NYC Angels: The Wallflower's Secret

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by Susan Carlisle


  “You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I like that Southern drawl.”

  The grin on his lips and the dimples it brought to his cheeks made him the sexiest man she’d ever seen.

  “But you talk so slowly that I forget what you said at the beginning of the sentence by the time you get to the end of it.”

  She thrust her chin out and looked at him hard. “Are you making fun of me?”

  The laugh lines around his eyes grew more prominent. “I would never do that.”

  Lucy couldn’t help but return his teasing smile. Something she hadn’t done in a long time. It felt good to have some humor in her life again.

  A nurse came down the hall. “You first patient is in exam two, Dr. O’Doherty.”

  Ryan took the patient chart from the nurse and Lucy followed him. The man could turn on the charm when he chose. She’d have to watch out or he might use it against her.

  Lucy joined him during each examination. All the patients were there for sixth-week post-op visits and would be released from Ryan’s care after this clinical appointment. Neither he nor she would see them again unless the patients required additional surgery. Maybe that was why Ryan didn’t invest more effort into getting to know the families. They weren’t normally long-term patients for him.

  “This is the last patient,” Ryan told her as he pulled the chart out of the holder on the door. “Amanda Marcella. Three years old. “

  He tapped lightly on the door then entered. Lucy followed and he introduced her. “So, how’s Amanda doing?” he asked the far-too-young mother.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  Lucy cringed. If she had a child who was sick she wouldn’t be treating the child’s heath so nonchalantly.

  The little girl had an external shunt located on the right side of her head. Ryan removed the bandages. He really had a tender way about him.

  “This shunt isn’t positioned correctly. The site needs to be checked and rebandaged. I’ll show you how I want it done,” he announced, engrossed in what he was doing.

  “I don’t like doing that sort of thing. My boyfriend has to do it,” the mother said.

  Ryan looked up. “This isn’t something that you have a choice about. You have to take responsibility for your child.”

  He didn’t wait for the mother to respond before he turned and left the room.

  At the girl’s stricken face, Lucy stepped toward her. “Do you have any one else who can help you?”

  The girl shook her head slowly, her eyes filling with tears. “My parents kicked me out when I got pregnant with Amanda. I try to do what I can but I’m no good at being a nurse.”

  Ryan returned with a nurse in tow. She carried a disposable suture kit. “I’m going to put in a couple of stitches to secure the shunt. It’ll still have to be bandaged and cleaned regularly.” He looked at the mother to punctuate his point.

  The mother’s eyes grew larger and she screwed up her face with displeasure. Couldn’t Ryan tell he was scaring the girl? If he did notice, why didn’t he care?

  “Why don’t we wait outside while Dr. O’Doherty is working?” Lucy suggested. The mother nodded and Lucy led her out into the hall.

  “I know Dr. O’Doherty wants me to see about Amanda’s head but I just can’t. It makes me so sad to look at it.”

  Minutes later Ryan opened the door, letting them know that he was finished. Lucy and the mother returned to the room. Ryan looked at the mother and said, “The nurse will show you how to bandage the site. You’ll need to bring Amanda back again next week. I’ll expect to see that the wound has been cared for.”

  The girl mumbled, “Okay…” and took her whimpering child from the nurse.

  Ryan left and Lucy gave the girl’s shoulder a reassuring pat and joined him.

  “I hate it when I perform surgery and the patient is improving but the parents won’t take care of the child,” Ryan said through clenched teeth, softly enough not to sound unprofessional. Lucy had no doubt that he wished he could say it loud enough that not only the mother could hear but everyone else as well.

  “Can we go to an empty exam room and talk a sec?” Lucy asked.

  He gave her a frustrated look but nodded his assent.

  When they were in the room with the door closed behind them, she turned to him and said, “Ryan, you can’t be so hard on that mother. She’s little more than a child herself and terrified. She has no help at home and a sick child to care for.”

