Socialite...or Nurse in a Million?

by Molly Evans

  “How about lunch burritos or something? I’ll call in the order and go get some if anyone else wants to join in. My treat for today.” The idea of it was suddenly much more appealing than anything she’d thought of all day long.

  “Yeah, let’s do it.” Tilly balled up her lunch and tossed it, as well.

  With a grin, Vicky grabbed some paper for everyone to write down what they wanted. In minutes her list was complete, with the exception of Miguel’s order. He had closeted himself in his office. She knocked lightly in case he was on the phone.

  “Come in.”

  Fatigue sounded heavy in his voice, and she was sorry it was there. Carlos’s condition weighed heavily on him. “We’re just sending out an impromptu lunch order and wanted to know if you want in on it, my treat.” She handed him the takeout menu.

  “Sure.” He quickly scanned it, then handed it back. “I know this place. Give me a number five with extra cheese.”

  She took the menu back and looked at it. “Sounds good. Might have to try that myself sometime.” As she turned to go, she hesitated. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “I mean really okay.” She bit her lip and glanced away for a second. “You seem a little off today, but considering the last few days that’s not totally unreasonable.”

  A sideways smile crossed his mouth briefly. “Don’t worry about me, Vicky. I’ll be fine.”

  This was a level of coolness she’d never seen from him. He’d totally pulled back from the closeness they’d started to have, even as coworkers. Maybe she had been wrong again. Maybe her judgment of men hadn’t improved over the years and Miguel was just like the rest of them. Couldn’t be trusted to have an honest relationship. “I see. Sorry to bother you. I’ll just go get this and be right back.”

  She closed the door behind her and huffed out a deep breath. Whatever she had once thought possible between them was now obviously just a mistaken desire. Men who ran hot and cold with their emotions unnerved her, and she couldn’t deal with the dishonesty of it. Tears clouded her vision on the way to the restaurant, and she had to pull over for a minute or risk getting into an accident.

  Somehow she managed to get to the restaurant, pick up the order and return to the clinic without causing an accident or dropping the bags of lunch burritos. The cheery smile she pasted on her face was a farce and she knew it, but the staff responded and that was the important thing.

  The food was a big hit and after consuming the fragrant and flavorful burritos, everyone returned to work with a bit more zip in their step.

  “A little green chili goes a long way, doesn’t it?” Tilly asked.

  “What?” Vicky blinked.

  “Just look at everyone. Back to their usual selves mostly. A little green chili helped. That was a great idea you had,” she said, and squeezed Vicky’s arm. “We all needed it.”

  “It’s okay. It really wasn’t anything.” Somehow the morose atmosphere seemed to have lightened around her, but Vicky’s heart still felt heavy.

  “Yes, it was, girl. It was a great idea and it’s time you accepted something.” Tilly turned to face her fully, making Vicky feel as if she was back in nursing school.

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re a part of this group. You might have come here as an outsider, a stranger, but you’ve quickly been accepted as one of us here.” Then Tilly smiled.

  “I don’t know, Tilly. Sometimes I feel like I’m at home here and other times I just think I’ll always be an outsider no matter where I go.” That was the bald truth of it.

  “We all feel that way at times, but, just so you know, you’re one of us.” Tilly patted her arm. “Now, go and get the first three patients lined up or Miguel will toss us out on our ears.”

  Vicky laughed, her heart a little lighter, and called for the first three patients. She placed them in different rooms, and began the assessments for Miguel.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE London Broil was fabulous as always, but it didn’t matter what the chef served, it always stuck in her throat. Washing the meal down with more wine didn’t make it any more palatable and simply wasted good wine. The only time she thought she was developing esophageal reflux disease was at her father’s dinner table.

  “Victoria’s got some news,” Edward said as he cut into his food.

  The hair on Vicky’s head actually stood on end. No matter how old she was, she’d always feel six years old when she sat at her father’s formal dining table. Even though it had been in the family for generations, it would always be his table.

  Turning his head, peppered with steel-gray hair, and focusing those brilliant blue eyes on her, Charles Sterling-Thorne raised his brows at his only daughter. “What sort of news, Victoria? Did you finally come to your senses and leave that ridiculous career of yours? It’s about time.”

  “Hardly, Father. I’ll always be a nurse.” She nearly scoffed, but managed to choke it back. Insubordination was not tolerated at the table. “Eddy’s referring to something else entirely.” Managing to look calm and cool on the outside had always seen her through these tense meals, but now she knew the brittle veneer was beginning to crack.

