Ivey snorted. She guessed she was supposed to feel sorry for him. Well she didn’t. “This isn’t going to happen. You and I can’t work together. It’s asking too much.”
She thought she could see Jeff’s jaw tighten, nearly imperceptibly. A chink in his armor. “I’m fine with it. We’re both adults and professionals.”
Except that right now she didn’t feel much like an adult, because somehow Jeff made her feel like a sixteen-year-old again.
“You’re right. If you can handle it, so can I.”
“Good.” His pager went off. He glanced at it and then stood. “Let’s reconvene again tomorrow?”
“What time?” Ivey asked, as he moved towards the door.
“You pick the time. I pretty much live here.”
“Okay. How about nine?”
“Fine.” He walked out without a backwards glance.
Ivey swallowed. No big deal. She could handle this unfortunate turn of events.
But it didn’t help that Jeff looked better, somehow, than she’d remembered. He’d grown into a man, cords of muscles in his forearms. Not tall and lanky anymore. Now his muscles had muscles. His dark brown hair was no longer long and unruly but closed cropped. Although some things never changed—he still had the same panty-melting gaze in his whiskey-brown eyes.
Those eyes had once regarded her with desire and tenderness, but now they only reminded her that they were virtually strangers. No matter. He might have a stare to melt glaciers in the Arctic, but it wasn’t going to have any effect on her. She wouldn’t let it.
2
Jeff ambled down the corridors of St. Vincent’s, dodging orderlies and nurses on his way to the ER, acting like it was any other shift. Pretending he hadn’t coaxed his heart back down into his chest cavity where it belonged. Asked it to please resume its regular rhythm.
He worked his ass off for this hospital, and when some lofty admin-higher-up had issued the command that he would represent the doctors on the subcommittee, he’d cringed and hoped for the best. Seemed to be all he did these days.
But then he’d walked into the room and seen Ivey, and just like that, it was five years ago again, and he’d come back home on break from medical school to find she’d left town to meet up with some idiot she met on a dating service.
He’d done his best to pretend that she wasn’t even more beautiful than he remembered, and he had a pretty good memory. A sultry version of Snow White, with her espresso-colored hair and blue eyes. He found himself wondering if she’d wound up with the dating service guy. Maybe she’d married, and had kids with that loser. Kids that were supposed to be Jeff’s.
Hopefully he wouldn’t run into the man, because Jeff wasn’t sure he could hold back the resentment he felt towards someone who had romanced his girl with a freaking computer while he’d been away at medical school.
Not that he should give a damn.
Dr. Stewart met him in the elevator, and hopped on at the last minute. “I heard you got put on the subcommittee.”
“Don’t know how that happened. I’d like to sleep sometime.”
“Interesting. So you don’t know. Well apparently one of the benefactors behind the women’s center insisted that it be you. Why do you think that is?” Stewart eyed him with suspicion.
“Just lucky, I guess.”
“I can count on you to let me know what kind of progress you’re making?” Stewart was the head of obstetrics and had his own agenda when it came to the hiring of midwives on staff.
Come to think of it, they’d likely picked Jeff because he had no skin in the game. And that had been true until he’d seen Ivey. Now he didn’t even know what to think. Probably because he’d been on his feet for twenty-four hours. Thinking had become difficult, and sleep a distant but fond memory. Fortunately his shift was at an end.
“I’ll let you know.” Jeff stepped off the elevator and onto the ER floor.
“There you are,” Donna, the ER nurse, said. “I’ve got Frank in bay two.”
He stopped moving, not an easy thing to do on the ER floor. “Again? That’s the second time this week.”
“You know Frank,” Donna said from behind the nurse’s desk. “You’re his favorite. But don’t worry, Dr. Lewis has already seen him. Frank wants to say hi.”
“After this, I’m going home. If I can remember where that is.” Jeff made his way to the bay and opened the curtain. “Hello, Frank. What’s it been, three days? You doing okay?”
“That depends on whether you think oxygen is a good or a bad thing.” Frank sat up straighter on the cot.
“It’s a good thing, and you know it.” Jeff checked Frank’s vital signs. As usual, Frank was the healthiest elderly man he’d seen in his ER. But the man insisted he had a heart problem and a breathing issue. And on Fridays, a skin condition.
“That’s what I thought. So when I can’t breathe, that’s a problem.”
“You breathe fine, and I think I’ve proven it.” Jeff had tested his oxygen levels countless of times.
Frank coughed. “You should check my heart this time.”
“What’s wrong with your heart this week?” His vital signs showed a steady and regular heart rate, better than Jeff’s had been a few minutes ago. The EKG looked good.
“I was sitting down watching cable television earlier, and suddenly my heart rate shot up into the stratosphere. I swear it must have been two hundred.”
“Two hundred?” That would be a concern if it were true, but Frank’s heart had never gone over ninety when he’d been in the ER. “What makes you think it was that much?”
“I don’t know for sure, but when the young lady took her top off I remember thinking, ‘For the love of Pete, those can’t be real,’ and that’s when my heart started to gallop like a bunch of horses off to the races. The world is a strange place, Doc.”
