Socialite...or Nurse in a Million?

by Molly Evans

  Looking at Vicky, he realized she was very observant and a little too insightful for his tastes at the moment. He’d do well to watch where those blue eyes roamed. A long time ago he might have been susceptible to their allure, but not now. For the sake of his career and community, his focus had to stay right where it was. No distractions allowed. Not even one as tempting as Victoria Sterling-Thorne. Not that he had any business associating with someone from her walk of life anyway. Worlds apart, though they lived only miles apart.

  “My brother owns his own business, so I know a little about it. All work and no play usually makes people very unhappy.”

  He thought of his family and the Sunday dinners, baptisms, weddings and other gatherings that he missed on a regular basis. He had been close to his family, but the kind of work he had dedicated himself to came at a price. Unfortunately, his family paid it for him. He had so much to make up for, he knew he’d never live long enough to make things right with them. His family had never blamed him for Emilio’s death, though it might have been easier on him if they had. Pushing back those thoughts, he escorted her to the door. “It works this way for me.” He didn’t want to admit aloud that it might not be the complete truth.

  “You’ve hired me full-time, but how many hours do you put in per week?”

  “I don’t keep track.” If he did, he’d have to take a long, hard look at what he was doing with his life, and he didn’t want to go there. This was all he deserved. It was his fault that Emilio had died. End of story. Turning away from her momentarily, he hung his lab coat on the back of a door. “Ready?”

  “Thanks.” She proceeded out the door ahead of him. As she walked past, he caught a whiff of her perfume, a sweet but spicy mix, not too heavy, and very enticing. It reminded him of sandalwood and musk. Through the course of the day he’d been close enough to catch it, but now it seemed to be hooked deeply into his brain. He’d know that sweet and exotic scent anywhere now.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you, Dr. Torres,” she said, and shoved her hands into her pockets. As she spoke, she kept her eyes averted from him. “It wasn’t my intention.”

  “It’s Miguel, and you can’t offend me.” He’d been through so much over the years that life had hardened him to insult or injury with mere words, and he had the scars to prove it. Offend him? Not a chance.

  Her head snapped up, and she looked closely at him, peering into his eyes as if looking for something that simply wasn’t there. “I find that hard to believe. We all react to things. Things can hurt us if we let them.”

  “Then it’s simple. I don’t let them.” He’d walk her to her car, ensure that she got safely away and go home. Discussions of emotions weren’t on the agenda for this evening.

  She let that comment go, but he could see that she didn’t like the answer or believe it.

  In silence they walked to her car at the far end of the parking lot, and she gasped. “Oh. There’s a dent in the door.” She leaned over to examine it and unknowingly gave him a lovely view of her equally lovely backside.

  As a professional, he knew he should avert his eyes and focus on the car door, but some deep-seated male instinct allowed him one last wistful glance before he stooped beside her to examine the damage. He pressed his fingers to the dent. It looked as if someone had opened a door onto hers and caused the dent. “Cars aren’t made the way they used to be. Sometimes the wind can take a door and throw it pretty hard.” He looked over at her. “Sorry about that. Maybe the parking garage down the street would be a better option.” Though her car wasn’t a showpiece, it was new and it showed.

  “Nice idea, but it hardly does any good now.”

  The frown between her eyes made him want to do something to fix the situation. He was a doctor and a man and that was what he did. He fixed things. Running his fingers over the dent again, an idea surfaced. “Stay here for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  “Why? Do you have a dent-fixing kit in the clinic?”

  “No, but I might be able to help.” Despite his misgivings about Vicky, he couldn’t not help her. It just wasn’t in him to walk away from any situation that he could possibly fix, no matter what his personal feelings.

  “I’ll still have to take it to the shop, won’t I?” she asked, worry clouding her eyes.

  “Give me a minute, okay?” In just a few minutes he strolled across the parking lot back to Vicky and her pricey dent.

  “What are you going to do?”

  He swung the plunger off his shoulder to show her. “I’m going to apply a little physics to see if it will reverse your situation.”

  “With a plunger?” The expression on her face was full of understandable doubt. She raised her brows and stepped back. “I’ve got to see this.”

  “You’ll learn to get creative if you work around here long enough.” Turning to the car, he placed the plunger in the center of the dent and secured a good seal. Then he slowly pulled. The dent popped back into place with a thud, and Vicky jumped at the sound.

  “You did it!” she said, and in her excitement clutched his arm with her hand. “I can’t believe you did it with a plunger, of all things. I never would have thought of that.”

  A grin he couldn’t suppress surged across his face at her contagious enthusiasm. He didn’t know plumbing supplies could so easily please someone. The warmth in his chest was a puzzling sensation, one he hadn’t felt for a long time. And one he couldn’t afford to feel now. Stowing the pleasure at her reaction in a compartment deep inside, he nodded. “Well, there you go. Newton’s third law in action.”

  “Equal and opposite forces, right?” She was nearly giddy in her excitement.