  “Edward,” her brother snarled at her through gritted teeth. “She’s talking about having a fundraiser for her little clinic. Seems their benefactor has died, and the rest of the family is too greedy to continue the endowments.”

  “Well, that’s too bad,” her father said, his eyes glittering with amusement and his I-told-you-so look. “Guess you’ll have to quit now, won’t you?”

  That did it. She’d tolerated his snide comments and superior looks for too many years, allowing him to control her for most of her life. It ended there and right now. Carefully, she placed her fork on the table beside the plate rimmed in gold, wiped her mouth with the linen napkin and stood.

  “Victoria, sit down. The meal isn’t over.”

  “But I am, Father. I am through with this…” She gestured to all of them and the air. “This farce of a family.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re overreacting again as usual. Sit down.” He dismissed her with his eyes and returned to his meal.

  “No, it’s well past time I reacted this way and stood up for myself. You will never, ever again belittle me or my chosen career. I am a nurse, and a damned good one. Last Friday one of our staff nearly died, and I saved his life by using my brain and not waiting for someone else to swoop in and save the day. I did it. I worked with Miguel, and together we saved this young man’s life.” She sniffed. “I’m very, very proud of the work I do.”

  Tears of rage at her father and pride in herself clouded her vision, but she was determined not to let him see her emotions because he would continue to think of her as weak. “He means everything to his family, and I gave him back to them.” She stood straighter, not realizing those words had been bottled up inside her. Her father put his fork down and although his expression remained closed, he looked at her in silence.

  “I demand that you treat me with respect and respect my career choice because it’s not going away, ever. I’m not a corporate type, I’m not going to be a university professor, and I’m never going to enter the business other than in a peripheral manner, Father. It’s well past time you accept who I am.” She paused and looked at the faces around the table, all of whom stared at her with rapt attention. Having been accepted by the group at the clinic based on her personality, her skills and a little coffee, it had given her the courage to stand up to her father. Being accepted by her peers was something she hadn’t realized she’d needed until she had it. Now she was never going to let go of it.

  “Who exactly are you?” Charles asked, his tone serious, all sarcasm gone.

  “I am a nurse. I will always be a nurse and this clinic is a very important part of our community.” She sucked in another breath and held her father’s gaze, although she spoke to them all. “And when the time comes, all of you are going to cough up a healthy donation to keep i
t going.”

  “I see.” He rested his elbows on the table and tented his fingers. That was always a bad sign. She knew it and sat down, still determined to hold her position. Charles was a businessman and a master manipulator, and she needed to be on her guard. “When will that time be?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but soon. I’ve made the suggestion to put together a big fundraiser, and I’ve a preliminary plan, but Miguel is still working his numbers, too. The city was supposed to come through with additional funding, but they haven’t.” That was unfortunate for all of them.

  “Who’s been managing the money until now?” Arnold asked. He was the brother who made magic with numbers.

  “Miguel has been doing everything, but it’s simply too overwhelming for one person to be the director, the physician, the accountant and find more funding all at once.”

  “Well, Victoria, when you get the benefit together, you can count on me for assistance.” Charles watched her.

  Surprise and shock raced through her system, but at the same time a self-protective suspicion. “What are you playing at, Daddy? I’m not talking about loose change here. This clinic is a very worthy cause, and Miguel simply can’t do it all by himself any longer. No one can.” The light in him was rapidly burning out, and she was determined to help keep it going.

  “I’ll kick in some accounting help,” her eldest brother, Arnold, said, and speared a bit of meat. “Set up a nonprofit or something for him.”

  “Me, too!” Jessica, her niece of ten, said. “My class has raised money before, and we can help, too.”

  Tears that she’d held back now gushed forth, and Vicky allowed them to roll down her cheeks. “Thank you, Jessy.” She looked at her father, afraid to hope that he was really seeing her for the first time, acknowledging her as an independent adult with a life and agenda of her own. “Are you really serious or are you just amusing yourself at my expense?”

  “I’m certain it will be at my expense,” he said, and dropped his gaze with a clearing of his throat. “I’d forgotten what heart you have, Victoria, the passion you have for helping others. Please accept my apology and count on me to help out the clinic in any way I can.”

  Victoria leaned her elbows on the table and tented her fingers this time, while holding her father’s gaze. “How about unrestricted access to your contact list?”

  He roared in laughter and nearly tipped his chair over. “You are definitely my daughter!”

  “I hope that’s a compliment,” she said as the family laughed, too.

  “It is, Victoria, it is.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, then picked up his fork. “Now, tell me what kind of ideas you have and how the rest of us can help you. Of course we’ll provide the wine. Won’t do to have a Sterling-Thorne fundraiser without the family label.”