Jeff would have laughed, but he didn’t have one in him today. “All right, Frank. Maybe stay away from the porn channels.”
“You think that’s it? Can I get a prescription?”
“You don’t need a prescription, you need advice. Here, I’ll write it on my pad if that makes you feel any better.” He scribbled instructions to avoid porn, and tore it off. “Here you go. Have you seen your regular doctor? Last time you were here I asked you to make an appointment for follow-up.”
“Nah, that doctor reminds me of a toddler. I’m afraid to let him touch me. Where did he get his diploma? The Romper Room?”
Jeff sighed. “Frank, there’s only so much I can do for you here.”
“You talk to me, and that’s more than anyone else does.”
Jeff faced Frank and used his official doctor voice. “Make an appointment with your regular doctor.”
“All right, Doc. I’ll try to get in to see him. But I’ll be back if it doesn’t work. Or if I get the rash back.”
“And I’ll probably be here.”
“Right. Where else would you be?”
As he undressed in the locker room, he thought about the fact that Ivey knew where he’d originally been accepted for residency. But if she’d been keeping tabs on him—which he found . . . interesting—she’d missed an update on the past year.
When news got around to his family that he’d been recommended for a resident position at St. Vincent’s, they’d waged a campaign for his return to Starlight Hill. Granted, he hadn’t been back for much more than a short visit in the past few years, but his niece and nephew Becky and Liam were getting older, and his sister Ali wanted their only uncle around more often. Little did she know someone would have to be injured to see much of him.
He supposed it made sense that Ivey was back for a visit, but applying for this job meant she wanted to stay. Maybe things hadn’t worked out with Computer Guy. Or maybe they’d worked out great, and for all he knew they’d moved their family to the best small town in Napa Valley to raise a family.
He didn’t know and neither should he care. All he wanted now, besides a few hours of uninterrup
ted sleep, was to get through this punishing residency and secure his future. He hadn’t been through eight years of school to give up now, even if at times he wondered if he was doing any good at all.
At St. Vincent’s he’d become accustomed to the regulars, Frank being one of them. There was also the usual quirky small-town mix he’d come to expect——people he’d literally grown up around, like Ed, the accident-prone owner of the hardware store in town; the occasional migrant worker who’d met with the wrong end of a shovel; Marci, the hypochondriac; Eleanor, the pack-a-day smoker who insisted that he “do something” about her diabetes but refused to quit smoking or watch her diet; and the occasional wayward teen with alcohol poisoning.
Frank concerned him the most. It didn’t take a psychiatric consult to see that the man was lonely. Jeff wasn’t supposed to concern himself with how his patients did after they walked out the doors of the ER, once he’d pronounced they weren’t in imminent danger of death. But he couldn’t help being protective of Frank, who lived in assisted living and took too many trips to the ER.
Sooner or later, Jeff would need to get to the bottom of it.
Ivey unlocked the door to Aunt Lucy’s condo with shaking hands, closed it quickly, and leaned against it as though she could barricade herself inside from the rest of the world. The world in which Jeff lived in Starlight Hill again, breathing and eating and sleeping and Lord only knew what else.
And still looking too good.
One thought immediately sprung to mind: I’m going to have to tell him.
“What on earth?” Aunt Lucy stared from the couch where she lay splayed among magazine issues of People. “I saw a girl with the same expression you have on your face right now, but she was running through the woods from a madman who had an ax.”
“I thought I told you not to watch those kinds of movies.” Ivey walked to the TV and shut it off. She was the only one who could handle crime shows, and Aunt Lucy needed to stick to a steady diet of romantic comedies.
“Well thank goodness you’re back. It itches again.” Lucy shoved a pencil deep into the cast that covered her from knee to toe, thrust it up and down, grimaced for several seconds, and then sighed.
Ivey winced. “I don’t think you should put a pencil down there.”
“When you break your leg, you can talk. Lordy, when I get this cast off next week, I might kiss Dr. Stein.”
“Please don’t.” Hadn’t Ivey endured enough embarrassment when Lucy asked the doctor how a woman could have sex with a cast on her leg, and if he could recommend what position might work best?
“I’m kidding. He’s not my type.”
Not at all. Unfortunately he was at least thirty years older than her type, which lately tended towards thirty-something unemployed men. Not a bad thing, except for the fact that her aunt was fifty-eight.
The problem was that Aunt Lucy’s priorities had changed when she’d won the California lottery ten years ago, and now she seemed determined to suck the marrow right out of life.
When she’d phoned about the broken leg she’d suffered skiing in Vail on the constant vacation she called her life, Ivey rushed back from Los Angeles to help. Aunt Lucy had once helped Ivey during a difficult time, and at least now she could pay back her kindness by tending to her every need. Even if every one of those needs was getting on Ivey’s last nerve.
“How did it go at the hospital? Did you get the job?”
“No. I’ve been put on a subcommittee with one other doctor. Together we’re supposed to come up with a recommendation for the board next month.” Ivey grabbed a soda from the fridge and held it for a second against her flushed cheeks. Then she plopped down on the couch next to Lucy.
“A recommendation for what?”
