~Jace~
“You look like shit,” Levi says after opening the door.
“I haven’t slept,” I admit, following him through his condo to the kitchen. “Did I wake you up?”
“I just got home myself,” he replies. “Long night at work. Want some coffee?”
“Yes, please.” I sit at his table, feeling hollow as I watch him move about the kitchen.
“How’s the leg?”
“Fine,” he says with a shrug, then watches me closely. “What’s wrong?” he asks as he hands me my cup and sits across from me, watching me with tired eyes.
“Joy’s pregnant,” I begin and then laugh humorlessly. “Which I still haven’t wrapped my head around.”
“Congratulations.”
I nod and take a sip of coffee. “We had a pretty big fight last night. Or, she did. I stood there and took it on the sidewalk because she wanted to yell at me.”
“What for?”
“Not being around this past month. I told Joy I’d make her a priority, and work has been, well, insane.”
“I see.”
“To say she’s angry is a huge understatement. In all fairness, I did show up to dinner about three hours late last night.”
“Jace,” he says in surprise, and I wince.
“I know. It wasn’t cool. I just got caught up. I always get caught up, and it feels like a shit excuse, but it’s the truth. Maybe I should give up the chief position.”
Levi exhales loudly but doesn’t say anything.
“Go ahead. Just say it.”
“You’ll resent her,” he replies. “If you give up the position you busted your ass off for, you’ll resent her. Maybe not today, but one day, you will. And that’s not fair to either of you.”
“I agree, but I don’t see how to do this otherwise.” I rap my fingers on the table in frustration. “Sixteen to twenty-hour days aren’t conducive to a healthy relationship.”
“Jesus, why are you working that many hours?”
“Because both positions are full-time,” I reply with a sigh. “Now I understand why the hospital has gone through three chiefs of surgery over the past five years.”
“Those are sweat-shop hours,” Levi says, making me chuckle. “You can’t have any life with that schedule.”
“I know, and I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it, but Joy was also unreasonable. I’ve never been so angry with her in my life.” I rub the back of my neck. “She basically said that I’ll be a shit father and husband and she’s reconsidering marrying me.”
“Isn’t love fun?” Levi asks, laughing when I glare at him.
“Speaking of love, you’ve been pretty tight-lipped about the pop star.”
“And it’s staying that way.”
“It’s just us here,” I remind him. “Why do you look angry every time she’s mentioned?”
He stares at me, his grey eyes hot, and I don’t think he’s going to answer me at all.
“She ghosted me,” he finally admits and then swears under his breath. “I feel fucking stupid.”
“So you slept together, and then you never heard from her again?”
“Exactly.”
I frown, the idea of anyone hurting my brother not sitting well with me.
“Was the sex that bad?”
“Fuck you.”
I smirk. “Okay, so it was awesome. Good for you.”
He just flips me off, and I hold my hands up in surrender. “Hey, I don’t know what to say. Maybe it was just a one-night stand.”
“Maybe.” He sighs and scratches his head in irritation. “Do I sound like a fucking moron when I say that I felt like we had a connection?”
“You’re not a moron. Maybe it scared her.”
“Scared me,” he says. “But damn if I could get enough of her. We didn’t leave that hotel room for twenty-four hours.”
“Damn. I’m impressed.”
“So was she,” he says with a grin, but the smile doesn’t last long. “And then I tried to call her that night, and she didn’t answer. She hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts, although I stopped trying after the first week. I’m no stalker.”
“That’s good to hear. It sounds to me like it scared her, man. The sex was too good.”
“That doesn’t help me sleep at night, smartass.”
“Maybe reach out to her in a month or so. Give her some space.” I shrug helplessly. “What the hell do I know? My fiancée pretty much told me to eat shit and die last night.”
“Maybe it was the hormones talking,” he suggests.
“Her feelings are hurt, and that kills me,” I reply. “I want to go to her house right now and make her hear me out.”
“So, do it,” he says.
“This is Joy we’re talking about. I can’t make her do anything. I need to get some stuff in order and then go to her with a plan.”
“This could be interesting,” Levi says. “What kind of a plan?”
“I’m too type A to not have a plan. And the truth is, I miss her, too. I don’t want to go to her and have her reject me twice, I couldn’t survive it again.”
“What’s the plan?” he asks again.
“I haven’t figured that out yet. You tell me the plan.”
“Dude, you’re talking to a guy who had the best sex of his life with arguably the most famous woman in the world and can’t get her to call him back. I don’t think I’m the right person to ask about a plan.”
I laugh and then shrug. “Well, then we’re screwed.”
“Wyatt seems to have it figured out. He got the girl. Let’s call him.”
“Is nine in the morning too early to start day-drinking? We could call him over and get drunk.”
“Don’t turn into that guy,” Levi says. “No one wants to marry the day drinker. That’s only funny in college.”
“I didn’t do it then, either,” I remind us. “Joy would have told me I was a loser and never spoken to me again.”
“She would have been right,” he says. “She always was a smart girl.”
“And tolerant. I admit that over the past couple of years I’ve only called her when I needed something, and I hate that I slipped back into that old habit over the past month, especially after promising her that I wouldn’t do that.”
“Cut yourself a little slack,” he says. “You were trying to get your bearings after being suspended and starting a new position. That would take anyone some time.”
“Yeah, but it would have only taken thirty seconds to return a text or a phone call.” I blow out a breath. “I can do better than that.”
I have to do better than that because I’m going to be a dad.
Dad.
“Holy shit, I’m going to be a dad. I don’t know anything about kids. What if I screw it up?”
Levi laughs. “You won’t. You’re going to be a wonderful father. Right after you start doing better.”
“Agreed.”
“You really haven’t been much help.”
He just laughs and flips me off again. “You drank my coffee and bitched about your troubles. What else did you want?”
“Just that, I suppose. Thanks, brother.”
“Anytime.”
“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice,” I say later in the afternoon, sitting before the board of directors of Seattle General.
“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.