Caro Carson - The Doctor's Former Fiancee

He was standing, he realized, as was she. They were glaring into each other’s eyes, battling for supremacy. Again. Always.

“You make that call, Lana. Should I help three million kids who have episodes of pain, or should I help eighty million adults, the parents and grandparents of those children, who are facing death? You choose, because I don’t have enough money to do both.”

She stayed silent, but she didn’t back down, not in her body language, and not in her glare. Why had he thought this time would be different?

Braden berated himself for letting her bait him into this debate. None of it mattered. Their entire conversation wasn’t going to change the fact that PLI was withdrawing further funding. He wasn’t going to throw more money at an unlikely solution to what amounted to a rare problem in the universe of medical crises.

And Lana was not going to understand him now any more than she’d understood him then. He’d had six years to stop wanting her to understand him. Wanting her to respect his career. Wanting her to trust him, to support him.

Wanting her.

She was so damned vibrant, so passionate, so beautiful. The temptation to end this match with a crushing kiss was overwhelming. That physical attraction had become a crutch for them, toward the end. They couldn’t agree on their careers and their future, so they’d fall into bed and have silent, soul-searing sex.

In Lana’s opinion, they’d had sex one time too many. The last time had had consequences neither of them had been ready for.

Still, he found himself craving the smoothness of her skin, the curves of her body, the surrender of herself. Six years hadn’t been long enough apart. He needed another six to kill his desire for Lana Donnoli—and he wasn’t going to spend it waiting for absolution and understanding in this conference room.

“I regret to inform you that Plaine Laboratories International has decided to end all trials of NDA zero two one zero six one. West Central’s contract will expire in accordance with our prior arrangements, and no renewals will be pursued. Goodbye, Dr. Donnoli.”

* * *

Braden’s decision was final. Lana knew it; she watched him close his laptop case with a single click of a lock.

He’s leaving, and I failed.

The expression on his face was no longer fierce, no longer focused on her. He looked withdrawn. Remote. He was already gone, although he was still in the room with her. Then he picked up his briefcase and was gone for real. The door closed after him with a firm, controlled click.

I failed him.

Him? Not only the hospital, but him?

Somehow, he’d been disappointed in her, yet Braden had no right to expect anything from her. What had he wanted?

Professionally, her failure was simple to define. She’d failed to keep this hospital’s study going. Failed in her new responsibility to get financing for the research branch of West Central Texas Hospital.

Is it west or is it central? You can’t have both.

She couldn’t have the migraine trials, but could she have something else instead? They had the facilities. They had the staff, the patient flow—there must be other studies that PLI needed a site like West Central for. There were other funds she could secure for her department.

She stopped debating with herself and started walking after Braden. Quickly. She needed to talk to him today, before he walked out of the hospital completely, like he’d once walked out of her life.

Breathless from catching up to his much longer strides, she followed him to the bank of elevators. The doors started to slide open before she could reach him.

“Braden, don’t go!”

The back of his head jerked up, just a bit. He turned her way and stood still, not moving away from the elevator, but not stepping into the car, either. She was suddenly so afraid he might leave without her, she jogged the last few steps to him and put her hand on his sleeve.

“Don’t go yet. Please.”

He placed his warm hand over hers. There was a clear question in his eyes, a concerned tilt of his head, a softening of the hard mask of his face. “Why not, Lana?”

“I want a second chance. I want to talk to you about PLI.”

He removed his hand to stab the button to recall the elevator. “The decision is made. I can’t explain it any better. If you don’t understand, that’s your problem.”

“No—no, that’s just it. I do understand. PLI only has a limited amount of research dollars to go around. But I want a second chance.”

The elevator doors opened and Braden walked into the waiting car, away from her. She followed, grateful that the car was empty.

“Listen, Braden, please. I just got into town. Dr. Montgomery walked out, literally, minutes after I arrived this morning. I haven’t had a chance to get my bearings or take stock of what we have here, but I know West Central has a lot to offer in the way of research facilities and staff, far more than it did when we were residents here.”

She made her best case while she had him trapped in the elevator. “Give me the rest of today to review my department. PLI and West Central can use each other, I’m sure of it. You must have dozens of studies under way, and there is always a need for another enrollment site.”

He didn’t agree or disagree. He only watched her as she pleaded.

She touched his sleeve again. “Will you give me a day? If I find out what I still have to offer you, would you be willing to consider me again?”

He let several seconds of silence tick by before he spoke. “Will I consider what you have to offer? That’s one hell of a question, coming from my former fiancée.”

Whatever answer she’d expected, it hadn’t been that. Not that personal. They’d kept everything strictly professional to this point. It felt as though he’d violated some invisible boundary by bringing up their intimate past so bluntly.

The elevator stopped to let an elderly couple on. The man was in a wheelchair; the woman was pushing him with the ease of long experience. He made a gesture to his right, and she picked up the paperwork that was tucked under his right side and placed it in his hand. Effortless communication.

Had anything been as easy between her and Braden?

Yes—making love.

And they’d conceived a baby. Too easily. Without trying. Without wanting to.

She’d miscarried that pregnancy the same way.

The memory threatened to completely breach any wall she’d maintained to this point. Before it could overwhelm her, she spoke quickly and quietly to Braden.

“You know perfectly well that West Central has excellent resources to conduct research. You need facilities and patient bases and sites. Just give me a day to get my bearings, and we can meet again to find out how we can help one another’s companies.”

The elevator reached the lobby level. Braden maintained his silence.

She didn’t. “You know I need to replace the funds you just withdrew. I’ll be offering West Central to other biotechs and pharmas.”

She had seconds to convince him as he courteously waited for the wheelchair couple to exit. “If you don’t want what I have to offer, someone else will. I’m giving you the right of first refusal.”

Braden cut his gaze to her. She stayed where she was, silently demanding an answer.

He walked out of the elevator instead.

“Braden,” she called after him. Damn it all, she was losing him. Losing PLI’s funding.

Braden turned around and looked her up and down, just once, as she stayed in the elevator.

“I’m returning to New York. Now. The PLI representative for the state of Texas is Cheryl Gassett. I’m sure your assistant knows her and has her contact information. If you find that you can make PLI an offer, call Cheryl.”