm already on the payroll, they asked me to step in as technical consultant."

Leah's smile turned into a puzzled look as she slightly cocked her head. "The first contract was cancelled?"

"Let me explain," offered Senator Gray. "Art, I think you should know Ms. Haverty is the person who turned the Xanda job down."

"Oh. Why would you do that?"

"Hm? I'm sorry?" Leah had retreated into her own thoughts.

"Why would you turn down an opportunity like that?"

"Because I would have been working for a…" She stopped suddenly, realizing that in this venue, she had to tread lightly. "For Manning Consulting. I no longer wanted to work for them. And I wasn't offered a direct hire opportunity otherwise I probably would have accepted it. But why was the contract cancelled?"

"That's quite simple," said the Senator. "We didn't feel anyone else on Manning's payroll was up to par. You had an exceptional history in government work, and we wanted you. When we found you weren't available, we looked elsewhere. There was also the matter of your encryption program, but when we found it was part of the public record in your lawsuit…well, I'm sure there have been quite a few people looking at those records." The Senator waited for a reaction from Leah, but what she got was the look of someone about to bolt from the room. "Art, the part you're missing is that you have replaced Manning twice now. You replaced his company at Xanda, and you have replaced him now as technical consultant to the committee…all thanks to Ms. Haverty."

Leah snapped her head back around to face the Senator. "Thanks to me? What are you talking about?"

"Well, you are the one who delivered the court papers regarding Manning vs. Haverty to the committee room, aren't you?"

Creasing her brows, she answered, "No, I'm not. I don't know anything about it."

"Hm. Well, I'm not really surprised," said Senator Gray. "There are several people here who don't care for Mr. Manning."

"Well, all that being said, that still doesn't qualify you to install a robot silo," said Art.

"Mr. Dorman, I implemented the robot silo at the University of California's Children's Hospital."

"How is that possible? You were working for San Francisco Memorial when that happened."

"Actually, it was just prior to my work at San Francisco Memorial. I set up the Children's Hospital system initially with the robot silo at their request. They had deep pockets and could afford it, but my work was voluntary. I didn't get paid for it."

Art looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"Why don't you give Dr. Tom Prescott a call at the Children's Hospital? If you folks will excuse me for a few minutes, I need to get some air. Dinner isn't settling very well."

Trapper watched her walk across the dining room. Her face was flushed and her head was bowed in stark contrast to the woman who had been holding her head up proudly, at least in public, since they had arrived. He barely fought the need rising within him to follow her.

Angela, on the other hand, wasn't there to impress anyone.