Page 47 of Maxwell

“Oh, of course. But it’s not always about credentials, as you know. Dr. Lapkin had great credentials but didn’t work well in our office.”

“What made you so sure Dr. Santana would?” Jasmine bit into her sandwich and hummed her pleasure.

“Because he doesn’t need the job.”

Jasmine frowned as she finished chewing. “What do you mean he doesn’t need the job, and how does that prove he would be a good candidate to work in our office?”

“I can’t believe I never told you this, but Dr. Santana comes from a very wealthy family.”

“He does? Why is he working with us, then?”

Her father laughed. “I wondered the same thing. He’s worth millions. Tens of millions, maybe hundreds of millions. His father is Benicio Santana, a famous director/producer, actor, and businessman.”

“Never heard of him.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of his son, Dr. Santana’s brother—Ignacio Santana, the actor.”

Jasmine dropped her sandwich back onto the plate, and her mouth fell open. “The Latin heartthrob?”

Dr. Roberson chuckled softly. “One and the same. That’s not all. He has a brother who is a famous chef—can’t think of his name right now—and another brother who is a wealthy real estate developer. You should Google him and his family. A fascinating group of people, with all of his siblings successful in their own right.”

She remembered Maxwell commenting about the success of his siblings, but he’d seriously downplayed his family’s wealth, apparently. His brother was Ignacio Santana! His film Wrong had been nominated for several Oscars, including Best Picture. They had a good chance of winning after a strong showing at the Golden Globes and the lead actor picking up a best actor honor at the SAG awards.

“He really and truly doesn’t need to work.”

“Not at all. He’s not working at our facility for the money. He’s doing it because he wants to. It’s a passion project for him. He didn’t say that during the interview, but it was clear by the way he spoke about his duties and the fact that he literally does not have to do this.” Her father leaned forward. “Do you know why he couldn’t start working with us right away?”

Struck speechless by all this new information, Jasmine shook her head.

“After completing his residency, he spent six months volunteering at a free clinic through Morehouse’s Health Equity for All Lives—the H.E.A.L. initiative. A man with his credentials worked full-time at zero salary. His time and skills were given freely to families who couldn’t afford care otherwise. When I told you that getting him was quite an accomplishment, I wasn’t exaggerating. This young man is impressive. He has great character, and in the long run will be a valuable asset to our practice and the patients we serve.”

They spent the rest of their lunch discussing topics that revolved around operations, but her father had completely shocked her with the information he shared, which meant her mind was never far from what she had learned.

* * *

Later that night, home alone, Jasmine poured herself a generous glass of wine and sat on the sofa with her computer. She had barely resisted researching Maxwell and his family while at work, but she’d had plenty to do and put off her digging until she came home.

There was a lot of information available, and what she uncovered was fascinating. First of all, Maxwell’s father was a handsome older man. He was the reason the phrase “movie-star good looks” had become part of the English lexicon. Maxwell’s mother was a petite, attractive, dark-skinned woman. She showed up in a few photos where she and her famous husband had attended events together, and Jasmine could see how both of them had contributed to Maxwell’s features.

She saw pictures of Maxwell’s sisters online—Audra and Monica—both of whom had strong social media presences. Monica had gotten married in the past year, and interestingly enough, her husband owned the lounge where Jasmine and Maxwell had met.

“Wow,” she murmured.

In addition to his famous actor brother, Maxwell’s brother Thiago was the new CEO of Santana International, while his brother, Bruno, was a world-renowned chef and restaurateur.

“Sheesh,” Jasmine muttered as she skimmed an article about his brother, Ethan. He was the eldest and the head of Connor International Industries, the corporation building Horizon, a huge mixed-use community in southeast Atlanta.

No wonder he’d looked amused when she mentioned Nicholas could help him with his finances. If he wanted help, he could ask the successful people in his family.

There wasn’t as much information on Maxwell as there was about his siblings. Probably because he was younger and had chosen a more private path in life. She saw a much younger version of him in a picture with his famous father and one with his even more famous actor brother on the red carpet.

He did have an Instagram account, though he rarely posted. The last time he posted was months ago after he finished his residency. There was a photo of him and a diverse group of five other doctors in front of the children’s hospital, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders and a nostalgic caption conveying how much they had learned and would miss each other as they went their separate ways.

When Jasmine finally caught herself, it was almost ten o’clock at night. She had spent more than three hours reading up on Maxwell and his family! Embarrassed, she snapped the laptop shut. Thank goodness no one was there to witness her obsession.

Stifling a yawn, she padded into the kitchen, rinsed out her empty wine glass, and turned it down in the dishwasher. By the time she was comfortably in bed with the covers up to her chin and her pillows all around her, the apartment was starkly quiet against the backdrop of her loud thoughts.

Staring up at the ceiling in the dark, she knew one thing for certain: Her father was right. Maxwell Santana did not need to work at their practice.