Hot Bodies Boxed Set: The Complete Vital Signs Erotic Romance Trilogy (19 page)

“Hold that thought,” Harlan said. He whirled back to the refrigerator, pulled out a half-empty bottle of Tabasco, and set it in front of her. “How’s that?”

“Beautiful.” Joanna smiled to herself. More and more, she was coming to realize that Harlan was the man she’d like to wake up to each and every morning.

“So, have you heard anything from the hospital?” she asked, savoring a bite of perfectly cooked egg.

Harlan’s back stiffened slightly as he fried up his own batch of eggs. “No, I haven’t. But I think I heard your cell phone ringing earlier. You might want to check for messages.”

Joanna shrugged and went back to eating her breakfast. Retrieving voicemail messages was the furthest thing from her mind. Right now, all she wanted to do was bask in early-morning breakfast bliss with her new lover. Still, she was worried about the situation in Covington’s surgery department. Never in her career had she worked anyplace that had been shut down by the state, and she was increasingly curious as to what was behind the sudden closing.

“I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait,” she chuckled. “After all, our entire department’s been shut down.”

Harlan set down his own breakfast plate across from her with a clatter, and sat down across from her. “About that, Joanna. There’s probably something you should know.”

Joanna inhaled the impossibly fresh orange juice in one gulp. She figured Harlan must have gone to the store for it while she was still asleep—either that, or he had an orange tree stashed somewhere.

“What?”

“
I’m
the reason the state shut Surgery down, Joanna.”

Joanna set down her fork, and peered at Harlan, perplexed. “But why? Surely not because of your hand injury—“

Harlan held up his right hand. Joanna noticed that he’d removed the bandage since last night. The perfect butterfly stitches helping heal his torn palm were still there, but the cut was nearly closed over and the stitches could come out soon. “Joanna, just before I drove you here yesterday, Middleton called me to his office to tell me that I was under investigation by the state medical board. The surgery department will be shut down at least until my interim successor comes in next week.”

Joanna blinked. “Interim
successor?
I thought they were just getting someone to fill in for you until your hand healed.”

“Well, that was the original plan, until I got placed under investigation. Now I’ve been formally fired.”

“Fired?”
Joanna thought she might choke. “You mean, you’ve known this whole time, since before you brought me here yesterday, that you’d been fired?”

Harlan sighed. “I’m afraid so. That makes me unemployed, Joanna. I hope that doesn’t make you fall out of love with me or anything.” He gave her a look that was both sad and sarcastic.

“But why did they fire you?“

“Well, for showing such an interest in you, partially. When Middleton confronted me the
second
time on whether or not I was involved with you—just before you found me in the parking garage—I told him the truth.”

Joanna got up from the table, put her hands to her temples. “Why would you tell me all those other—forgive me—
horrible
things about yourself all afternoon yesterday, and then leave out the one, tiny detail that you’d been fired as surgery chief just for—“ Joanna’s breath caught. “Just for wanting to be with
me
?”

“Well, in truth, Joanna, my involvement with you wasn’t the only reason I was fired. The main reason was the state investigation, which if my calculations are correct, probably has something to do with the fact my medical license was suspended in Massachusetts while I was in alcohol recovery.”

“Oh, no,” Joanna said. “That’s awful.”

“Joanna, just chill out for a minute. This thing might not stick. When the truth comes back to Middleton about my Massachusetts license, I’m sure I’ll be reinstated.”

“When Middleton fires somebody, he means it, Harlan. After working at Covington as long as I have, I know that better than anyone.”

Harlan scoffed. “I don’t know why Middleton felt the need to jump the gun. The state investigators would have found, if Middleton had just given them the time, that I surrendered my Massachusetts license voluntarily. It was reinstated a year later without prejudice once I’d proven I was clean and sober. The fact is, I’ve had no problems with my surgery practice since then, except of course for the little cutting-my-hand problem at Covington—which, I might add, only happened because I was so damn attracted to you in the OR I could hardly see straight. Which really says something for how much Middleton values you and your nursing skills, considering Middleton gave up the hospital’s entire cut of my patent royalties when he fired me.”

“Wait a minute,” Joanna said. The mention of Harlan’s patent royalties piqued her interest. Suddenly her ex-husband Bob’s mysterious accusations in her parking lot a few days ago made more sense. Bob had always had a talent for sniffing out easy money—and then spending it just as fast. He must have found some way to get at those patent royalties, and Joanna was willing to bet he’d offered somebody a cut of the profits if they helped him. “You say that the hospital lost its cut of its patent royalties when they fired you? Are you sure?”

