Page 154 of The Backup Plan

Emery

“Two weeks?” Trish screeches. “Has it really been that long that you only have two weeks before your proposal is due, and they love it so much they make you sign a long-term contract to be their doctor forever and ever?”

“Funny. In my head, two weeks feels like seconds when I’m nowhere near ready,” I say and scroll through the proposal on my laptop screen like I do every day, sometimes several times a day, to try and find weak spots or search for something that’s most likely not missing.

“You say that, but I’ve never known you not to be prepared for anything.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” I mutter.

“Why the negativity?” she asks. “I mean, besides the fact that your boyfriend’s shoulder is falling apart, you’re lying by omission to your bosses, oh, and you’re breaking ethical standards by sleeping with a patient who is also a player? I mean, what else could there be?”

“This is the part where I want to hang up on you,” I say but laugh. “Of course, only because you’re absolutely right, but I refuse to admit that.”

“But seriously, why are you so stressed over it? You’ve never half-assed anything in your life, so why would you be worried about this?”

“Because this job has come to mean everything to me,” I whisper, realizing how true the statement is. The past couple months have been incredible. The technology, the support, the challenge, the capital behind it. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. “And because you’re right in that I’m doing several things that would sabotage it if they were found out.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say sabotage it, but . . .”

“Funny.”

“I have to get going, but I want to say two things before I do.”

“Uh-oh,” I murmur.

“When you’re ready to practice your presentation that goes with your proposal, I’m your girl. We’ll Zoom. I’ll critique. I’ll encourage.”

“Thank you.” I smile.

“And the second thing is . . . if your relationship with Lucas has legs and goes somewhere, you’ll have to address it with management at some point.”

I grunt.

And in the back of my head, I think, but if Lucas is no longer on the team, then that would be a moot point, wouldn’t it?

“Thanks for offering point number one. I’ll take you up on it. As for point number two? I’m just trying to get through point one first then I’ll address it,” I say.

“Noted.” I can see her nodding. “I’ve gotta run but remember I love you. I’m rooting for you. And I already know both points will turn out fabulously.”

“Thanks.”

“Always.”

Not thirty seconds after she hangs up the phone, there’s a knock on my door.

“Dr. Porter?”

“Tyler. Hi. What can I do for you?”

“Grant, Coach, and Peter wanted to know if they could have a minute of your time.”

Shit. This is it. They know about the scans. Another physician saw them, reviewed them, and brought it to their attention. They know I’m lying by omission, as Trish put it. That I’m not telling the whole truth.

“Not a problem,” I say with a little more forced cheer than necessary as I shut my laptop and follow him down the hall with my heart pounding every step of the way.

The small conference room is quiet when I walk in. Coach and Peter are seated while Grant stands behind them looking at something on Coach’s laptop.

They all look up but their smiles are reflexive manners more than anything. Lovely. Nothing like making me feel more on edge.