  “She has a duty to her child. She has to see that her child gets the care she needs.”

  “Her grief is so great she can’t stand to look at her baby, it scares her,” Lucy flung back. “Haven’t you ever been in a spot where you thought you couldn’t handle it?”

  He went pale for a second but soon recovered. Still, she’d seen it. His reaction to the mother had been over the top—was his cool relationship with his patient’s parents masking something more?

  “What do you suggest?” he asked in a tight voice.

  “I don’t think forcing the girl to do the wound care is the answer. She needs help. Which I will see about getting her. Until then, if you would write an order for home health a couple of times a week, I think it would be best for her and the child.”

  She was shocked when a slight grin formed on his lips. “I’m starting to feel manipulated but I think you’re right this time. I’ll write the order.” Taking the chart he held, he turned and left the room.

  She’d eased one aspect of the girl’s issues but she’d hit a nerve in Ryan’s. Why?

  The knock on her office door told her Ryan stood on the other side. Even the rap of his hand was distinctive. Her officemates had gone home long ago. She might have left sooner if she’d had more to go home to. Instead, she was busy trying to see what services were available to Amanda Marcella. Going to the door, she opened it.

  “Hi, I was just wondering if you might have dinner with me tonight. Let me say thanks for helping out this afternoon and apologize for making you feel less than welcome on your first day.” He grinned.

  Ryan could slay dragons and carry off a princess’ heart with that movement of his lips.

  “Just doing my job. No thanks necessary. I appreciate the invitation but I think I’d better just go home.” Why in the world wasn’t she accepting an opportunity to go out with a good-looking, smart man? Because she could be one of those slayed by his grin. Because it couldn’t go anywhere. But why did it have to?

  “You don’t think you can take a few minutes to keep a hard-working colleague company while he eats?” His grin widened.

  She was starting to fall for his charm. “I guess I could for a few minutes. I am hungry. But do you mind if I pick the place?”

  “Sure. Just so long as it’s not a beans-and-sprouts place. I want meat and cheese and more meat.”

  Lucy smiled. Something she was doing more often when he was around. It felt good. “There’s meat, along with great salads.”

  “Perfect. Let’s go.”

  He stepped through the doorway and waited for her in the hall. For heaven’s sake, what was she doing? She had no business going to dinner with Ryan O’Doherty. He was far too likeable. And he made her far too angry sometimes. She secured her scarf around her neck and pulled on her coat. Stepping into the hall, she pulled the door closed behind her and prepared to lock it.

  Ryan was no longer there. It was late enough that most of the patients were in bed for the night. One lone mother spoke softly to her child and Lucy’s heart constricted. She’d thought distance would ease her feelings about Emily but with each baby she saw there was a fresh stab of pain. Would it ever go away?

  She looked around and found Ryan standing in front of the nurses’ station, talking to one of the staff. The nurse was snickering. He looked in her direction and grinned.

  His smile pushed the heartache away. She needed her mental faculties just to deal with him. The man had the ability to turn that charm on and off at will. All the nurses seemed to go ca
lf-eyed whenever he walked down the hall. More than one had requested to care for his patients in order to have his attention for a few minutes.

  That laughter and fun-loving attitude covered the seriousness of his job and the caring heart that she only glimpsed when he was dealing with the children. She’d seen him displeased and she was beginning to think few saw the emotional side of him. That he’d let it slip when she’d been around was something to ponder.

  Ryan smiled and started toward her. The nurse saw Lucy and returned to her duties. When she reached Ryan he said, “I just got a page. I need to stop by the nursery for a few minutes to check on a child, if you don’t mind.”

  No, she couldn’t do that. It would kill her to see the babies. She would cry. “Um, why don’t I just meet you in the lobby?”

  “I would’ve thought you might want to meet the family, if they are there.”

  “I’ll just wait and see if you are assigned the case.”

  He gave her a quizzical look. “Okay. I’ll see you in the lobby as soon as I can.”