Harlan nodded. “It’s in my contract. Unless there’s some legal loophole I missed out on, Joe Middleton threw away millions of dollars when he fired me.”

Joanna immediately fished her cell phone out of her purse. Sure enough, her caller ID showed a number of calls—two from Bob, two from Bob’s sleazy attorney, and to Joanna’s shock, one from her own divorce attorney. “Do you have a copy of your contract?” she asked.

“Yeah, upstairs in my study.” Harlan looked bewildered. “Why?”

“Go get it,” Joanna ordered. “Then come with me. We need to pay a visit to my lawyer.”

Joanna and Harlan sat in the well-upholstered office of Peter Landall—Joanna’s divorce lawyer. In addition to handling her divorce from Bob, Peter and his firm had been Joanna’s family lawyer for three generations—handling her grandparents’ and parents’ real estate transactions, their wills, even a traffic ticket or two. There was no one she trusted better to help her and Harlan understand the strange goings-on with Covington Community Hospital’s administration—not to mention what her ex-husband Bob might have to do with it.

Peter Landall—who between his white seersucker suit, gold pocket watch, and slow drawl was the epitome of the Southern country lawyer stereotype—finished poring over a pile of files, polished his wire-rimmed spectacles, and spoke. “Joanna, I knew it was only a matter of time before you showed up in my office. That ex-husband of yours is up to no good.”

“I know that,” she replied. “That’s why I divorced him.”

Peter opened a desk drawer and took out a binder, which he opened. “Well, I think this goes a bit beyond his usual shenanigans,” he said. “By any chance has Bob’s sleazy lawyer Rod Slokowski been calling you lately?”

“Yes,” Joanna said. “He’s left me at least a dozen threatening messages over the past few days. I’ve ignored them all.”

Peter sighed. “Well, Joanna, you aren’t going to be able to ignore him anymore. You see, Mr. Slokowski had filed suit against you on Bob’s behalf. Here’s the brief.”

He passed it across the desk for her to read, but Joanna couldn’t make heads or tails of the legalese. “What does this mean?” she asked.

Peter templed his fingers underneath his chin and sighed. “Bob has got it into his head that you cheated him out of millions of dollars in your divorce settlement just because you’ve taken up with Dr. Wilkinson here. Of course, you weren’t involved with Dr. Wilkinson until well after you and Bob divorced, so that’s pretty groundless as far as I’m concerned. But it seems that Bob’s managed to convince some pretty high-up people at the hospital to testify that the two of you had an adulterous affair while you and Bob were still married.”

“But we weren’t!” Joanna cried. “I didn’t even meet Harlan until three weeks after my divorce was final!”

“I know, Joanna.” Peter sighed again and shook his head. “But based on these two testifying witnesses, the divorce court has agreed to re-examine the settlement order. I’m not sure how Bob and his lawyer have managed to get these witnesses to out-and-out lie for them, but my guess is it’s got something to do with money. Lots of it. Like a cut of your patent royalties, Harlan.”

Harlan looked puzzled. “But didn’t Joe Middleton throw away the hospital’s cut when he fired me?”

Peter shook his head. “Not in this case,” he said. “There’s a loophole buried in the fine print he’s taking advantage of. Or, at least he
thinks
he’s taking advantage of, anyway. The hearing’s been scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’ve been through the documents in question and I think I can find a way to nip this in the bud. But I’ll need the both of you to work with me in the office this afternoon to plan our strategy. Think you both can do that?”

Joanna and Harlan exchanged glances, and nodded.

****

Before the hearing the next morning, Peter Landall waited for Harlan and Joanna at the top of the courthouse steps. He refreshed their memories of what they’d discussed in his office the day before, and coached them on what kind of testimony he’d be expected to give, what questions the opposition might ask. “I think if all goes our way, this unpleasantness will be behind us shortly,” Peter drawled, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet while he thumbed his suspenders.

But Joanna didn’t share Peter’s optimism. After all, she knew the low depths her ex-husband was capable of sinking too well. And the fact that he longtime hospital superiors and colleagues were in cahoots with him made her ill.

Joanna took a long, deep breath in a vain effort to regain her composure. Her head felt light and her palms were sweating gallons. She swallowed hard despite the huge lump forming in her throat, and finally ascended the courthouse steps, clutching Harlan’s hand.

