Unchained Memories (32 page)

She’d been here for less than a year.

Yet she’d learned so much—good and bad.

“What are you doing?” Annie interrupted, confusion etched on her face.

“I resigned. I’m going back to San Francisco.”

Annie fell into one of her client chairs. “Are you out of your mind? Why would you do a thing like that?”

Charlotte sighed. “There are so many reasons. I don’t know where to begin.”

“I don’t care where you begin, just start talking before I start screaming.”

Charlotte held up her hand. “Okay. Okay. I’m sure you saw the press conference on the Lincoln case where I found out that Dr. Collins funded my education.”

“So it’s true?”

“Yes. And Brad knew about it even before he hired me. He’d offered me the job planning to use me in all cases involving Nassau General so I’d convince Dr. Collins to have the hospital and doctors settle with us. When the Lincoln matter came in, he must have been salivating.” Heat rose up into Charlotte’s face and spread to her scalp. “And I fell right into his trap. He used my mother’s death to suck me in.”

Annie started to speak, but obviously thought better of it.

Charlotte continued her rant. “I can’t believe I thought he was one of the most brilliant attorneys around. I actually imagined I could learn from the best, be associated with the best.” She shook her head. “I was such a fool. He hired me so he could use me. Not only with Dr. Collins. He put me out there to convince the general public that we are the good guys, ready, willing and able to go after those bad doctors who hurt people. And to prove just what a great advocate we are, here is Charlotte Taylor, suing the very hospital whose chief of surgery paid for her to go to law school.” Shards of anger slashed through her system. “If she could do that, then her client must be on the right side.”

“But I heard Brad left the firm. You won’t have to work with him anymore. You’d probably be the one to take over all his cases.”

Charlotte looked around her office for anything she might have missed. “No. I don’t want to take over his cases.”

“I know things seem bad right now, Charlotte, but you know you should never make decisions when you’re angry. Especially one this important. You need to think this through. You’re making a hard choice. One that will affect your whole life. Please don’t make it rashly.” Annie leaned forward in her chair, pleading with her to be practical instead of emotional.

But Charlotte was beyond reason. “I’ve already made my decision. Besides, it was always my plan to return to San Francisco after Renee had her life back under control. She’s doing fine. More than fine. She’s thriving at work, managing the kids and even dating.”

“Maybe she’s doing fine, but you’re not. You could use your only family to lean on. And if you do leave this firm, as you seem bent on doing, you’re going to need moral support while you look for another job. Who else would you turn to but your sister?”

Charlotte closed the box and taped it. “I’ve managed on my own since I was eighteen. I think I could take care of myself now. I’ve done it before.”

Grabbing her box, Charlotte headed for the door. “I’ll call you in a few days and we’ll talk more. I’m not leaving for another few weeks. I want to spend some time with Renee and the kids.”

A bittersweet feeling of warmth spread through her at the thought of Eva and Jake. She had grown so close to them.

“I can see in your eyes you don’t want to leave them.” Annie walked beside her to the lobby, then through the front door before she tried another tack. “There are several other law firms in the area that do med mal.”

“I’m not sure I want to do malpractice anymore.”

“So get involved in some other type of law. Or maybe work for a lobbying firm. You’d be great at advocating for the health care industry.”

Charlotte laughed then shook her head. “You’re a good friend, Annie, and I appreciate your suggestions.”

“What about Clay?”

Now she was pulling out all the stops.

“What about him?”

“How could you walk away from the love of your life?”

The stab to her heart was no less painful than it had been weeks before. “Anything we had is gone now. The lawsuit we filed against Clay had a chilling effect on our relationship.”

Flashing through Charlotte’s mind was Clay’s face—stony anger followed by dismissal—when she’d run into him at the bar. He’d eliminated her from his life. The only reason she’d seen him again was because of Jake’s emergency.

A warm rush at the thought seeped through her. He’d been wonderful that night despite the lawsuit, holding her, comforting her. She longed to be back in his arms, feeling his strength, his protectiveness. But it was never to be.

