Tempting Nashville's Celebrity Doc. Amy Ruttan
am surprised to see you’re still here...”
“Well, I wasn’t offered a chance to study under Dr. Mannheim.” There was a hint of bitterness to his voice, but really she wasn’t surprised. Over the years working as Dr. Mannheim’s protégée she’d dealt with a lot of people who were envious of her position.
People who also voiced their opinions that she didn’t deserve it.
That she didn’t earn it.
That she’d slept her way in, but none of that was true. They would know it wasn’t true if they met Dr. Mannheim’s life partner.
Still, there was always an undercurrent of jealousy. Working with Dr. Mannheim had been a huge honor and she wasn’t sorry for taking it. She’d needed to get away from Nashville. She had to protect her heart.
“You could’ve had a similar opportunity, but you never pursued anything. In fact I’m surprised to see you still here. I thought you would’ve moved away. Find a greener pasture for your surgical skill to flourish.”
Reece’s eyes narrowed. “I was needed here. I never wanted to leave Nashville. As I recall, you were the one who was ready to leave this place at a moment’s notice. Greener pastures never impressed me much.”
“I didn’t come back here to argue with you,” Vivian said. “I don’t regret leaving. I came here to work.”
His expression was like thunder and she instantly regretted her words. Reece shut the door and then took a seat in the one and only chair that didn’t have a ton of papers or a box on it.
“Of course. You’re right, Vivian. Whether we like it or not, we’re working together on this. Past is past. Let’s focus on the now and our patient.”
She nodded, relieved but also disappointed...
What was that about?
She was here to work, not dredge up the past. Coming back home to Nashville was bad enough; she didn’t need old feelings getting in the way.
“So why don’t we get to work, then?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, leaning back in the chair. “What would you like to talk about?”
“Why don’t you fill me in on Mr. Trainer’s case?”
“Signs and symptoms point to Parkinson’s, but...”
“His test came back negative, I take it?”
Reece nodded. “Yes, even though really it’s too soon to tell and hard to diagnose Parkinson’s in the early stages.”
“Do you know when the symptoms first started? Has he given you a history?”
Reece nodded. “He did and the symptoms only started out of the blue the other day when he collapsed on stage. That was two days ago.”
“Sudden onset?” she asked, confused, as the thousands of possibilities swirled in her brain.
“Yes. He collapsed during a performance with what looked like an epileptic seizure. As you can tell from his MRI.” Reece handed her a computer pad, an MRI on the screen. “It’s clear of epileptic seizure activity.”
Vivian stared at the MRI, instantly assessing the images in front of her, like she’d done a thousand times before. Like she’d done about three months ago when her mother’s MRI showed up in her inbox and she could see the clear markers for early onset Alzheimer’s.
“Don’t you worry about me, baby girl. You stay in Germany. Finish your trial. Your work is important.”
It was the tone which had scared her. The shake in her mother’s voice behind the facade of happiness. The same tone she’d used that terrible night Vivian had found her mother bleeding on the kitchen floor. So even though her mother had said she was okay, Vivian knew she wasn’t.
Vivian owed it to her mother to come back home. Her mom had been her only constant in her life. She had sacrificed so much so Vivian could create a future for herself—so she didn’t have to rely on someone else. That was what her mom had always said. In other words, a life where she didn’t have to rely on a man.
“You don’t need a man, Vivian. You’re smart, talented. Don’t let anyone hold you back.”
Her mom’s words had made her decide to go to Germany in the first place. She had wavered over it and for one brief moment she’d thought about putting down roots with Reece. Her mother had changed her mind.
She was very well aware that her mother’s singing career had been held back by her father. A father who couldn’t even be bothered to stick around. Her mother gave up a huge contract because Vivian’s father had been jealous of his wife’s success and then when he was offered a gig he was gone.
And that was the last they saw of him and their savings.
She couldn’t leave her mother high and dry. She couldn’t let her mother, who had early onset Alzheimer’s, live out the rest of her life in a rundown facility while she was halfway across the world.
Vivian might be cutthroat when it came to her career, but she loved her mother. Loved her enough to come back to Nashville.
“Vivian, you okay?”
She shook her head, chasing those thoughts away. “Sorry?”
“You zoned out. I thought perhaps you saw something I might’ve missed,” Reece said, a hint of concern in his voice. She didn’t deserve him. Never had.
“No, sorry. Jet lag.” She passed the tablet back to Reece. “I think I would like another MRI done and an EEG monitor for a forty-eight hour period. Perhaps we can force a seizure in a controlled and monitored environment.”
Reece nodded. “Sounds good, but how do you propose we do that when we don’t know what triggered it?”
“You said he had a seizure on stage at the concert, right?”
“Yes, he did.”
“How about we start with flashing lights, dark room and loud music?”
A small grin crept across Reece’s face. It was good to see him smile. “Good thinking. I’ll get my team of residents on it.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you have the team of residents so readily at your disposal.” It was so easy to talk to him about medicine. She’d forgotten. It was how they’d first connected. How he’d gotten through her defenses.
“Well, all the surgeons do. It’s just I’ve been using them more often for my Alzheimer’s trial study.”
Vivian perked up. “Alzheimer’s study?”
Reece nodded. “Yes, I have a trial running now with some medication therapy and electrotherapy with EEG monitoring for brain activity. I just started it.”
“Have you found all your participants?” Vivian asked.
Reece frowned and cocked an eyebrow. “Why are you so interested?”
“Don’t get on the defensive. Alzheimer’s is not my specialty. I was merely making conversation.”
Reece stared at her in disbelief, but then relaxed. “Yes, my trial is currently full. There is a large pool of people suffering from early onset Alzheimer’s who are more than willing to participate.”
Vivian tried not to show her disappointment, but really it was to be expected. Alzheimer’s trials filled up quickly.
“So not interested in Alzheimer’s, but here to take Dr. Brigham’s job?” he asked.
The question caught her off guard. “Who told you that?”
“I’m not obtuse, Vivian. I know that’s why you’ve come back to Nashville. Why else would you leave Mannheim’s practice?”
“For