Unchained Memories (26 page)

It took a while for their heartbeats to normalize and Charlotte held Clay close, his weight on top of her but not smothering. She could lie like this forever, feeling his heat, his damp skin, his heavy breathing in her ear.

The words were so close, jumping on her tongue to escape.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
But she couldn’t speak those words out loud. Not yet. Other words needed to be said. Words that could end it all.

She buried her confession as deeply as she could. Now was not the time. Later. After they ate and made love and ate and made love. Tonight. Before she left. Maybe.

But the words never came.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Clay looked up from his chart and almost ran into Matt as Matt exited his office. “Hey, stranger. Haven’t seen much of you lately.”

His friend’s usual grin was conspicuously missing.

“Hey, yourself.” Matt stuck his pen in his pocket. “You’re the one who’s been AWOL. Where’ve you been?”

“Busy. Some personal stuff.”

Matt gave him a skeptical look.

“What? I can’t have a personal life?”

“Since when has your personal life pulled you away from here? You’ve never taken off two Sundays in a row in the ten years you’ve been here. Could Charlotte Taylor have anything to do with it?” It sounded almost accusatory.

Clay wasn’t about to admit he’d spent two recent Sundays in the arms of a goddess. A goddess who made him want to laze the day away in and out of bed. Who, for the first time he could remember, made him want to forget about work. But Matt had issues with Charlotte, and he didn’t want to go there. “I have seen her some since she moved back to the area.”

“Even though she sued us?” he asked through gritted teeth.

She hadn’t sued us, she’d sued Matt. Clay motioned for Matt to re-enter his office, then Clay followed, closing the door. This conversation had the potential of escalating into an argument if Clay didn’t take control. “It wasn’t
her
suing you,” he rationalized. “It was her client. The case is over and the suit against you was dismissed.”

Although what he said was true, Clay’s neck burned at the all-too-distasteful reminder of Charlotte’s involvement in that case.

“How could you date someone who makes a living suing this hospital? And doctors in general? Are you that hard up for a piece of ass?”

Anger ricocheted through him and Clay fisted his hand. “How dare you insinuate that about me. About her. I happen to like her. A lot.” He more than liked her. He just might be in love, but Matt wasn’t going to be the first one to hear it. Clay threw his chart on Matt’s desk, and the clang echoed through the small office.

Unfortunately, Matt didn’t back off. “I guess you don’t know she’s representing the Lincoln family against you, Hauser, and the hospital.”

Clay froze in his spot, and a chill ran from his brain to his toes. John Lincoln was the young, African-American man who had been brought into the ER one morning by the police. The one who died on the operating table. He turned and held up his hand in warning. “Don’t say another word. If you do, I won’t be responsible for my actions.” Rage blinded his vision and fury clogged his throat. It couldn’t be true. Charlotte had made a promise. Yet, something in Matt’s hardened face sent out warning signals. In measured words, he finally said, “That’s impossible. Charlotte’s not taking any more cases against this hospital. And she would never take a case against me.”

“If that’s what she told you, she lied. I just came from Collins’ office.”

A kick to his groin wouldn’t have debilitated Clay more and he grasped the side of Matt’s desk for balance.

“Are you okay, buddy?” Matt’s tone softened as he stood before him holding onto his shoulders.

Clay pushed Matt’s hands away and headed for the door. He needed to get away from Matt and his accusations, to find some fresh air, to get a grip on his emotions.

To find out the truth.

On autopilot, Clay stormed down the hall and out the door. He started running, clueless as to what he was doing or where he was going. He only knew he needed to move, to burn off the anger Matt had ignited in him. He could barely see straight but his legs moved under him, feet pounding the pavement as he headed toward the center of town.

Before he knew it, he burst through the doors of Cooper, Smith & Bartlett, out of breath and a little too aggressive.

He fought to calm down, pulling on his willpower to act and sound rationale, at least to the receptionist. “Is Charlotte Taylor available? I have to see her about a case.”

“Do you have an appointment?” The woman took in his hospital scrubs and disheveled appearance.