  Lucy breathed a sigh of relief as Ryan walked off. She just wasn’t ready to face the nursery.

  In the taxi, Ryan grinned when Lucy had to give the address of the restaurant for a second time. The cab driver didn’t quite understand her sweet Southern drawl. He himself liked it, a lot. Her slower, softer accent was soothing. He especially liked it when she said his name.

  Lucy had a way about her that relaxed him, and others as well. She wasn’t authoritarian when she spoke but people listened to her. Plus her manner implied that everything would be all right given time. He’d seen it first hand when she talked to his patients’ families. She’d given of herself. At one time, he’d done that more freely but now he had nothing left.

  If he ever discovered he had something to give, he hoped someone like Lucy was around to share it with. But now wasn’t the time. He’d never confided in anyone from work and he wouldn’t be starting now, no matter how tempting it might be.

  Lucy sat beside him in the back seat, staring out the window. He wasn’t sure if she was avoiding looking at him or was just engrossed in the lights of the “city that never sleeps”.

  “Have you been to New York before?”

  “Once, when I was a kid. With my parents. I don’t remember much about it, though.” The wistful tone in her voice made him think that it hadn’t necessarily been a happy memory.

  “I bet you never thought you’d be living here.”

  She glanced at him. “No, never,” she said, before turning back to the window. “And with your accent, I’d guess you’ve never lived anywhere but here.”

  “Brooklyn boy, born and raised,” he said proudly.

  “So that’s why you have the baseball picture in your office.”

  “Yeah. I’m a big Yankees fan. Do you keep up with baseball?”

  “If you live in Atlanta you have to follow the Braves. My brother-in-law gets season tickets so I’ve gone to a few games.”

  “I have season tickets to the Yankees. Maybe you’d like to go to a game some time?” He shifted uncomfortably. What in the world was he doing, inviting her out to a game? That sounded too much like a date.

  The taxi pulled up at the curb.

  “Volpentesta’s. That’s some of the best pizza pie in the city. For someone who has been in the city no longer than you have, you sure know where to get a good meal.”

  Lucy smiled as she climbed out of the taxi. When she offered her share of the taxi fare he said, “It’s on me. My idea for the pizza.”

  She didn’t fight him, just waited on the brick sidewalk gone wavy with age. She tensed a second when he lightly touched the curve of her back but she eased just as quickly. As they came to the door of the restaurant, he reached around her to open it.

  “Someone taught you good manners. That’s the second time you’ve opened a door for me.”

  The dull pain that he carried in his chest sharpened for a second. “My father was very old school. He would say, ‘Ryan, my boy, you treat a woman like you want your sisters to be treated. It’s the O’Doherty way.’”

  “Kind of got off track when you first met me, didn’t you?”

  “Hey, I showed you up to the floor.”

  “Yeah, but you would’ve liked to drop me down the elevator shaft.”

  “Was I that bad?”

  She nodded.

  “Then I’ll try to make up for it over dinner, okay?”

  She smiled. “I’ve really gotten over it, so don’t let it worry you.”

  A man who was almost as round as he was tall approached them, his hands outstretched. He asked with a strong Italian accent, “Miss Lucy, how are you today?”

  Her smiled reached her eyes. Ryan felt a hot stab of jealousy. What would it take to have her smile at him like that? He wasn’t going to analyze that thought.

  “Mr. Volpentesta, I’m doing fine. We would like a table.”

  “Anything for you, my dear.”

  Ryan gave her a quizzical look. The wait even on weeknights for a table at Volpentesta’s was long and she’d just waltzed in without a reservation.

  The restaurant was an authentic Italian bistro right down to the red checked cloths and the candle on the table. The room was dark enough to make for a pleasing ambiance but not so dim that he couldn’t appreciate Lucy’s incredibly expressive face.