****

“ALL RISE!” shouted the bailiff, a heavyset, middle-aged woman with a voice as deep and rich as most men’s. “Court is now in session! The Honorable Judge David J. Diviston presiding.” Judge Diviston, the very same white-haired man who had publicly proclaimed three months earlier that Robert and Joanna Watson were divorced, strode into the courtroom, his black silken robes flowing. Following Peter’s gentle gesture, Joanna took her place in the defendant’s box, while Bob and the ever-sleazy Rod Slokowski (in one of his trademark silver-sharkskin suits) took their position in the petitioner’s box. Just as Joanna had predicted, Joseph Middleton sat behind them on one of the witnesses’ benches. And to Joanna’s shock, Shirley Daniels sat right beside him, looking smug.

Judge Diviston settled into his heavy mahogany chair on the judge’s dais, shuffled some papers from a file, and looked up. He glanced from Bob to Joanna and then back to Bob again. “Well. Mr. and Mrs. Watson. You’re back.”

Rod Slokowski stepped forward, grease practically oozing from every pore on his slick, bloated face. “Your Honor, my client wishes to obtain a new divorce settlement on the grounds that Mrs. Joanna Watson not only hid financial assets from the court, but also committed adultery.”

Judge Diviston adjusted his bifocals and sighed. “Yes, I read the brief, Counselor. Mrs. Watson’s counsel has submitted a written denial of both allegations, so you’ll need to provide a corroborating witness.”

“We have two corroborating witnesses, Your Honor. Divorce petitioner respectfully calls Joseph Middleton to the stand.”

The portly old man Joanna had worked under for so long lumbered up to the witness box. Joanna ground her teeth at the betrayal.

Rod Slokowski rubbed his hands together like a slumlord and approached the witness box. “Mr. Middleton, would you care to describe a conversation you had with Dr. Harlan Wilkinson,
M.D.
on Tuesday of this week?”

“Yes,” the old man replied, with much effort. “I called Dr. Wilkinson into my office to respond to some reports I’d had of him improperly cavorting with a nurse.” There was a tremor in his voice, and he couldn’t look Joanna in the eye no matter how hard she stared him down. Did Middleton really
want
to be testifying against her? He certainly didn’t look like he was too happy about it. Joanna wondered if the old man might have been coerced.

“And what nurse was Dr. Wilkinson allegedly cavorting with, Mr. Middleton?”

“Ahhhhm, Joanna Watson.”

“The woman standing just over there?” Slokowski gestured towards Joanna. Middleton nodded, never once meeting Joanna’s eyes. “And what did Dr. Wilkinson say about these allegations when you confronted him?”

Middleton coughed. “Well, ahhh, the first time I spoke to him about it, he denied everything. But the second time, he ahhhm, he admitted it. That’s all.”

“And you fired Dr. Wilkinson after he made that admission, did you not?”

Middleton’s lips pursed and his brow furrowed. He gave a slight nod, but did not answer verbally.

Slokowski seemed a bit put off, as if Middleton hadn’t given him the exact answer he should have. But after a split second, the sleazy lawyer regained his slick courtroom composure. “Let the record show the witness nodded in the affirmative. And is it also correct, Mr. Middleton, that your subordinate Shirley Daniels informed you that Mrs. Watson and Dr. Wilkinson had been engaged in an affair for several months—perhaps years—dating back to a time before Dr. Wilkinson moved to Statesville? An accusation corroborated by my client?”

Peter Landall stood. “Objection, Your Honor. This is hearsay.”

The judge sighed again. “Sustained. Mr. Slokowski, do you have any other evidence to present besides hearsay? And when I say evidence, I mean photographs, videos, audio recordings, et cetera, that would show Ms. Watson committed adultery? If you don’t, I’m not even going to entertain the hidden-asset allegation.”

Slokowski cringed. “No, Your Honor. But I could possibly have more evidence tomorrow, if you’ll grant a recess—“

“Denied,” the judge barked, and banged his gavel. “Will there be any rebuttal from Ms. Watson’s side?” the judge asked. “Not that you need to given how flimsy the case is.”

“Yes, Your Honor, there will,” Peter Landall drawled, and bowed to the judge as gracefully as Robert E. Lee at Appomattox. “As you’ve already read in our own petition, Your Honor, Ms. Watson formally denies the allegation of adultery and wishes the divorce settlement to stand under the previously agreed-upon terms.”

