A Perfect Homecoming

KYLE PARKED HIS TRUCK in the staff lot at the hospital and made his way to the second floor where he was meeting the hospital lawyer about his lawsuit.

“Hey, Tom.” Kyle and his longtime friend shook hands. “Please tell me you’ve made this lawsuit go away.”

Tom Patterson grimaced. “Afraid not.” He gestured for Kyle to take a seat at the conference table and sat down across from him.

“But I did everything according to standard procedures,” Kyle insisted. “There was no way for me to know the guy was a recovering drug addict.” Blood pounded at his temples. This whole thing was ridiculous—a waste of time and money. “He had a freaking compound fracture. His femur was sticking through his skin at a right angle. All the guy did was yell for pain meds.”

Tom made a face at the explicit details and raised a hand, while his other hand tapped his pen on the table next to an open folder. “He claims differently. He says he never would have asked for drugs when he’d been clean and sober for nearly three years.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“He swears he was wearing a medical-alert bracelet. And he has documentation that shows he’s had it since he left rehab.”

“Impossible!” Kyle couldn’t believe this. “We were at the scene of a horrific car accident. It’s one of the first things I checked when I pulled him out of the car. Could it have come off in the accident?”

Tom shrugged. “That’s possible, I guess, but it never showed up. He also says he carries a card in his wallet.”

“There was definitely no wallet on him and his car was on fire. I was lucky to get him and his passenger out before the car exploded.” Kyle ran his hands through his hair. He’d been the only other person on the road when he came across the one-car accident. “What’s the status of his passenger? Is she still in a medically induced coma?” The woman had been airlifted to Shock Trauma in Richmond, so Kyle hadn’t been able to monitor her condition.

“Last I heard,” Tom verified. “Which means we can’t count on her testifying whether or not he was even wearing the alert.”

“But it is possible he wasn’t wearing it, right?” That had to be it. The scenario made more sense than if it had fallen off during the accident.

Tom hesitated before answering. “It’s been known to happen.” He consulted his notes. “My investigator says this was a first date for the pair. They’d met through an online dating service.” He looked up at Kyle. “It’s possible the guy didn’t want questions about his addiction. A medical-alert bracelet or even a necklace would have brought up obvious questions.”

“But we can’t prove that.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m positive he had no medical-alert jewelry on his person.” Kyle ran his fingers through his hair.

“That’s exactly what you should say in the deposition next week. No more, no less.”

Kyle considered the advice. “Will this actually go to trial?” He’d never been involved in a malpractice suit before.

“That depends on whether or not we can get any information from the passenger. You know I’ll do whatever I can to make this go away.” He paused and stared at Kyle. “I owe you.”

“Not true.”

Back in high school, Tom and Kyle became friends through football. Kyle was the school’s starting quarterback and Tom was the best receiver Grand Oaks High had seen in two decades. He caught balls that most players didn’t even try for.

Which was how Tom’s football career ended. He’d been scouted by several top football colleges and finally decided to go to the University of Southern California. Unfortunately, he tore up his knee in the second game of his freshman season while stretching full out for a pass, ending his football career.

Kyle had been there for him, flying to California to see him and later suggesting he transfer to a Virginia school so they could all support him.

Tom never let Kyle forget how much that meant to him.

“I’ll let you know if there’s any change in the woman’s condition,” Tom said.

They spent a few more minutes discussing the deposition before they ended the meeting and went their separate ways.

Kyle had stepped into the elevator to go to the fourth floor to check on Stan when Ashleigh’s familiar voice called out, “Hold the elevator!”

Kyle was close enough to the doors to hold them open with his hand as Ashleigh came rushing down the hall.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.

Did the blood really need to drain from his brain to his crotch because he had a déjà vu moment at the sound of her voice? Okay, not just her voice—that had been her sexy bedroom whisper. The tone she took when she seduced him.

He inhaled deeply and took control of his body. “How did it go with your patients?”

“Pretty routine.” She focused on her hands as she folded and unfolded them.

“What brings you to the hospital?” For some reason he couldn’t be silent on the short elevator ride. “Are you visiting Stan?”

She shook her head.

Fine, she didn’t want to talk to him.

The elevator doors opened on four and Kyle stepped into the hallway. He turned to say goodbye and realized how pale she was. “Are you okay, Ashleigh?” he asked.

She shrugged, still concentrating on her hands.

He was about to walk away but instead stepped back into the elevator.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

This time their gazes collided and he realized how upset she was.

“Trying to be considerate.” His words were clipped. “Although you definitely make it difficult.”

Her eyes widened. “How am I doing that?”

“By denying that practicing medicine again is one of the most difficult things you’ve done in a long time. That’s how.”

Her shoulders straightened and she shot back. “What business is it of yours anyway?” The elevator reached her floor and she stepped out before the doors were completely open.

He gritted his teeth. “You’re right, it’s none of my business. You made it none of my business when you took off for Richmond.” He punched the number for his floor again and the close doors button, but she was already gone.

* * *

“DR. WILSON!”

Ashleigh turned at the male voice calling to her from down the hallway and couldn’t help but smile. She’d just checked on her teenage patient, which had given her a chance to cool down after her run-in with Kyle. Now, seeing her old friend, her mood lightened considerably.

“Dr. Wilson?” she teased Tom. “Is that how childhood friends greet each other, Attorney Patterson?”

They hugged and he kissed her cheek. “Good to see you, Ashleigh,” he said. “It’s been too long.” He paused a moment and winked when he added, “And I prefer Thomas Patterson, Esquire.”