Chapter 6 - The Price of Staying
Conrad stayed.
But staying was harder than paying hospital bills.
The investigation became public two weeks later.
Harlow Maritime appeared across every local news broadcast.
Federal investigators confirmed that executives connected to Northstar Freight Holdings were under investigation.
Conrad was not charged.
But public opinion did not care about technical distinctions.
Reporters waited outside his office.
Outside his home.
Then outside my hospital.
Briar approached me at the nurses’ station.
“There’s a camera crew across the street.”
I sighed.
“For me?”
“They asked whether you received money from Conrad.”
“Wonderful.”
“They also called you his mistress.”
I stared at her.
“Can I legally throw a bedpan at them?”
“Empty or full?”
“Briar.”
“Important distinction.”
Hospital administration requested a meeting.
The chief nursing officer spoke carefully.
“Lauren, nobody is accusing you of wrongdoing.”
“That sentence usually means something unpleasant follows.”
“We’re concerned about the appearance of a patient family member paying for your child’s medical procedure.”
“His father had already been discharged when the payment was made.”
“We know.”
“Conrad never received preferential treatment.”
“We know.”
“So what exactly are we discussing?”
“Media attention.”
I stared at her.
“My job?”
“Your job is secure.”
I exhaled.
“We simply think a short leave may protect you while this settles.”
“I can’t afford unpaid leave.”
“It will be paid.”
“Why?”
“Because you have six years of excellent evaluations, and none of this reflects misconduct.”
That surprised me.
“Thank you.”
When I left the meeting, Conrad was waiting near the elevators.
I stopped.
“You cannot keep appearing at my workplace.”
“I have an appointment.”
“With whom?”
He pointed toward the cardiac wing.
“My father.”
I felt foolish.
“Oh.”
“Although now I’m considering having you escorted out for harassing me.”
I smiled.
“That sounds expensive.”
“I know people.”
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Then I noticed his face.
“You haven’t slept.”
“I sleep.”
“When?”
“Occasionally.”
“What happened?”
Conrad hesitated.
“My father is resigning from the board.”
“Because of Northstar?”
“Yes.”
“Is that bad?”
“It’s necessary.”
“And you?”
“The board wants me to remain CEO.”
“You don’t sound happy.”
He looked through the glass toward the Seattle skyline.
“For years, I thought the company was the one thing in my family that made sense.”
“And now?”
“Now I know half of what I inherited was built on secrets.”
I stepped beside him.
“Then build the next half differently.”
He looked at me.
“You make difficult things sound simple.”
“They aren’t simple.”
“Then why say it that way?”
“Because complicated people use complexity as an excuse not to make decisions.”
His mouth curved.
“That sounded aimed at me.”
“It was.”
That evening, Conrad came to my apartment for dinner.
Jamie opened the door wearing superhero pajamas.
“You’re late.”
Conrad checked his watch.
“By three minutes.”
“That’s late.”
“My apologies.”
Jamie pointed to the table.
“We made spaghetti.”
“I was told your mother made spaghetti.”
“I stirred.”
“Then clearly you were essential.”
During dinner, Jamie asked the question neither of us expected.
“Are you going to be my dad?”
I nearly inhaled pasta.
“Jamie.”
“What?”
Conrad put down his fork.
He did not laugh.
Did not dodge.
He looked at Jamie seriously.
“You already have a father.”
“He doesn’t visit.”
My chest hurt.
Conrad nodded.
“That’s his choice. It isn’t because of you.”
Jamie pushed a meatball around his plate.
“So you’re not?”
Conrad glanced at me.
Then back at Jamie.
“I’m someone who cares about you.”
“And Mom?”
“Yes.”
“A lot?”
Conrad looked at me again.
This time he did not look away.
“A lot.”
Jamie seemed satisfied.
“Okay.”
Then he returned to dinner as though he had not just detonated an emotional bomb in my kitchen.
After he went to sleep, I stood beside the sink while Conrad dried dishes.
“You’re terrible at drying.”
“I employ people for this.”
“That is the most Conrad Harlow answer imaginable.”
He put down the towel.
“Lauren.”
Something in his voice changed.
I turned.
He looked nervous.
I had never seen Conrad nervous.
Not with FBI agents.
Not with executives.
Not with threats.
With me.
“What?”
“I need you to understand something.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“I paid Jamie’s bill because I could.”
“I know.”
“I stayed because I wanted to.”
“I know.”
“I’m here because…”
He stopped.
I waited.
Conrad Harlow, the man who could command boardrooms without raising his voice, suddenly could not finish one sentence.
I stepped closer.
“Because?”
His hand touched my waist.
“Because somewhere between your telling me visiting hours ended at eight and your son accusing me of being late by three minutes, I fell in love with both of you.”
There was no dramatic music.
No perfect speech.
Just my tiny kitchen, half-dried plates, and the dishwasher humming behind us.
I touched his face.
“Good.”
His eyebrows drew together.
“Good?”
“I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out.”
Then I kissed him.
For the first time in six weeks, Conrad stopped trying to solve everything.
May you like
And simply held me.
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