  She wore little make-up. On occasion he’d noticed that she’d applied a gloss to her lips that made them dewy looking. Her hair was always contained by a ribbon or clip or was braided. More than once he’d pictured what it might look like free. She was unique. He’d give her that.

  It had been a long time since he’d found a woman so interesting. She reminded him of Irish coffee. Sweet, fresh cream on top with a stout bite beneath. What kind of magic was this woman conjuring over him?

  “Come this way, my dear.” Mr. Volpentesta led them to a table for two in a far corner of the room.

  “How do you know him?” Ryan said close to her ear.

  “I live upstairs.” She turned and followed the man again.

  “Good choice,” he said, more to himself than her when they were given a cozy spot. What he’d had in mind had been more of a friendly meal than a lovers’ evening. He looked around the room but not finding a better option he accepted his fate. He held her chair out and waited until Lucy was settled before he sat.

  “Your father has left nothing out.” She spread her napkin in her lap.

  “He was a thorough man.”

  “Was?”

  Left no choice, he said, “He died.” He couldn’t keep the heartache out of his voice.

  At her stricken and pitying look, he wished he’d lied. She placed a hand on his forearm and gave him an earnest look. “I’m sorry.”

  Her touch and concern diminished his feeling of loss for a moment. For the first time he actually felt comforted by another human being. Why was it that this Southern belle touched more than just his arm? “I’m doing fine.”

  Mercifully, the waiter came to take their order and bought them a bottle of house wine. Ryan wasn’t surprised when Lucy ordered a salad. When the waiter left he leaned forward and said, “Do you have any idea on how many levels of wrong it is to order a salad in a place like this?”

  “I’m just not that hungry.”

  He gave her a speculative look. “If I were to guess, you haven’t been eating like you should.”

  She shrugged and toyed with her silverware.

  “Not going to comment on that one?”

  “No,” she said with less zeal than she had earlier, confirming he’d been correct.

  He fished for something to keep the conversation going that wasn’t too personal. He didn’t think she’d answer more questions if they were. “So, did you grow up in Atlanta?” That wasn’t as impersonal as he would’ve liked but he wanted to know more about her.

  “Sort of, but mostly at a boarding school in northeast Georgia.”

  He cocked his hea
d in question.

  “My parents divorced. It was easier to send Alexis and me off than to take care of us.”

  His mother had died when he’d been young. Before his father had gotten too sick he’d been there to take care of Ryan and his sisters. They had never doubted that they were wanted and loved. “Alexis?”

  “My twin sister.”

  “So you’re a twin. Interesting. I bet you’re close. My father said more than once that ‘Family’s everything. Without family you have nothing.’”

  Clouds formed in her eyes. “I guess for some that’s true,” she said, sounding more resigned than wistful.

  But not for her? “I shouldn’t have said that.” He took a swallow of his wine. The melancholy in her voice made him wish he’d not quoted his father.

  “Alexis and I had each other. We were our own family…” She let the words trail off.

  He had to find another subject. “You know, it turns out we’re a better team than I anticipated.”

  “Even as slowly as I speak, I’m still worthwhile.” She smirked.

  Despite her making fun of him, he enjoyed her quick mind. “Truthfully, I like your accent. Makes me think of lazy, hot days and ice-cold drinks.”

  She blinked then her eyelids fluttered down. “Now you’re embarrassing me.” She looked at him. “You know something about me. How about telling me about you?”

  “Brooklyn, and more Brooklyn. Med school NYU, intern Angel’s, Angel’s today.”

  “I see. The source of your clipped dialect, with a hint of Irish burr occasionally.”

  “Guilty. My father was second-generation Irish. My accent isn’t anywhere near as strong as his was.”

  Was. He hated that word. Every time he said it, it just reaffirmed that his father was gone.

  Their meals arrived. He inhaled the smell of the steaming pie. “This is going to taste wonderful.” He glanced up as he bit into a slice of pizza. Lucy watched him. She looked down at her salad. “What?”

 

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