She’d blown her chance with him. As if it hadn’t been hard enough their careers conflicted, she’d managed to hammer the nail into their coffin when she’d gotten involved in another case against Nassau General. And him.

Charlotte dug deep to find a smile to give to Annie. “It’s best this way. Nothing good can come from me staying. I’ll just disappear in a few weeks, as if I’d never arrived.”

Nearly choking on her words, she put her box down and gave Annie a hug. “I’ll miss working with you. It was fun while it lasted.” She picked up her box again and started toward her car.

“Plan your next vacation in California,” Charlotte called over her shoulder. “I’ll show you around.”

Her light invitation belied the heavy weight in her soul. She had rediscovered her home during this past year, and now she was leaving.

Again.

Chapter Thirty

Clay fingered his red silk tie then pulled on his suit jacket. It was all so confining. How could businessmen wear these outfits every day?

“Well, don’t you look handsome.” Becky tried for a whistle, but mostly air came out.

“Thanks. But flattery won’t work. I’m being deposed in fifteen minutes and I’m a little nervous.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong. Have you met with your attorney to discuss your testimony?”

“Yeah.” Clay inhaled as he paced the hall in front of his office. He shouldn’t be nervous at all. He had done everything by the book. No deviation from the standards of care. But, of course, it wasn’t the legal proceeding that made him jittery.

“Where’s the deposition?”

“Here. In the conference room on six.” He glanced at his watch.

“Why’d you get all dressed up if it’s here? They’re making it convenient for you. You could have just worn scrubs.”

Clay ignored her comment, feeling the discomfort of his tie tighten around his neck. “I’m going up. See you later.”

“You got dressed up for Charlotte, didn’t you?”

He could hear the amusement in her voice. She was enjoying this. Refusing to answer, he hopped onto the elevator to avoid further question.

He did do it for Charlotte. Crazy, of course. He wanted to impress her with his style, his brains, and his confidence. He’d get through this hopefully, with precise, logical answers to her questions and self-assurance. By the end, she’d realize she had no case against him and dismiss the complaint. Then she’d beg his forgiveness while pleading with him to take her back.
Hah! Where did that fantasy come from?

Buttoning his jacket, he smoothed the fabric over his torso and walked into the conference room. His attorney sat at the table shuffling some papers while the court reporter set up her machine. Another woman, conservatively suited, sat to the right of the court reporter. He tossed a questioning nod to his attorney.

“Anne Preston, this is Dr. Clayton Montgomery. Clay, Ms. Preston is with Cooper, Smith & Bartlett, attorneys for the plaintiff.”

“Where’s Ms. Taylor?” His stomach sank as he waited for the response.

“I’ve been assigned to take your deposition.”

Waves of disappointment washed through him. He’d desperately wanted to see Charlotte, even if it was on the opposite side of the table while taking his deposition. He allowed the curious change of attorneys to settle. Perhaps it was a good thing. Maybe Charlotte had finally decided to get out of the case because little Jake’s allergic reaction had made her see the light. Or maybe, finding out Collins had paid for her education made her rethink her career. That bit of information had to be a shock. Or maybe, she cared about Clay too much to proceed.

“Dr. Montgomery, are you ready to get started?”

He nodded to Ms. Preston as he chided himself on his wishful thinking. If Charlotte had cared about him at all, she would never have gotten involved in the suit in the first place.

****

Four hours later and he was free. Clay checked his watch and scurried out of the building. He wanted—needed—to call Charlotte. Needed to know why she hadn’t shown up.

Throughout the deposition, his mind had gravitated to that very same issue. To the point where he wasn’t even focusing on the questions. He gave half answers some of the time and asked Ms. Preston to repeat the question most of the time. No wonder it had taken so long.

Whipping off his suit jacket, he jogged to his condo, less than a quarter mile from the hospital. It wasn’t quite five o’clock and Charlotte never left the office before eight anyway.

His heart pounded in his chest from the double whammy of physical exertion and anticipation. Had she resigned from the case? That would be great news. If so, he needed to hear it from her.