“Whether they should even hire midwives for the women’s center. I guess some of the doctors have objections.”
“Oh they do, do they? Well la-di-da. So who is this doctor you’re going to be working with?”
“Jeff Garner,” Ivey said flatly, hoping she’d successfully removed every ounce of emotion from her voice.
Aunt Lucy’s eyebrows went up to her forehead, and that was hard to do with all the Botox. “Oh. Oh, dear.”
“Yeah.”
Aunt Lucy fanned herself with the latest edition of her movie star magazine, and a picture of a smiling Brad Pitt and his arsenal of children waved in Ivey’s direction. “It’s for the best. Time you told him everything.”
“No! It’s not.”
“He has a right to know.” Aunt Lucy had always believed that, but she’d supported Ivey’s decision.
“What do you think I should tell him? Hey, Jeff, five years ago when I left town I was pregnant with your baby. Thought you should know. So have a great day.”
“I never said it would be easy.”
“I don’t need to make enemies at the hospital, and he’ll hate me.”
“Or it will finally make sense to him that you took up with someone on the Internet and left town like you had something to hide. I wish you’d come up with a better story than that one. Everyone in town talked about you for weeks. Took sides and made me crazy. What a ditzy move that was.”
Ivey threw her hands up in the air. “Why is it so crazy to believe I met someone on an online dating service? Hundreds of millions of people have found love there, or so the commercials say. And that’s where I met Joe.”
“Joe? I thought the name you made up was John.”
“Don’t you think I can remember the name of my own fake boyfriend? It was Joe. I’ve always liked that name. Joe’s always a good guy. You can count on Joe.”
Aunt Lucy shook her head. “You better make sure you keep that name straight if you want to keep up this ruse.”
“I don’t need to talk about Fake Joe. It didn’t work out.”
“If Jeff’s like most men, the last thing he’ll want to do is talk about your ex-boyfriends. Fake or otherwise.”
“I’m not going to talk to him.”
“How will you communicate? Sign language?”
“No. I’m going to get off this subcommittee.” Ivey stretched her legs out on the couch. “It’s the only way, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
No way would Lillian make her do this. She’d be there bright and early tomorrow morning and explain everything. Maybe even throw in a little tear or two. Those weren’t all that hard to call up when she thought about the past and how badly she’d screwed everything up.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. If you want this job, fight for it. Don’t let him chase you out of town again.”
“He didn’t chase me out of town. I went willingly.”
“Because you didn’t want to be a glitch in his schedule. Well, Missy, it took two to make that baby.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.” As it so happened, she had a distinct memory of the event, and she definitely hadn’t been alone. Not that she wanted that image in her head right now.
But Aunt Lucy did have a point. She wasn’t going to go anywhere, not this time. If it would be difficult for Jeff to have her stay in town, too bad. She was not going to accommodate him anymore.
“I want the job. It’s not that. I only want off the subcommittee.”
“Fine. But what’s he going to think about that?”
“You know what? I don’t care.”
With a little more effort, Ivey might be able to convince herself of that.
3
Eight hours of fitful sleep were not enough, especially when Ivey had invaded half of Jeff’s dreams, but they’d have to do.
Still, when he opened the door to the conference room at precisely nine o’clock the next morning, he’d half convinced himself that yesterday had been a nightmare. He wasn’t really going to be on this subcommittee with his ex-girlfriend-slash-first-love.
But no, she was here. Not a figment of his imagination. He rubbed an eye with the back of his hand, more exhausted than disbelieving.
“What’s the mat
ter? Didn’t sleep well last night?” Ivey looked up at him from her seat at the long conference table.
“Something like that.”
“None of this bothers me, in case you were wondering. I slept like a baby.”
“You always did. More like the dead, actually.” He took a seat. “You shouldn’t see me as the enemy. I’m the sucker that got appointed to this. I honestly don’t care what happens with the women’s center. They could hire a fleet of clowns and I wouldn’t care.”
Ivey eyed him with the Death Stare. “Are you comparing midwives to clowns?”
Yeah. He should have thought that off-the-cuff comment through a bit better. Blame it on the lack of caffeine, because there wasn’t enough in the state to keep him firing on all cylinders.
“No. I’ve always liked clowns.” Sue him. He couldn’t resist.
Ivey stood. Today she wore a white ruffled top that went up to her neck, and her long hair in a tight bun. If it wasn’t for the pencil skirt, she’d look like a prairie woman. And what was up with that?
“Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to talk to Lillian. I’m going to tell her I can’t do this, and I want you there when I do it.”
“What can I say? I’m honored.” He held the door open, and followed her out, trying like hell not to check out her ass while he did. Epic fail. Dammit, even dressed like Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman she managed to arouse him.
Which would mean he’d stepped into a time machine, because that shouldn’t be happening.
Usually the hospital smelled like antiseptic and on a bad day in the ER like blood, but at the moment all he could smell was Ivey. Standing near her in the elevator, he swore he could smell the soft scent of vanilla. Did she still wear the same body spray he’d bought her years ago? The one that tasted as good on her as it smelled?
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he finally said after a few more minutes of silence. Maybe they could at least put up the appearance of friendship.
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