  In the dim twilight he could see her sparkling eyes, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. It was curved upward, and her full, sensual lips were made for a man to kiss, to lose himself in, and forget the troubles of the day. Some part of him yearned to respond to that, but he couldn’t. Not now. Probably not ever, and he pushed away the desire to do so. He needed her as a nurse, not a lover. This was strictly a hands-off relationship, so he changed the subject and gave his libido a kick in the shins.

  “You obviously paid attention in physics.”

  “A little, but it’s really not my forte.” She gave a quick laugh then released his arm, and he could draw a full breath again. “Thanks so much, Miguel. This saves me a trip to the shop. I always feel so stupid when I go there.”

  “You’re welcome. And you should never feel stupid. You’re bright.” Very—and he’d do well to remember that.

  “Thanks.” She dropped her chin and looked away. “My family doesn’t particularly think so.”

  “I’d say that’s their problem, then, not yours.” He took a safe step back from her, removed the plunger from the door, then opened it for her. “Still willing to tackle this job?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Before she got in, she glanced around. “I just noticed that there’s no other vehicle around. Where’s yours? Dent-free in the garage?”

  “I usually walk. Burns off the day for me.” And the ghosts that haunted him every waking moment. No walk would be long enough to outdistance them.

  “Do you want a lift?” she asked, and got into the vehicle. “Be happy to.”

  “No, thanks. The air will do me good.” He closed the door and watched as the most intriguing woman he’d met in a very long time waved then drove away. Intriguing, yes. Within the scope of attainment? Not even on a good day. Eventually, the princess in her would come out, and then he’d see the real Vicky.

  As he returned to the clinic, the mural painted on the side caught his attention. Local kids had covered the building with their art, their words and their love. It soothed his soul a little to see it. Life moved on around you, even if you were stuck in the past. Unfortunately, love wasn’t going to be enough. He’d learned that the hard way long ago. No matter how much you loved someone, it simply wasn’t enough. Life got in the
way as it had when Emilio had been killed and his fiancée had left him. His own life had been on the fast track with medical school and a fiancée with golden plans for the future. That night, he’d nearly lost everything. Turning away from the sight of the building, he continued inside and stowed the plunger where it belonged.

  He finished the remaining notes as quickly as possible, intending to go home and get ready for another day. As he strolled down the sidewalk, taking in the early-evening air and admiring the drawn-out sunset, thoughts of Vicky and, as much as he resented it, her words followed him home.

  What was it about her that churned up the past that he’d thought had been tucked away? Maybe she reminded him of something, or of dreams let go, of an unrealized future. He didn’t know and didn’t want to spend another second thinking about the princess in his clinic. One day she’d walk off like everyone else had and he’d be stuck trying to replace her.

  Normally, he would have walked past the photos on his wall without stopping, not allowing the memories to make him stop. Tonight he paused and really looked at the faces there as he hadn’t in a long time. He paused longest in front of Emilio, who had been seventeen at the time of this photo, and he had never grown any older. In an unconscious movement he clasped the sterling-silver bracelet on his right wrist. Every time he touched it he thought of Emilio and he touched it often, scratching the surface of the memory that he could never allow to heal.

  Miguel turned away from the image. He didn’t need a photo. Emilio’s face would be forever etched in his mind. The old cliché was that time healed all wounds. Not for him it hadn’t. He couldn’t let it. He didn’t deserve it.

  He moved away and tried to find the usual pace of his evening, but it eluded him. Images and thoughts of Emilio plagued him. Staggering guilt filled his chest and burned a path straight through his heart. The boy never should have been there, never should have come looking for him, but he had, and it was his fault that Emilio had died.

  He’d never forgive himself for allowing his brother to die. If only he’d been more skilled, or further in his career with enough skills, or better at convincing Emilio to leave the gang that was not a true family to him, that he had one of his own that loved him. If only he’d been a better brother, doctor, friend, Emilio would be alive right now and both their lives would be very different.

  There was no fix, no absolution for that one unforgivable act. The mistake he couldn’t take back and could never mend. Broken limbs he could fix. Broken lives were out of his realm. If he had minded his own business, Emilio might still be alive.

  Determined not to give the entire night to the ghosts, he turned on the news, got on his stationary bike and pulled out a medical journal. One of the three were bound to distract him for a while.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE next morning Miguel strode through the front doors of the clinic, which were already unlocked, and past a waiting room full of patients. Dammit. He was late. After a restless night filled with unwanted and haunting dreams, he’d finally fallen into a deep sleep just before dawn and had apparently slept right through his alarm.

  He strode to the nurses’ station and shoved his hair back from his face. “Sorry, Tilly. Who do we have up first?” Trying to calm his irritation, he didn’t want to be rattled when seeing patients. He could miss potential signs of illness if he were distracted. He couldn’t allow himself even that small lapse. Someone’s health, or life, could depend on it.

