Braden didn’t answer. His mind was racing ahead to the implications of his mother’s enrollment in the study.
“If she doesn’t suffer from migraines, then why else would she have been given this medicine?”
That was a million-dollar question, indeed. Braden was anxious to get off the phone and find out, but he wasn’t going to tell Lana that.
Lana continued probing. “Your parents were friends with Dr. Montgomery. Would he have been using this study drug to treat your mother for some other reason? What other conditions might it treat?”
Leave it to Lana to figure out the implications so quickly. Braden was burning with curiosity himself. “I’ll retrieve the records from your office tomorrow.”
“I thought you were in New York.”
“My plans changed. I’ll be there tomorrow. Eight o’clock.”
Braden disconnected the call and turned to his mother. She was quick on the trigger. “Was that Lana Donnoli? Are you two speaking again?”
“First things first, Mom. What kind of pills did Dr. Montgomery give you, and why?”
His mother used her hand to wave his question away, making a shooing motion as if his question were an annoying fly that had gotten in between them when she wanted to talk about something else. “Lana Donnoli, after all these years. I’m happy to hear you two have found each other again.”
“Lana and I haven’t found anything. We’re only speaking out of necessity. I need to know if Dr. Montgomery gave you any pills.”
“Out of necessity? What on earth does that mean?”
“It’s business,” he said firmly. “Let’s not get distracted from the subject.”
“Lana Donnoli is the subject. Watch your tone, young man.”
That did make Braden pause. He was the president of PLI. He set the agendas. If he said the subject was Dr. Montgomery, then that was the subject. One thousand employees of PLI would agree. But his mother?
Braden sighed and let himself lean against the sink. “Dr. Montgomery might have given you a medicine that my company was studying. As my mother, you aren’t eligible to be in the study at all. This is serious. Breaches in study protocol can be brought to the FDA’s attention.”
“By whom? I haven’t told a soul.”
“There are more people involved. Lana, for one.”
“Lana wouldn’t tattle on you.”
“It’s not tattling. This isn’t school. This is business. If Lana wanted to use it as a weapon against me—”
“Lana has always been crazy about you. She would do no such thing.”
Braden’s phone was on the third ring. He answered it. “MacDowell.”
“Yes, I know. You hung up on me, Braden.”
Lana sounded angry. Her emotions were engaged, so Braden should have the upper hand. There was, however, nothing to negotiate, certainly nothing that needed to be discussed while his mother glared at him.
“I didn’t hang up on you. We’d concluded our business and we’ll meet tomorrow.” He emphasized the word business for his mother’s benefit. Dang, but she could still give him a look that made him want to squirm. He had an angry woman standing in front of him and an angry woman speaking in his ear. The president of PLI was not quite in control of the situation, and he knew it.
“Braden, I cannot turn any records over to you at eight in the morning.”
“They aren’t your records. They belong to PLI.”
“I’m well aware that your company owns the data.”
“Then you’ll return it upon demand. That’s part of every contract.”
“You can demand all you like, but that won’t make my office door magically unlock at eight o’clock. My assistant won’t be in yet, and she’s the only one who knows where everything is, including the door’s key. I’ve only been in town for a day.”
That was an easy problem to solve. He couldn’t believe Lana needed instructions. “Tell her to come in early.”
He hung up, then rubbed his forehead, mostly to break eye contact with his mother.
“That was Lana again?” she asked. “Be nice. I told you that girl was crazy about you.”
“That girl is not crazy about me. That girl is only speaking to me because she is the head of research at West Central.”
“Since when?”
“Since this morning, apparently. I pulled a million dollars of funding from her today. A million dollars can make people desperate, Mom, and if she wanted to create problems for me with the FDA, she could.”
“She won’t.”
“I’m glad you have such confidence in my ex-fiancée.”
His mother narrowed her eyes.
He hoped he looked innocent. No, Ma, I wasn’t being a smart aleck. Honest.
Braden tried again. “Even if Lana keeps your involvement a secret to the grave, I still need to know why you were being given a migraine medicine.”
“I don’t get migraines.”
“Exactly. The salient question is, what do you get that Dr. Montgomery was trying to treat?”
“I know you are a doctor, but I’ll tell you what I’ve told your brothers. You are not my doctor.”
Despite the topic, his mother was smiling—or rather, trying not to smile. The corners of her mouth were twitching.
Braden’s bafflement warred with impatience. “What is amusing you? This is serious.”
“If you say so, son. Lana Donnoli is back in town, and you want to bring a guest out here for Valentine’s weekend.”
“Not Lana.” Good God, not Lana. Not that heartbreak. His mother had it all wrong.
“Grab a dish towel.” She started scrubbing the pan she’d used to make his chicken-fried steak. “Better yet, go on back to town and see your Lana.”
“It’s business. She can wait until morning.”
She only smiled. “No son of mine would ever be so rude to a lady over the phone.”
“I wasn’t rude. I was businesslike.”
“I’m sorry to spoil your surprise, but I can put two and two together. Lana calls, and you leave the room. When I follow, you pretend to be angry with her and hang up. Tonight, you can’t stay at the ranch, because you are sleeping at the Four Seasons. Here, give me that dish towel and go on to your hotel.”
“No, that isn’t—”
The mother who was supposedly so frail put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a shove toward the door. “I’m delighted that you and Lana are back together. Valentine’s will be wonderful. You don’t have to tell her I figured it out. I’ll act surprised.”
“You’ll be surprised because Lana Donnoli is not the woman I’m planning on marrying.”
She escorted him all the way to the front door, forcing him out of his own childhood home in the gentlest way possible. “Marriage? You’re going to announce a marriage? Sweetheart, that is so romantic. Now go. Lana’s waiting, and I can’t stand to listen to another of these fake fights on your phone.”
Braden realized his phone was ringing. He checked the screen. It was indeed Lana. He let it ring. She could chat with his assistant this time.
“Mom, don’t