Players

1. Score For Us!

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“And how am I supposed to deal with this problem?” I asked as I balanced my phone between my ear and shoulder while spreading the pancake batter onto the pan. Heart shaped pan. I have no idea where my daughter gets all this cringey things from, because it definitely could not be from me. Of course, she must have gotten it from my sister. After all, my little one really was a miniature version of her, but still, heart shaped pans? Really?

“You and Jeremy are like the two people who can even try to deal with this problem, Cass. And given the circumstances, you are the only one who can find a solution.” I rolled my eyes at the flattery.

The person on the other end was none other than my direct boss, Kevin Martin.

I worked in the Legal department of Red Cross Multi-Specialty Hospital and one of the anesthetists had messed up – the patient woke up mid-surgery. The only upside to the whole situation was that it was a brain surgery so the person did not have to see the inside of his body… outside, which I could use to my advantage.

Well, well, well, would you look at that? The wheels are already turning in my head.

But the other party was rich and influential. What we were looking at was a very expensive lawsuit, and to get the hospital out of it would be wonder work.

“I will look into the details and let you know what I think can be done about this situation.” I stated, straining my free ear to listen to the ruckus my daughter was making upstairs. What was she up to now? I swear to God, this girl never sits still.

“You are the best.” He said and hung up immediately.

I let out a sigh as I flipped the pancake and placed my phone down on the counter.

“Babe, what are you up to upstairs?” I called out to my seven year old.

“Nothing.” Her sweet voice came back way too quickly. Yep, she was definitely up to something.

“You know Mommy doesn’t like liars.” I said, plating the last of the heart shaped – ugh! – pancake onto the stack and placing it on the counter with the stools next to it.

“Mommy?” She called.

Yep, definitely up to something and she scr*wed up and now she has no other option but to get me to figure out the mess.

I walked up the small flight of stairs and into her play room from where I could hear more shuffling.

I entered the room and raised my brow at the condition of her doll.

“Honey, if you wanted a boy doll, you could have just asked me.” I sighed. “Why would you destroy Wonder Willow’s face like that?”

Madison just pouted at me.

“I wanted a boy who looked exactly like her.” She sniffled… fake sniffled. I knew very well that my kid didn’t cry. She got that from me. The two of us never cried. But she knew that pretending to be at the verge of tears will save her from my scolding. What she didn’t know was that I knew exactly what she was trying to do.

“Now, you neither have a boy who looks like her nor her.” I stated. “Come on, go get ready for school. I will let your teacher know that I will pick you up in the evening so you don’t have to board the school bus. We will go get new dolls.”

The smile on her face when she heard that could light up the whole room. Her sparkling green eyes and dimples reminded me of her birth mother’s smile. My sister’s smile.

Sydney, I wish you were here to watch your kid grow up. She is so amazing. She is the darlingest thing in the world and I am not saying it because I raised her.

“Okay!” She hugged my waist before running out of the room.

I smiled as I too made my way out and into my room. I had to get ready and look presentable for today.

We had some major sh*t to clean up.

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“Will I lose my job if I am not able to convince them?” I asked as I walked the hallway to room no. 309 where the patient was.

“Nah. We are at the very bottom with this case. There’s only uphill from here.” Jeremy Reed, my partner said as we reached the door.

I squared my shoulder and fixed my suit one more time before knocking on the door.

The door was opened by a middle-aged woman, whose eyes shined like that of a kid who just saw an ice-cream truck when her eyes landed on me.

“Come in.” She opened the door widely and ushered us in while the two of us looked at each other, wondering what the hell was wrong with her.

“And you are?” I turned around, coming face to face with eyes as cold as ice, the blackness so intense that it looked like they were going to suck you in like a black hole.

I took in his posture. He was seated leisurely on the couch with an iPad on his lap, his black curls were gelled back and his suit was creaseless. The man was flawless.

“Cassidy Meyers.”

“And Jeremy Reed, from the legal team.” Jeremy said.

“Ahh, the vultures. Here to peck at the remains.” I tilted my head. As gorgeous as this man, his mouth was just as foul.

“Ouch, that’s a bit mean.” I commented.

“And inappropriate.” The lady who opened the door said. “Dominic Grant, is this the way to talk to a young lady? You have been taught better than that.”

I sniffed, knowing what exactly the woman was doing. Mothers had a way of making me extremely uncomfortable by trying to ship me with their sons. I wonder when it was ever going to end.

“Sandra, can you stop making that girl uncomfortable?” The patient finally spoke up.

He had all our attention. Mathew Grant, a lawyer turned business man and a man of a very calm temperament. It was obvious from the dynamics in the room who had insisted on pressing charges.

“Cassidy Meyers, is it?” He smiled as he pressed on the control to lean the bed forward. “I heard a talk in the hallways that you will be called to deal with the matter.”

I gave him a tight smile. Why did the nurses have to talk?

“Maybe because I am the only compassionate one in the legal team?” I had to give my partner a side glance to make sure that he did not burst out laughing. “As a person who have gone through multiple surgeries in my life, I assure you, I know how scary all of this can be. And I can’t imagine what you would have gone through waking up mid-surgery.”

“What kind of surgery, hon?” Sandra Grant asked.

“Yeah, what kind of surgery did you go through, Ms. Meyers?” Dominic Grant asked, his voice mocking.

“Dom…” Mathew’s voice had a warning tone to it.

“Cancer.” I shrugged. “I had a part of my liver removed, my colon…”

“Stomach wall.” Jeremy added. That one, he would remember for life, because right before that, I had puked blood all over his tee.

“Oh my god…” Mrs. Grant had her hands over her lips.

“And this is the sob story you use to get the hospital out of trouble?” Mr. Grant asked.

“Dominic!” Mathew Grant seemed furious. Good, that’s exactly what I wanted. Only the patient or his emergency person – in this case, his wife – could really press charges against the hospital. I knew I had the older couple in the palm of my hands at this point, so I couldn’t give two sh*ts about Mr. Dominic Grant’s opinion of me.

“No, this is the story I tell to convince people how useless it is to press charges against a hospital that give lives to hundreds of people because one person made a mistake. The anesthetist has been fired. But if the lawsuit remains, the first thing the PR team would do is pull funds from charity cases to focus on VIPs and newer technology to wow the world. The hospital loses nothing if you press charges, but a lot of poor people lose their hope of a chance at a new life. And I really hope that does not happen. And that’s the only reason Jeremy and I came here on our off-day to talk to your family.”

Dominic and I stared at each other, the intensity building up tension in the room.

“We will not be pressing charges.” Mathew Grant said finally.

“Dad, are you really going to fall for this?” Dominic turned to his father; disbelief evident on his face.

“She spoke facts son. And I am the lawyer – I know better than you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thanks Mr. Grant. If you could just sign these papers...” Jeremy handed him the file. He took his reading glasses from the desk and just read through it before signing it.

“I am sorry for the trouble, Ms. Meyers and Mr. Reed.” Mr. Grant said.

“Oh no..”

“Compared to what happened to you, we should be thankful that you even had the heart to entertain us.” Jeremy said.

Taking our leave, we left the room.

“Man… You are so good.” Jeremy whispered as we walked to the elevator. “Wonder woman!”

“Well, the stupid cancer took a lot from me. I should profit from it as well, right?” I smirked as the elevator door closed. It was the same sob story I used every single time and it was so freaking effective. Use the sob story to have the patient’s attention and throw facts at them and they will bite the bait it no time.

“Yep. Score for us!” He held his hand high. I rolled my eyes before giving him a high five.

Score for us indeed.

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