Undeniably Enemies: Chapter 35

“Wren? What are you doing here?”

Wren is sitting calmly at the table, her expression stoic and unreadable, even with her eyes on me. Usually, I can read her. She’s an open book, but not right now. Something odd and uncomfortable twists inside of me. I don’t know what to make of her being in here. She didn’t mention anything to me this morning. Not a word about this.

And she wasn’t herself with me.

She doesn’t answer me, and the sick knot of dread that had been living in my stomach since last night in the store cinches tighter.

“Jack, Callan,” Dr. Harvey Heinmiller, the chairman of the board, greets us. “Good timing. Why don’t you both come in and have a seat?”

I don’t remove my gaze from her as I walk to the other side of the table and sit in the chair that was offered to me. My heart thunders, but with a dozen board members watching me carefully, I can’t do anything about the myriad of questions shooting through my brain like a barrage of bullets.

“Jack, let me start by saying that this is not how we expected our morning to begin,” Harvey says, taking his seat at the head of the table.

I pull my focus from Wren and turn it over to him. I’m going to assume he already knows everything. Why else would Wren be here, and why else would he have said that to me? “Yes, sir. Trust me when I tell you, it’s not how I wanted my morning to begin either.”

“No,” he agrees in a low voice. “I imagine it’s not. First things first, I suppose. It is our understanding that you are in a relationship with Miss Fritz. Is that correct?”

I swallow and glance over at her, again wondering what the fuck is going on before I turn back to him. “Yes, sir. That’s correct.”

“Miss Fritz has graciously and rather candidly answered all our questions, but just for checks and balances sake, we’d like to ask you some of them as well. Do you have any objections to that?”

I shake my head. “No, sir. Ask me anything.”

“When did you and Miss Fritz begin your relationship?”

“November eighth.”

“Can you elaborate on how your relationship began?”

I lick my lips and look back at her. I shouldn’t. I should look at the man asking questions and holding my future in his hands, but I can’t take my eyes off my girl. The one who still isn’t offering me anything to go on. Not even a Wren smirk.

“Miss Fritz and I have known each other, well, I’ve known her since she was born. Her brother is my lifelong best friend, though for the last five or so years, she and I haven’t gotten along so well.”

“Miss Fritz called you oil and water.”

I chuckle at the description. “That’s putting it mildly. Frankly, sir, she hated me. We’d had a miscommunication or a fight or whatever you want to call it, and after that, she couldn’t stand to be anywhere near me. Recently I moved into the apartment next to hers without realizing she lived there, and finally, after some discussion, we declared a truce and then a friendship of sorts.”

I sigh and sit forward in my chair, placing my hands on the polished wood table.

“I was already in love with her but refused to admit it, even to myself. Anyway, we kept our distance as much as possible, and here at work, I barely saw or spoke to her other than through her intern. That particular Friday, we had a very difficult and distressing trauma come in. It was upsetting for all of us, but it hit Miss Fritz particularly hard, and that was my breaking point.”

“Your breaking point?” a female board member, whose name I don’t remember, asks.

“Yes, ma’am. Wren, um, Miss Fritz was upset, and I hated seeing her that way. I took her home after our shifts and we talked. I opened up about my feelings for her and our romantic relationship began.”

“But you had already applied for chief at this point?” the woman continues.

“Yes. Miss Fritz had moved on to trauma surgery and I… I should have disclosed it. I knew Wren wanted to match in the ER, and I should have said something about it. I could tell you my reasons for not doing so, but they don’t excuse my actions.”

“You mean how Miss Fritz asked you not to say anything about your relationship?” Harvey throws out, and my face slingshots back to her.

“That was one reason,” I admit, surprised she told them that. “I figured on the off chance I got the position, I’d disclose my relationship with her then and remove myself from the match process if necessary. Still, it was wrong, and I’m sorry for not being honest about my relationship sooner.”

Harvey taps the edge of the table with his gold pen and studies me intently. “It is our understanding that Dr. Harrison Marshall saw you and Miss Fritz out together last night and threatened to come and out you to us. Is that correct?”

Now I’m starting to sweat. “Yes. It is.”

“What was your intention for coming in here this morning?”

I meet the gaze of every board member. “To give an honest account of my relationship with Miss Fritz. I knew Dr. Marshall wasn’t going to do that. I also wanted to ensure that regardless of what happened with me, Miss Fritz wasn’t penalized in any way and that her chances of matching in the emergency department here weren’t put at risk because I hadn’t come forward sooner.”

“Hmm,” Harvey hums and exchanges glances with a few of the other members around him before he returns to me. “Callan highly recommended you for the position,” he says, and I can’t help the small smile that finally tugs at the corner of my lips. “He was glowing in that recommendation and equally demonstrative about Dr. Marshall.”

My eyes bolt wide.

“Do you remember your words to me about him, Callan?”

Callan shifts beside me and drops his elbows to the table so he can lean forward and see Harvey better. “I said I never liked the guy. That there was something about him that always rubbed me the wrong way. I said he played favorites, and those were always the female staff members.” He clears his throat.

“Yes. I believe you said you wouldn’t trust him alone in a room with your wife.”

Callan shrugs. “Since we’re being candid, I still wouldn’t.”

“Dr. Kincaid, do you have anything to add to that?”

“Um. Well.” I blink, staring a bit bewilderedly at him. There’s something else going on here. Something I don’t know or understand, and I feel like I’m being set up. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”

“Have you ever witnessed Dr. Marshall engage in inappropriate behavior with any female staff members or patients?”

Well, fuck me sideways.

“I haven’t seen anything other than some flirting and maybe some touching that made me uncomfortable. If it made the staff member or patient uncomfortable, I can’t speak to that.”

“But you were uncomfortable enough to keep him away from Miss Fritz and not allow the two of them to work together while she was a student in the emergency department?” the woman asks.

“Originally, when I learned Miss Fritz was going to be a student there, I tried to put her with Dr. Marshall instead of with me because, as I said, we didn’t get along, and I didn’t think he’d have the balls, excuse my language, to cross any lines with a Fritz given how many relatives she has working here. But after seeing the way he looked at her and spoke to her, I quickly decided against that and kept her on my team and away from his.”

“So, simply put, you wouldn’t trust him alone in a room with your girlfriend,” the woman bluntly states.

“No, ma’am. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t trust him alone with my sister either.”

“Thank you, Dr. Kincaid. We appreciate your time and your honesty. We will discuss the matters at hand and have a decision about the next steps on Monday.”

Shit. That doesn’t sound good.

I mean, it doesn’t sound good for Marshall either, but it still doesn’t sound good for me.

Understanding that I’m being dismissed, I stand. “Thank you for your time.”

“Miss Fritz, you’re free to go as well. Callan, would you mind sticking around for a few minutes?”

“Of course not.” He gives me a look that’s meant to be reassuring, and I walk out of the room, glancing back for Wren, who isn’t far behind me. The heavy door shuts, and I take her by the wrist, and without wasting a second, I drag her away from the executive area of the hospital and onto the elevator.

“Jack—” she starts, but I cut her off with a sharp shake of my head.

Not here. Not yet.

We reach the first floor, and I walk us out of the building and down toward the river. The wind whips violently, twisting her ponytail around as it catches and tugs. Wren wraps her arms around her body to fight the cold, and I shirk out of my coat and toss it over her shoulders.

“What just happened in there? Why were you there, and why didn’t you say anything to me about doing that?”