Last Night at Chateau Marmont
Page 34
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Kaylie sniffled. “I’m sorry to bother you,” she said quietly.
“You didn’t bother me at all! I gave you my number so you would use it, and I’m happy you did. Makes me feel popular.” Brooke smiled.
They hung up and Brooke sent herself an e-mail reminder to look up the nutritional information for fast-food restaurants and pass it along to Kaylie. She was a few minutes late getting upstairs to the hospital break room, and only her colleague Rebecca was there when she arrived.
“What are you doing here today?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m making up a few missed shifts. Unfortunately, the trade was three shifts for a double on Sunday.”
“Ouch. Tough terms. But worth it?”
Brooke laughed ruefully. “Yeah, I think I got killed, but seeing Julian perform at Bonnaroo was really cool.” She placed her purse and her packed lunch in her locker and followed Rebecca into the hallway. “Any idea if Margaret’s in today?”
“I’m right here!” A cheerful voice trilled out behind them. Brooke’s boss was wearing a pair of black dress slacks, a light blue blouse, and black loafers, all topped by a perfectly starched and pressed lab coat that was embroidered with her name and credentials.
“Hello, Margaret,” Rebecca and Brooke said in unison before Rebecca peeled out, claiming she was late for her first patient.
“Brooke, why don’t you join me in my office for a minute? We can talk there.”
Nightmare. She should’ve remembered that Margaret almost always put in an appearance on Sunday mornings just to make sure things were running smoothly.
“O-oh, everything’s fine,” she stammered. “I, uh, I was just wondering if I was going to get to say hello to you.”
Her boss had already begun walking down the long hallway toward her office. “Come now,” she called to Brooke, who had no choice but to follow her. The woman must have sensed Brooke was about to ask for more time off.
Margaret’s office was located down a dark hallway, next to the supply closet and on the same floor as the maternity ward, which meant there was a pretty good chance the conversation would be punctuated by an errant scream or a groan. The only upside was getting to glance in the nursery as they walked by. Maybe she’d have a free second a little later to go in there and hold a baby or two. . . .
“Come right in,” Margaret said as she swung open the door and turned on the lights. “You caught me at the perfect time.”
Brooke tentatively walked in behind her and waited for her boss to clear a pile of papers off the guest seat before lowering herself into the chair.
“To what do I owe this honor?” Margaret smiled, but Brooke read between the lines. They’d always enjoyed an easy, natural relationship, but lately Brooke had begun to sense tension between them.
She forced herself to smile and prayed this wasn’t an inauspicious start to a conversation she really needed to go well. “Oh, hardly an honor, I’m sure, I just wanted to talk to you about—”
Margaret smiled. “It is a bit of an honor considering I haven’t seen much of you lately. I’m glad you’re here, because there’s something I need to discuss with you.”
Brooke took a deep breath and reminded herself to keep calm.
“Brooke, you know how fond I am of you, and it goes without saying that I’ve been extremely pleased with your performance in all the years you’ve worked here. And of course, so have your patients, as evidenced by those terrific evaluations a few months ago.”
“Thank you,” Brooke said, unsure how to respond but certain this wasn’t going somewhere good.
“Which is why it’s upsetting to me that you’ve gone from having the second-best attendance record to having the second-worst in the entire program. Only Perry’s is worse than yours.”
She didn’t need to finish. They’d finally been briefed on what was happening with Perry, and everyone had been relieved it wasn’t something worse. Apparently she’d suffered a late miscarriage six months earlier, which accounted for some of her absences. Now, pregnant again, she’d been put on mandatory bed rest in her second trimester. It meant that the remaining five full-time RDs on staff needed to work extra hours to cover for Perry, which, considering the circumstances, no one minded. Brooke was doing her best to cover her extra workday each week and her extra on-call weekend, now bumped from once every six weeks to once every five, but trying to keep up with Julian’s travel schedule—to share in the excitement with him—was making it almost unbearable.
Don’t explain yourself; don’t apologize; just reassure her you’ll do better, Brooke told herself. A psychologist friend had once told her that women felt compelled to offer long explanations and excuses whenever they needed to deliver negative news, and that it was much more powerful to state it without an apology or an excuse. Brooke worked on this often, to little success.
“I’m so sorry!” she blurted before she could stop herself. “I’ve been having, um, a lot of family issues recently, and I’m doing my best to handle them. I’m really hopeful that things should calm down soon.”
Margaret raised a single eyebrow and peered intently at Brooke. “Do you think I’m not aware of what’s been happening?” she asked.
“Why, no, of course not. It’s just that there is so much—”
“One would have to live in a cave.” She smiled, and Brooke felt a little better. “But I do have a staff to run and I’m getting concerned. You’ve taken seven days off in the last six weeks—which isn’t even counting your three sick days from the first part of the year—and I’m assuming you’re here to request even more time. Am I correct?”
Brooke quickly debated her options. Deciding she had none, she merely nodded.
“When and for how long?”
“In three weeks, just the Saturday. I know I’m scheduled to work all weekend, but Rebecca is going to switch with me and I’ll take her weekend in three weeks. So it’s, uh, technically just one day.”
“Just one day.”
“Yes. It’s an important, um, family event, or I wouldn’t even ask.” She made a mental note to be even more diligent than usual about avoiding the cameras at Kristen Stewart’s birthday party in Miami, where Julian had been invited to perform four songs. When he’d balked at appearing at a young starlet’s birthday party, Leo had pleaded with him. Brooke couldn’t help but feel a little queasy for Julian; the least she could do was be there to support him.