“Duly noted, Counselor,” the judge muttered, fiddling with his pen. He wore the look of someone who would rather be fishing or hunting—anything other than presiding over this petty hearing. “Do you have a witness or witnesses present to rebut the petitioner’s, ahhh, allegation?”

“We do, Your Honor. We respectfully call Dr. Harlan Wilkinson, MD, to the stand.”

Rod Slokowski, Bob, and Middleton collectively did a double-take. Shirley Daniels went several shades of green. Clearly, Peter Landall had not notified opposing counsel of the witness list. Harlan strutted up to the stand and sat down. Peter Landall approached the witness box, keeping his manicured hands clasped behind his back. “Sir, please state your name,” he drawled.

“Harlan Wilkinson, MD.”

“You are a physician, are you not?”

“Yes,” Harlan barked. “People with ‘MD’ after their names generally are, you know.” Joanna recognized that voice. It was the gruff, rude, off-the-cuff voice he’d first used with her in the Covington Community Hospital elevator weeks ago. It was the voice that had made her simultaneously detest and desire him. His
I’m-a-world-famous-surgeon-so-don’t-you-fuck-with-me
voice.

Mr. Personality was back.

Unruffled, Peter never once let go of his gracious Old South manners. He paced back in forth in front of the witness box as if gliding on air. “Of course, Dr. Wilkinson. You are quite well-known in your field, are you not?”

“Oh sure. In surgery circles, I’m world-famous. And rich, too.”

Peter stopped pacing. “Just how rich are you, Dr. Wilkinson?”

Rod Slokowski stood up. “Your Honor, I object.”

Judge Diviston set down his pen and sighed for the umpteenth time. “Overruled, Counselor. After all, you brought this case to court in an attempt to show your client had the right to Dr. Wilkinson’s money. The witness may answer the question.”

Harlan smiled. His azure eyes pierced Joanna’s jade ones as he replied, “I am worth approximately eighty-seven million dollars, give or take by my last tax return.”

A collective gasp rose from the courtroom. Joanna froze. She’d known Harlan was wealthy—but not quite
that
wealthy. She felt all the blood drain from her face and settle pleasantly into the space between her legs.

Peter didn’t even blink. Clearly, he’d been prepared for Harlan’s answer. “Eighty—
seven
million dollars, you say? Very nice, Dr. Wilkinson. Now we all know that even the most successful of surgeons don’t generally earn that kind of money just by taking out appendixes. Would you care to tell the court what the major source of your income is?”

“Certainly. Patent royalties. I invented numerous medical devices and tools which are now successfully sold worldwide by companies like Johnson & Johnson, Tyco, Medtronic and others, chiefly to Third World countries. I still own a share of all the patents, and get a royalty payment for each and every one of my devices that are sold. And millions upon millions of my devices have been sold. I think you can do the math.”

Peter Landall started to pace again, never once unclasping his hands from behind his back. “You said you only own a
share
of your patents. Who owns the other share, or shares?”

“Well, Hofts University, my former employer, used to own a share, but they forfeited it when they fired me for my alcoholism. A problem I overcame with proper treatment, I might add.” Harlan glanced up at the judge, who nodded his approval. “Another share goes to a charitable foundation based in Boston. When I signed my Chief of Surgery contract with Covington, the hospital assumed the share that Hofts gave up when they fired me.”

Peter Landall rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Thank you for that explanation, Dr. Wilkinson. Now, when Mr. Middleton terminated your employment at Covington Community Hospital for allegedly cavorting with Ms. Watson against hospital regulations, you assumed that, per the terms of your contract, Covington would forfeit its share in those patent royalties upon your firing, is that correct?”

“That was my assumption, yes.”

“I see.” Peter walked to the counselor’s table and pulled a document from his briefcase. “I have a copy of your contract here. Dr. Wilkinson, next time you sign a contract such as this one—“—he indicated the document—“I suggest you read the fine print. Would you care to read the clause I have highlighted?” Peter handed Harlan the document. Harlan took it, squinted at the highlighted passage, and read it aloud.

“The terms of the aforedescribed Patent Royalties Share shall be deemed Forfeit In Whole and Full to the Employer, Covington Community Hospital, in the event that the Employed, Harlan Wilkinson, MD, shall ever have his medical Licensure Revoked and/or be placed under investigation by the State Medical Board of North Carolina while under the Employer’s Employ.”