“No. But if you tell her Dr. Montgomery is here, I’m sure she’ll see me.”

Would she? Or would she hide in her office pretending to be occupied so as not to have this confrontation right here, right now?

He barely heard the woman speak to Charlotte’s secretary for the blood rushing through his head affected his ears.

Clay paced the lobby as he waited, three steps one way, three back, until her voice penetrated the roar in his brain.

He turned and there she stood before him, her face drawn and pale.

“Is it true?” He barely contained the anger that had overtaken his body fifteen minutes earlier.

She rubbed her forehead and said quietly, “Come into my office.” He followed her down the hall. “Shut the door and sit down,” she suggested, as if they were going to have a nice, quiet meeting.

“I can’t sit. Just answer the question.”

“Is what true?”

Clay could feel his blood pressure rise as his head throbbed. “Dammit, Charley. Stop playing games. Are you suing me and the hospital on behalf of the Lincoln family?”

“Yes. No!” Confusion furrowed her brow. “I am involved in a case against the hospital. Not against you. It’s against Dr. Hauser.” Regret shadowed her eyes as she continued her lame explanation. “I requested that I not get assigned to cases against Nassau General, but Brad is in charge of the department and he’s my boss. It’s his case. I’m just the associate helping him.” She was trying valiantly to seem reasonable, almost matter-of-fact.

“Who else did you name in the complaint?” Clay was beyond rationalization. He wanted—needed—answers. Not a discussion about law firm administration.

“That’s it. Dr. Hauser and the hospital. I drafted the complaint and gave it to Brad.” She gave an ineffectual shrug, but her eyes looked guilty as hell. “How do you even know about it? The complaint hasn’t been filed yet.”

“Yes, it was and we’ve been served. I’m a defendant. How do you explain that?”

Charlotte’s face paled and she turned away from him to face the window. Was she trying to gain some time to come up with a logical and reasonable response to his angry question? Clay fought to keep from shaking the information out of her, but stayed as far away as possible. She would speak when she was ready, obviously searching for the words that would bring Clay back to earth. But it wasn’t going to happen.

She finally turned. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. Brad must have revised it after I gave it to him without telling me. She kept her eyes on her desk, refusing to look at him. “I was going to call you to see if we could get together tonight so I could tell you myself. About the suit against the hospital.” She raised her eyes and they were filled with pain. “I didn’t name you. You have to believe me. I could never do that.”

“Whether I do or don’t doesn’t matter.” Clay spoke through clenched teeth as his jaw tightened. “What’s the date on the complaint?”

Charley looked at him quizzically. “What difference does that make?”

“Tell me.”

She turned to her computer and typed in something. “August 3rd.”

“And you signed it?”

“I signed the original draft. Against Hauser and the hospital. Brad must have revised the complaint and kept my signature on it.” Her voice was barely audible.

The sucker punch came fast and furious and Clay held onto the back of the chair as he felt the physical effects of Charley’s statement. Today was Friday, the tenth. She had already been involved in the case last Sunday, when they shared the entire day together barely moving from his bed. The hammer pounding in his head threatened to down him.

Clay clenched his jaw and paced the small office, his nerves stretched so tight, he thought they’d snap. “You’ve been waiting ten years for this moment. While you may have had another reason to come back to Princeton when your brother-in-law died, you must be looking at this as kismet. Dr. Hauser is the doctor who operated on your mother when she died. This is your chance to get back at us for that. Unfortunately, you have to sue me as well in order to get to Hauser, but I guess that’s a casualty you’re willing to incur.”

Charlotte’s ashen face highlighted the smudges under her eyes. She must have lost a little sleep over her decision, but it sure didn’t stop her from destroying their relationship.

She seemed to be at loss for words, but he wasn’t done. “You sat at the Collins’ dinner table and told us you would not be taking any more cases involving this hospital. I believed you.” He heard his voice crack and wanted to disappear. But he needed to get out what he had to say. “And because I believed you, I got involved with you. I was in lo...”

