Page 135 of Crash

“Interesting perspective.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Especially given that your emotional detachment is what sets you apart from the other candidates for chief.”

I kept my expression neutral. “Is that the primary factor?”

He set his empty glass on a passing tray. “The board believes your … traditional approach is exactly what Mercy Harbor needs right now. In fact,” he continued, “barring any surprises, you’re our top choice for the position.”

My spine stiffened. This was the most coveted promotion in the hospital system, one that I had wanted more than anything.

Pride and happiness flickered within me, but it was unexpectedly muted, like a television with the volume low. The achievement I’d dreamed of felt hollow, a shell of what I’d imagined.

What the hell did that mean?

“I appreciate the committee’s confidence,” I said carefully.

“Just maintain that legendary composure of yours, Blake.” He clapped my shoulder. “Don’t give us any reason to question our assessment of you.”

In one night, Tessa and I both had our career dreams come true. I should take her out to dinner and celebrate, and I wouldcelebrateher. But why did I not feel like celebratingmycareer accomplishment?

Because you’re not sure your career is enough anymore. Because for the first time in your life, you’ve found something that matters more than medicine.

“Thank you, sir.” I managed to hide my inner conflict. For now. “Can I ask you something?”

He nodded.

“Do you know Dr. Tristan Rhodes?”

Dr. Vaughn scratched his chin, a fresh crystal glass the bartender offered dangling casually from his fingers. “Name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“He’s in private practice, affiliated with Mercy Harbor.” My ribs tightened. “When my girlfriend, Tessa, was at her sickest, she saw him, desperate for help. She had an array of physical symptoms, but when the first labs came back normal, you know what he told her?”

Dr. Vaughn waited, his expression neutral.

“He told her he didn’t believe she was actually sick. Said her problems were all psychological.” My voice turned to ice. “This from a doctor with zero psychological training.”

It had taken every ounce of self-control not to beat Rhodes to a bloody pulp. After Tessa refused to give me his name, I’d scoured through her medical records and found the evidence in black-and-white, Rhodes’s own damning notes in her chart. I’d even driven to his house, my fist itching to reshape his facial bones, but something stopped me at his front door. A beating would only last minutes. He deserved something far more devastating: the end of his medical career.

I’d planned to escalate this to the medical director, but sometimes, you can’t pass up an opportunity like this. Dr. Vaughn’s power in the hospital system was massive.

His fingers tightened around his glass. “Perhaps Tessa’s case was uniquely complicated.”

“Complicated?” The word sliced like a surgeon’s ten blade. “So, anyone whose symptoms are tricky to figure out, who comes to us for help at their physical and emotional worst, deserves to be dismissed as delusional?”

“No,” he agreed, but his tone remained diplomatic.

“I looked into Rhodes’s cases. In the last six months, he’s told twenty-eight percent of his patients their problems were psychological.”

Dr. Vaughn’s features hardened slightly.

“I wonder how many of those patients never sought another doctor.” My voice dropped lower. “And I wonder how many might die because they don’t.”

“I’d have to look at those cases individually before forming?—”

“Doctors having each other’s backs? Really?”

“What, exactly, are you hoping to gain from this conversation, Dr. Morrison?” His diplomatic veneer cracked. “Because I can assure you the decision for chief of emergency medicine isn’t in ink yet, and the board doesn’t look kindly on people who?—”

“Who hold doctors to ethical standards?” I cut in. “Mercy Harbor is a world-renowned level-one trauma center. Any doctor affiliated with it should represent excellence in patient care. Period.”

“Do you not find this somewhat hypocritical?” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard about your bedside manner. You’re harsh and uncaring.”