In less than ten minutes he surrounded himself with the privacy of his condo. Loosening his tie, he grabbed the phone and punched in the numbers he knew by heart.

“Charlotte Taylor,” he said out of breath.

Anxiety, need, and excitement all rolled into one big adrenaline rush.

“She’s no longer at the firm. Is there someone else who can help you?”

The words got mixed up somehow and he stood perfectly still, trying to decipher what he’d just been told. “You must be mistaken. I asked for Charlotte Taylor. She does medical malpractice.”

“Yes. Ms. Taylor resigned. Ms. Preston is handling her cases. Would you like to speak to her?”

“No...yes!” he ended up shouting.

Holding his breath while he squeezed the receiver, he waited, not at all patiently.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Preston is out of the office right now. Can I take a message?”

Should he leave a message? “No, thanks. I’ll call back.”

He slammed the phone down as blood swirled in his head. He dialed Charlotte’s home number. No answer.
Calm down. Think. Call Renee.
She would tell him the truth.

Scouring the fine print in the phone book, he cursed as he squinted, trying to find the number. There! He misdialed twice before finally connecting.

“Renee, it’s Clay Montgomery. Is Charlotte there?”

She paused before answering. “No, she’s not.”

“Do you know where she is? I need to talk to her. It’s important.”

“I think she’s home packing.”

His heart sank. “Packing for what?” he dared to ask, knowing she’d be returning to San Francisco.

Another pause. “You should speak to her.”

“I’m trying. I can’t reach her.” He knew he sounded desperate, but didn’t care. “Renee, I really need to talk to her. Could you help me out?”

Hopefully she’d capitulate to the pleading in his voice. “She doesn’t always answer the phone. If she knew it was you...”

The punch to his gut was physical. “Thanks, Renee.” He hung up.

By car, she only lived five minutes away on the other end of the borough, but rush hour traffic was sure to make it twenty. Walking would take at least a half hour. And although he could run the distance in a third of the time, he didn’t want to show up on her doorstep disgusting and sweaty. He grabbed his keys and sprang into action.

No one would count patience as one of his virtues at this particular moment, and he was seconds from becoming one of those crazy motorists who preferred to lay on their horns—as if that helped—rather than inch noiselessly through town. But sitting at a red light while it went through three cycles had him teetering on the edge as he pounded the steering wheel and shouted expletives at everyone impeding his progress. At least the windows were up.

As predicted, twenty minutes later he arrived on her street, and with no legal parking spot in sight, he slid his car in front of a fire hydrant. He would welcome a ticket if it meant he could talk Charlotte out of her crazy idea of returning to California.

He pounded, rather than knocked on her door. “Charley, it’s me, Clay. Let me in.”

Hoping none of her neighbors were home to call the police about the lunatic on Charlotte’s front porch, he kept up the assault on the door until she finally opened the barrier between them.

Charlotte stood in the doorway, her hair pulled up into a ponytail, with escaping strands falling around her beautiful face. She wore blue jeans and a red button-down sweater, which matched the polish on her barefoot toes. Very sexy.

He swallowed the anxiety that had driven him here in a fit of panic. “Hi. Can I come in?”

Her eyes widened. “Is something wrong? You look...different.”

He probably looked like a disheveled, half-crazed stockbroker with his tie pulled down, his shirt now rumpled and his suit jacket missing. Not the look he was going for.

He entered as she stepped back holding the door open. “You weren’t at my deposition today.” A brilliant statement.

“Annie has the case now.”

His eyes settled on packing boxes.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“Why?”

“I’m going back to California.”

“You can’t.” A totally unreasonable statement which he had no right to utter, but there it was. Reaching for a logical explanation for his demand, he said, “What about Renee and the kids? They need you.”

Charlotte angled her head as if to look at him from a different view. “No, they don’t. Renee is back to work and the kids seem to be adjusting.”

He’d run out of obvious reasons. Did he have the nerve to confess the truth? When he remained silent, she turned and picked up some masking tape to secure one of the boxes. “Since you’re here, you can help. Would you mind grabbing that box over there?” She gestured with her head as she continued her chore.