A Fiancé for the Holidays - Chapter 3
“Now that we’re done with your onboarding, let’s get down to practicum. You’ll shadow me this morning to get a handle on how we work, and then I’ll shadow you this afternoon. Tomorrow, I’ll cut you loose and you’ll take on all your cases alone.”
Zaire looked up from the orientation checklist in her hand to find Ainsley staring at her with a lifted brow.
“You do remember I’ve been practicing pediatric medicine just as long as you, right? Just because you did the fancy fellowship to specialize in pulmonology doesn’t mean I’m completely inept in a clinical setting.”
If he were anyone else, this would be the point where she would curse him and explain why as a woman, especially a Black woman in medicine, having those fancy specializations was the only way she could break through the glass ceiling. But the corner of his mouth lifted into a cocky grin.
“Why do you love giving me shit? Most paramours would find better uses of their time.”
“Paramour?” He stepped closer, and she instantly regretted her word choice. “Is that what I am? Because if I am, you’re right, I do have much better things to do with my time.”
She swallowed, staring at the fire sparking in his eyes. What was she thinking? This was never going to work. Ainsley, with his chiseled body, his intellect and his face that was way too pretty for words, had always been her weakness. Why would she put herself in this situation?
“There you two are.”
Zaire pulled her attention away from Ainsley’s tempting lips and focused on whatever it was her mother had come in here to say.
“The place is filling up already, so we’d better get started to keep the wait times down as much as we can. Ainsley—” her mother looked up at him with a soft smile spreading across her lips “—thank you for volunteering to help out this week. It’s a particularly busy one for us. We give everyone who comes in to see us a free ticket to our Kwanzaa celebration. This usually means our already high patient load gets even bigger.”
“Zaire told me you host this party every year for the community. She didn’t tell me much else about it.”
Her mother cut her eyes at her and Zaire had the distinct impression that she was liking Ainsley much more than Zaire in this moment.
“Patient outreach is really important here. We have people who don’t want to come to the clinic because they think they can’t afford medical care, because they don’t want charity, because they don’t trust the health care system to take care of them, because they can’t get the time off from work or simply because they’re too stubborn to admit they need medical intervention. This party serves as an incentive to get them here. It’s also a fundraiser for the clinic. We get local businesses to contribute and find donors through the few medical connections we have with larger facilities.”
Ainsley nodded, taking in everything her mother said. “That’s brilliant outreach, Dr. Paige. Are you still looking for donors? I’d love to support.”
Her mother beamed and Zaire could feel the tension building in her as she watched Orisha fall under Ainsley’s spell. Luckily, her mother only stayed for a few more moments, basking in Ainsley’s charm, before she left them alone.
“Don’t go trying to sweet-talk my mama. The deal still stands. No matter if she’s taken with you or not, if you don’t make it through the week, you hop on the first thing smoking back to California and leave me be.”
He chuckled, his bright smile so disarming she almost forgot she was supposed to be building a wall between them.
“Are you afraid my future mother-in-law might end up liking me more than she likes you? I’d say that’s payback for how my mother has pretty much forgotten I exist since I brought you home.”
Zaire couldn’t deny that. Jamila Clay loved her some Zaire Paige, and she never let Ainsley forget it. The feeling was definitely mutual. Not only had Jamila supported their relationship, but she’d been a professional mentor to Zaire from her first day of residency. Thinking of the bond she and the woman shared made Zaire ache with grief. Losing her as a casualty of the inevitable breakup with Ainsley was a sacrifice that hurt almost as much as the loss of the man she loved.
“Whatever,” she snapped. “Let’s just get started on our day, Dr. Clay.”
***
Ainsley plopped down onto the small sofa in the break room feeling like he’d run a marathon. Orisha and Zaire had not been exaggerating the number of patients waiting for them.
It was nearly two in the afternoon and he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since he’d arrived that morning. Body aching, stomach growling and feet burning, despite the expensive nursing clogs he’d had overnighted to him, he leaned back against the cushion and gave in to a relieved smile.
“Ready to call it a day, I see.”
Ainsley locked eyes with Zaire, who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb.
