Somewhere in my head, a small alarm goes off.
Chapter Thirteen
Lucas
The Sterling Medical Center is much bigger and sleeker than I imagined. The photos and models at the opening showcased the hospital, but I assumed they were designed to idealize it as much as possible.
Nate’s office is in the back on the top floor, and I walk past an empty secretary’s desk straight into his inner sanctum. It’s small—for the moneyman of the whole operation—and modestly furnished with a standard work desk and one of those high-end ergonomic mesh chairs. A miniature painting of a strawberry farm hangs on the wall. Thin white industrial blinds cover the window behind him—which faces the parking deck, unless I’m guessing the building layout incorrectly.
Nate pushes back the chair—it looks like he’s being engulfed by some high-tech alien insect—and stands, a big smile splitting his face. “Finally, the mystery man!” He hugs me, slapping my back heartily a couple of times. I’m not a hugger, but it’s impossible to pull away when Nate Sterling wants to give you an exuberant greeting.
Although he looks a lot like his older brother—the same dark hair and dark eyes—there’s a softer and nicer aspect that Justin doesn’t have. It could be a mask, of course. Justin didn’t start acting like Justin until he took over Sterling & Wilson.
Nate pulls away. “Honest to God, I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“A little over two years.”
“Right. The crash. How you doing?”
“I’m fine. Did the rehab, got better.”
He nods, watching me. “Good to hear. Hey, you want something to drink? The break room has c
offee, some tea…”
“You said something about a tour.”
“Direct as always.” He laughs. “All right, let’s go. I can’t wait to show you everything.” He leads me out and into the hall.
The interior is just as impressive as the outside. Because the medical center will primarily cater to the poor, I assumed it would be utilitarian and low-cost—sort of what you see on those TV shows about harried but dedicated medical professionals in inner-city clinics. But everything’s bright and ultramodern. It looks like another hospital the Sterling family built not too long ago—the Ethel Sterling Children’s Hospital. Although I didn’t go to that opening, I saw the media coverage. Very high-tech.
“I thought the goal was to stretch our dollar to provide care, not to have the nicest building we can get,” I say.
“It was. Still is. Why do you think I had Justin pay for most of this?” Nate gestures around.
“You got Justin involved?”
“He’d been nagging me to do some charity work, so I figured turnabout was fair play. I’m not averse to using the family money if the cause is good. And this is a good cause.” He smiles at a cute nurse. “Most of the medical staff came from overseas volunteer positions. I thought they’d understand what it’s like to serve the needy the best. And since you weren’t in the mood to help, I put Elizabeth on the advisory board.”
“How many times you want me to say I’m sorry?”
“As many times as I called.”
I frown. “Which is…how many?”
“At least ten. Didn’t Rachel tell you?”
A shrug. “She might’ve. I probably wasn’t in the mood to listen.”
“Because of the crash?” Nate’s eyes are exceptionally shrewd as he watches me.
“Rehab. Getting used to my new ugly face. You know, the usual.”
He exhales. “Retreating probably made it worse. I don’t know why your doctors didn’t tell you to go rejoin the living. I mean, you could’ve been around friends who care rather than staying in the Pacific North-Lost.” He shudders.
Nate thinks I’m still in Seattle, and being an outdoors man, he hates the rain and gray skies. I don’t bother to correct him. The last thing I want to do is get into why I lingered in Charlottesville.
The main lobby is also a waiting area with tons of chairs. People are filling out paperwork, and a couple of receptionists in pale lavender coats help the ones who come over to their desks. The cheap clothes some of them are wearing remind me of what Ava and I bought in that bed and breakfast town, and I scowl in spite of myself. I would’ve traded everything I have for a forever with Ava. But she didn’t want that.