  “First three rooms are full, Carlos is checking vitals and Vicky is triaging the next few,” Tilly said, and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Relax, mijo. She’s good and the world hasn’t ended because you were five minutes late.”

  “Okay.” Miguel let out a relieved breath. “Thanks, Tilly. You’re a gem.”

  She cackled and returned to the computer screen. “More like a diamond stuck in the rough.”

  Still a little rattled, Miguel tended to his first two patients, with Carlos assisting. The third patient was going to require some labs and a chest X-ray that they couldn’t do in the clinic. He’d have Vicky fill out the proper forms and send him to the lab and then radiology department.

  The second he stepped out from the lengthy patient exam in room three, his mouth began to water, and he stopped in the doorway.

  “You okay, Doc?” Carlos asked.

  Miguel’s gaze darted around the area. “What do I smell?”

  With a chuckle Carlos clapped Miguel on the arm then pulled him out of the doorway so the patient could leave. “That would be coffee, my friend.” Carlos pulled in a deep breath and sighed as if sniffing ambrosia.

  “I know it’s coffee. Why is it here, and why does it smell like that?” he asked, still stunned at the fragrance and his visceral reaction to it.

  “Thanks to our new BFF, Vicky, we now have coffee for everyone. Really good coffee, too!” He laughed and led the way to a shiny new machine that emitted the most divine odor he’d ever smelled in this clinic.

  Vicky stood beside three cases of prepackaged coffee. “I hope it’s okay here. This way both the staff and patients can help themselves.” Obviously pleased with the arrangement, the smile she gave was radiant.

  Unfortunately, Miguel was about to wipe the smile right off of her face. “You have to send it back. I’m sorry, but I believe we talked yesterday about the budget shortfalls. We simply can’t afford the luxury.” He cleared his throat. “No matter what you’re used to, around here money is tight and there are no unilateral decisions made.”

  As they spoke, an elderly patient walked by with a cup of the steaming brew in his hand. “Thanks for the coffee, miss. I sure needed a cup today.” He continued on his way, oblivious to the conversation around him.

  “But—”

  “I’m sorry, Vicky. We can’t have it.”

  “But—” she tried again.

  “No. We can’t do without medical supplies for the luxury of coffee.”

  Now Vicky’s smile turned into an angry stare. “Your next three patients are in rooms four through six.” She picked up her clipboard and entered the triage area again.

  “You should listen to her, man. It’s not what you think. She did a good thing for everyone.” Carlos moved forward to assist a woman juggling her purse and a walker. “Let me help you with that,” Carlos said to the woman, but kept his eyes on Miguel. He jerked his head in Vicky’s direction and frowned at Miguel.

  With a sigh, he waited until Vicky returned from the triage area. She avoided eye contact with him and walked briskly past. Damn. Late for work and now he’d offended his brand-new nurse. Could the day get any worse? “Vicky? Can I see you for a moment?” He led the way to the staff lounge and waited until she entered behind him then shut the door.

  “What is it, Doctor? I have patients to see,” she said, the fire still in her eyes.

  “Despite my misgivings, Carlos tells me there’s more to the coffee story than I know.” He hated even starting this conversation, but the day was already shot to hell. One more delay wasn’t going to make it any worse. Carlos had never led him astray. Yet.

  “Yes, there is.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him.

  She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, and he supposed he deserved her irritation for not listening to her in the first place. In his experience, his worst-case scenario was usually right. “Will you please tell me?”

  “It’s simple. Happy patients come back, and they tell their friends about the place that made them happy. A little gesture like free coffee goes a long way in public relations. You can’t put a value on word-of-mouth advertising. It’s priceless. You may not think much of me, but I know that to be a fact.”

  “I know all of that, but—”

  “So I called a friend of mine that I went to high school with. He owns a coffee delivery service.”

  “But—”

  “And I talked him into making a charitable donation to the clinic for the tax write-off. He was pleased with my suggestion
.” She turned away and reached for the door.

  In a split second, before he could even think about what he was doing, Miguel reached over her head and slammed the door shut, trapping her between the door and his body.

  With a gasp she whirled and raised her face to his, only inches away. “Open this door.”

  “No. Not until you listen to me.”

  “You didn’t listen to me. Why should I listen to you now?” She continued to glare up at him, and he could see every speck, every detail of the irises of her eyes, and the way the pupils changed.

  “I’m not letting you out of here until you let me apologize.” Though it nearly choked him to say it, it was the right thing to do.

  Surprise covered her face for an unguarded second, and her pupils dilated at the rush of pleasure his words caused. When her lips parted, they drew his attention. If he were a different man in a different situation, he wouldn’t have hesitated to close the gap between them and find out how soft her lips were. If he were a different man, he’d take her in his arms and press her length against his. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. He couldn’t.

  When she blinked and looked at him with a softening in her expression that made him want more than anything to take that step, he choked down that feeling of want that she unknowingly stirred in him. The muscles in his arms trembled from the effort of holding himself back. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he began to lean forward, began to make that move toward her. Something in him held back and he froze.