“Not at all,” he replied, straightening in the seat before giving her his attention. I haven’t felt this excited about work since we were back in our pediatric ER rotation. God, I’ve missed that rush.”
“What rush?”
“The rush of knowing what you’re doing in that moment matters.”
She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her and taking a seat next to him.
“If you’re saying what you do as the director of pediatric services at UCSF isn’t important, we both know you’re lying. You’re amazing at what you do. The higher-ups at the hospital, the kids and the parents love you. Even that bitter Nurse Wells likes you, and she hates everybody.”
Ainsley chuckled. Nurse Wells did hate everyone. But once she figured out he worked his butt off despite his family name being on the building, she’d taken to him like a duck to water.
“Of course I’m not saying that. I know what I do is important. But the excitement of knowing that the decision I’m making at this moment will immediately help my patients, and not worrying about the bureaucracy that often goes along with practicing in a state-of-the-art institution like UCSF, it’s refreshing.”
She nodded, sharing a knowing smile with him, making him feel at ease for the first time since he’d arrived in New York. This easiness had always been there between them until the recent tension had drowned it out. Experiencing it again gave him hope that they could get back to being them soon.
“I know exactly what you mean. It’s why I’m always rejuvenated every time I come home. Taking care of patients is why I got into this business. But I got caught up in the trappings of working at a prestigious facility and forgot about my dreams of giving back to my community.”
“Zaire, you know it doesn’t have to be either-or, right? You know we can find a way to both make an impact and help people while still enjoying the benefits of having a prestigious career too. You don’t have to give up one for the other.”
“When you say it like that, I almost believe it.”
Her eyes were wide with a shimmer of doubt mixed with hope as if she wanted to believe him but couldn’t let herself.
He covered her hand with his, giving it a light squeeze. “Why do you think you can’t?”
“Because my reality says different,” she answered. “Mama told you that we use the Kwanzaa party to draw in patients and donors for the clinic. Every year I come back here I do more than just volunteer to see patients. I also use my name and the prestige of being the chief of pediatric pulmonology at UCSF to get big, private institutions with lots of money to donate.”
She slid down into the sofa, allowing a heavy sigh to escape her lips. “Because of the health crisis over the last year, even hospitals that are doing well are strained to the breaking point and have to be careful with their funds. Those donations keep this clinic running. This year, all of my donors have either cut their usual donations by seventy-five percent, or they’ve declined to donate at all. If I can’t get money coming in by the end of January, we might have to close our doors.”
He tightened his hold on her hand, locking his gaze with hers. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before now, Zaire? You know UCSF has grants for situations like this.”
She pulled her full bottom lip between her teeth, something she did when she was thinking hard about something. “I know. But your mother is chief executive director of the hospital and your father is the chief nursing officer. You’re the director of pediatric services.”
“And you’re the chief of pediatric pulmonology,” he added as he leveled his gaze at her. “What does any of that have to do with you applying for a grant to help sustain the important work the people who work at this clinic provide?”
“You’ve always been a Clay, so you don’t understand. Every time I make a professional gain at UCSF, I always have to deal with people whispering that I got there because I’m screwing the bosses’ son. It’s one thing for me to deal with that kind of trash. I don’t want my mom and the clinic to have to deal with it too. Not to mention, your parents have been so good to me, I don’t want them to feel as if I were taking advantage of their kindness by asking them for money.”
Anger surged through him. He was angry that she hadn’t trusted him with this, that she would try to protect his parents and by extension him. Instead, she’d borne the brunt of this weight all alone. But more than anything, he was pissed at anyone who’d ever made her feel like all she’d accomplished was a result of anything other than her brilliance, hard work and dedication.
“You know my mother would write you a check in a heartbeat for something like this, even if it came from her personal account and not the hospital’s. We all would.”
She nodded. “I know. But I can’t put her in the position to bail my family’s clinic out. I’ve gotta figure this out on my own.”
She didn’t give him a chance to respond. Zaire simply gave him a sad smile, stood and quietly left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
“No, Zaire,” he said to the empty room. “You don’t have to do this on your own. I won’t let you.”