Page 151 of Something You Need


Font Size:

My stomach flips. We just had sex, and I’m already getting hot all over again.

Penelope inclines her head with perfect professional politeness.

“Nice to meet you.”

Then she turns back to me. Back to business.

“I spoke to Dr. Bennett,” she says. “I apologized. It was comprehensive.”

“Good.”

“I’m holding a press conference tomorrow morning. I’ll clear everything up.”

“Really?” Antonio blurts, bright with relief. Then he catches himself, scowls, and folds his arms. “I mean—it’s about time.”

Penelope’s mouth twitches. Slightly.

“Yes,” she says crisply. “The board meets at eight. The press conference is at nine.”

She hesitates. If this were anyone else, I’d say she was nervous. But this is Penelope. She’s probably just performing an internal reboot.

“Are you going to be there?” she asks.

“Of course,” I say.

“We will all be there,” Antonio declares from the staircase, as grand as a prince addressing his subjects. “Now excuse me. I’m going to call Mom so she can prepare snacks.”

He pivots and ascends the stairs with impressive dignity.

I watch him go, helplessly in love.

Penelope exhales.

“So,” she says, her gaze lingering on the staircase. “That’s the boyfriend.”

I nod.

“That’s the boyfriend.”

CHAPTER 69 – CASPIAN

There’s no hesitation in my sister’s demeanor when she steps behind thepodium and surveys the audience. Her voice is crisp and steady as she begins.

“Good morning. I’m Dr. Penelope Stone, a neurosurgeon here at Wycliffe Memorial Hospital.”

The hospital lawyer standing behind her already looks displeased. I can only imagine what the board said about her decision.

“Last week, I made a serious error in judgment in the aftermath of a patient’s death.”

A morbid ripple moves through the room as reporters lean forward.

“I falsely accused a resident of disobeying my orders. That accusation was unethical, unprofessional, and in direct violation of the oath I took when I became a physician.”

The cameras go wild.

Her eyes find mine in the back of the room. I nod. She lifts her chin.

“Let me be very clear,” she continues. “The resident was not at fault. As the attending surgeon, all responsibility rests with me and me alone.”