Clay felt the sharp stab to his heart as the reality of his unspoken words sank in. His anger morphed into an unidentifiable ache that would soon choke him. He was afraid to say more, afraid the strangled words would make him sound like a pathetic lovesick teenager.

Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears, but he refused to allow her misery to soften him. The silence between them grew into a crater. He had to say something. Or leave. But he couldn’t seem to make the decision one way or the other because once he left, he’d never see her again.

Yet, there was nothing more to say. A heaviness, so intense, bore down on his soul. “I have to get back to the ER. I left without notice.”

“Clay?”

Reluctantly, he glanced at Charlotte.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Clay shook his head. No apology from Charlotte could alleviate the weight of the crushing death to their relationship. What could have been, never really had a chance.

Clay opened the door and walked out of her office, his feet like lead, a far cry from the fueled propulsion that shot him over here.

Angst had turned to defeat, fear of her betrayal confirmed.

How could she have made love to him the way she did after she’d undoubtedly been working on the complaint? How could she dare pretend nothing was amiss, that she cared about him, that she hadn’t lied to him through omission?

The erotic, sensual images of their rapturous day at his house flashed across his mind, her graceful limbs enveloping him, her soft moans driving him mad with desire, her deep, arousing, kisses making him weak with need.

Why? Why had she led him on?

How could she be so cold?

Unfortunately, the whys and the hows no longer mattered. The simple fact was Charlotte had made a decision to cut him out of her life, bleeding and broken, with the stroke of a pen.

****

Charlotte stood at her desk, squeezing her eyes shut and wrapping her arms around her torso. As if that would hold her together.

“Is everything okay?” Her secretary stood in the doorway with a worried look on her face.

“Fine,” Charlotte croaked. “Could you close my door please?”

She fell into her chair and covered her face with her hands, blocking out the world around her. But she had to see it for herself. Swiveling toward her computer, she pulled the complaint up on her screen and stared at the caption—the caption she didn’t create. “
The Estate of John Lincoln v. Nassau General Hospital, Dr. Stanley Hauser, and Dr. Clayton Montgomery
.” She couldn’t bring herself to read the added count against Clay. Why hadn’t Brad discussed his revisions with her? Then again, what obligation did he have to do so? The case was his and he could make whatever decisions he deemed appropriate without her approval. Besides, he didn’t know about her relationship—former relationship—with Clay. And while he knew something about her prior connection to some of the doctors at Nassau General, that wouldn’t preclude her or the firm from filing a lawsuit against the hospital, a corporate entity with which neither she nor her law firm had any relationship with the shareholders of that entity.

The conflict of interest rules were designed to protect their current clients. Lawyers couldn’t represent a client if the representation was directly adverse to another client or if the representation would be limited by a personal interest—usually meaning financial—of the lawyer. The existence of a conflict could easily be alleviated if the affected client gives informed consent in writing.

Until this afternoon, while she felt guilty about being involved in a lawsuit against Nassau General because of her friendship with Clay and Dr. Collins, she knew there were no ethical problems with her representation. Now that Clay was a defendant, there could be, if they continued their personal relationship. But after today, that was clearly over.

She thought back to last Sunday when she’d contemplated confessing to her role in the case. Even if she had, at the time she only knew the case was against Hauser and the hospital. If she had told Clay that, and if he had somehow understood—which was a big if—he would have been in the same angry state he’d been in today, accusing her of lying to him and covering up the fact he was also a defendant.

Shock over the revelation he had made today, kept her nearly mute in his presence. Usually her stock in trade, words had eluded her as he stood accusingly before her, irate, hurt, and intractable. But she had no defense, no excuse, no explanation. She’d been as blindsided as him.

She’d been a fool to entertain even the slightest ray of hope. How could she ever have thought it would all work out somehow? She’d made a decision to get involved in another case against Nassau General. She knew, deep in her heart, it could sever their ties, even if Clay hadn’t been named as a defendant. As was her style, she had sabotaged their relationship so it could never work. But every time she did that in the past, she’d avoided the hurt and pain of losing someone. Her choice to end things always came before she cared too much. This time, it was too late. She’d already fallen in love.