“You didn’t bother me at all! I gave you my number so you would use it, and I’m happy you did. Makes me feel popular.” Brooke smiled.
They hung up and Brooke sent herself an e-mail reminder to look up the nutritional information for fast-food restaurants and pass it along to Kaylie. She was a few minutes late getting upstairs to the hospital break room, and only her colleague Rebecca was there when she arrived.
“What are you doing here today?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m making up a few missed shifts. Unfortunately, the trade was three shifts for a double on Sunday.”
“Ouch. Tough terms. But worth it?”
Brooke laughed ruefully. “Yeah, I think I got killed, but seeing Julian perform at Bonnaroo was really cool.” She placed her purse and her packed lunch in her locker and followed Rebecca into the hallway. “Any idea if Margaret’s in today?”
“I’m right here!” A cheerful voice trilled out behind them. Brooke’s boss was wearing a pair of black dress slacks, a light blue blouse, and black loafers, all topped by a perfectly starched and pressed lab coat that was embroidered with her name and credentials.
“Hello, Margaret,” Rebecca and Brooke said in unison before Rebecca peeled out, claiming she was late for her first patient.
“Brooke, why don’t you join me in my office for a minute? We can talk there.”
Nightmare. She should’ve remembered that Margaret almost always put in an appearance on Sunday mornings just to make sure things were running smoothly.
“O-oh, everything’s fine,” she stammered. “I, uh, I was just wondering if I was going to get to say hello to you.”
Her boss had already begun walking down the long hallway toward her office. “Come now,” she called to Brooke, who had no choice but to follow her. The woman must have sensed Brooke was about to ask for more time off.
Margaret’s office was located down a dark hallway, next to the supply closet and on the same floor as the maternity ward, which meant there was a pretty good chance the conversation would be punctuated by an errant scream or a groan. The only upside was getting to glance in the nursery as they walked by. Maybe she’d have a free second a little later to go in there and hold a baby or two. . . .
“Come right in,” Margaret said as she swung open the door and turned on the lights. “You caught me at the perfect time.”
Brooke tentatively walked in behind her and waited for her boss to clear a pile of papers off the guest seat before lowering herself into the chair.
“To what do I owe this honor?” Margaret smiled, but Brooke read between the lines. They’d always enjoyed an easy, natural relationship, but lately Brooke had begun to sense tension between them.
She forced herself to smile and prayed this wasn’t an inauspicious start to a conversation she really needed to go well. “Oh, hardly an honor, I’m sure, I just wanted to talk to you about—”
Margaret smiled. “It is a bit of an honor considering I haven’t seen much of you lately. I’m glad you’re here, because there’s something I need to discuss with you.”
Brooke took a deep breath and reminded herself to keep calm.
“Brooke, you know how fond I am of you, and it goes without saying that I’ve been extremely pleased with your performance in all the years you’ve worked here. And of course, so have your patients, as evidenced by those terrific evaluations a few months ago.”
“Thank you,” Brooke said, unsure how to respond but certain this wasn’t going somewhere good.
“Which is why it’s upsetting to me that you’ve gone from having the second-best attendance record to having the second-worst in the entire program. Only Perry’s is worse than yours.”
She didn’t need to finish. They’d finally been briefed on what was happening with Perry, and everyone had been relieved it wasn’t something worse. Apparently she’d suffered a late miscarriage six months earlier, which accounted for some of her absences. Now, pregnant again, she’d been put on mandatory bed rest in her second trimester. It meant that the remaining five full-time RDs on staff needed to work extra hours to cover for Perry, which, considering the circumstances, no one minded. Brooke was doing her best to cover her extra workday each week and her extra on-call weekend, now bumped from once every six weeks to once every five, but trying to keep up with Julian’s travel schedule—to share in the excitement with him—was making it almost unbearable.
Don’t explain yourself; don’t apologize; just reassure her you’ll do better, Brooke told herself. A psychologist friend had once told her that women felt compelled to offer long explanations and excuses whenever they needed to deliver negative news, and that it was much more powerful to state it without an apology or an excuse. Brooke worked on this often, to little success.
“I’m so sorry!” she blurted before she could stop herself. “I’ve been having, um, a lot of family issues recently, and I’m doing my best to handle them. I’m really hopeful that things should calm down soon.”
Margaret raised a single eyebrow and peered intently at Brooke. “Do you think I’m not aware of what’s been happening?” she asked.
“Why, no, of course not. It’s just that there is so much—”
“One would have to live in a cave.” She smiled, and Brooke felt a little better. “But I do have a staff to run and I’m getting concerned. You’ve taken seven days off in the last six weeks—which isn’t even counting your three sick days from the first part of the year—and I’m assuming you’re here to request even more time. Am I correct?”
Brooke quickly debated her options. Deciding she had none, she merely nodded.
“When and for how long?”
“In three weeks, just the Saturday. I know I’m scheduled to work all weekend, but Rebecca is going to switch with me and I’ll take her weekend in three weeks. So it’s, uh, technically just one day.”
“Just one day.”
“Yes. It’s an important, um, family event, or I wouldn’t even ask.” She made a mental note to be even more diligent than usual about avoiding the cameras at Kristen Stewart’s birthday party in Miami, where Julian had been invited to perform four songs. When he’d balked at appearing at a young starlet’s birthday party, Leo had pleaded with him. Brooke couldn’t help but feel a little queasy for Julian; the least she could do was be there to support him.