  Victoria’s appetite returned with gusto as she outlined the ideas she had for the fundraiser. Everyone engaged in a vigorous discussion, tossing out ideas and hashing them over until a brilliant plan emerged that Vicky was certain would work.

  Now all she had to do was convince Miguel.

  Between extra duties at the clinic and checking on Carlos, there was simply little time to spare to talk to Miguel until the end of the week. He was as personable with the patients as he had always been, but now he’d clearly withdrawn into some sort of bubble that protected him from everything and everyone else. He was simply burned-out.

  She lingered after the staff left, hoping to catch him, to talk to him. She approached his office, where he was spending more and more time, and had raised her hand to knock when his office phone rang. Easing away, she didn’t want to eavesdrop and waited a few minutes until she heard him hang up.

  “Miguel?” she called, and knocked on the door. “Got a few minutes?”

  “Sure. Come in.”

  Vicky entered the office and nearly gasped. He looked terrible in the fluorescent lighting overhead. “You’re not sleeping, are you?”

  Before answering, he rubbed his face with his hands, as if trying to wake up, though it was the end of the day. “Is that what you wanted to talk about, my sleeping habits?”

  “No, of course not, but—”

  “What did you want?”

  Taken aback by the gruff tone of his voice, she frowned, trying to decide what to do. “I wanted to talk to you about the fundraiser. I’ve got some ideas and can get moving on things now that we know Carlos is going to get better.” She sighed. “That’s at least one less thing to worry about now.”

  “Yeah, it is. I hadn’t expected him to do so well so quickly.”

  “I’m just glad he is. The resilience of the young, you know?” She cleared her throat. “However, the problem for the clinic remains.”

  “The clinic problems have changed since we last talked. It may have to close.”

  “What?” That was something she’d never expected to hear. “Why?”

  “I’ve been offered a job at the hospital in the trauma unit. And I’ve spent the last week on the phone trying to find someone to take over the clinic, but no one wants to do what I do and there simply isn’t the funding to hire more staff.” He angrily got to his feet and cursed under his breath. “Until I laid it all out on paper, I hadn’t realized how well we did with so little help. No one is going to do what I’ve done. No one!” He threaded his fingers in his hair and groaned aloud. “If I want a life I have to close the clinic. What choice is that?”

  “Miguel, be straight with me. What’s going on?”

  “I either have to sacrifice the clinic and the community if I want to take the university job or I have to sacrifice my life to keep this clinic going. This isn’t what I set out to do when I took over the clinic.”

  “You’ve done a marvelous job with so many things here. Tilly told me how you turned it around in just over a year. That’s astonishing.”

  “Yeah, by working my ass off.” He turned to face her. “Do you know I haven’t had a true vacation in three years, nearly four? There are so many family events that I’ve missed because of some crisis or another.” Anger snapped in his dark eyes, and she knew it was focused on himself.

  “That’s not good, Miguel.” She shook her head. “No one should sacrifice all their time like that. You deserve to have a life, too.”

  “Do I really?” he turned away from her and swore again. “I don’t know if I deserve anything.”

  “That’s not true. You’ve put your heart and your blood into this place.”

  “My brother’s blood, you mean.”

  “What are you talking about?” That didn’t make sense.

  “Never mind. I’ll just have to decline the job offer and carry on as usual.”

  “You can’t mean that,” she said. “I saw you in the trauma unit with Carlos and when he was injured. You were at your best, weren’t you?”

  “No.” He shook his head in denial, but she knew the truth of it.

  “Yes, you were. I’ve been around enough to know when a physician is truly in his element, when he knows what he is doing and what feeds his soul. That was it for you, Miguel. I saw it. I saw you.”

  “It was one incident.”

  “But it changed you, didn’t it?”

  “No. It merely pointed out all my failings.”

  “How can you say that? Carlos would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter. His family sure as hell thinks it matters.” She approached him and invaded his personal space. She closed in on him and tried to ease his pain. Carefully, she placed her hand on his forearm and squeezed. The muscles beneath her hand bunched and trembled, but she refused to release him. “Tell me what’s bugging you.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “That is an outright lie. Tell me.” The gaze that met hers was devoid of life, of the passion she knew lived in him. She’d felt it, touched it, tasted it. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

  “Vick
y, it’s none of your business. It’s history, my history, and—”

  “It’s eating you alive,” she whispered. Never in her life had she assaulted a man, but she was about to if he didn’t start talking. Some sort of fearlessness came over her, and she placed her arms around his shoulders to bring him closer. His body was stiff and resisting.

  Miguel clamped his hands around her wrists, intending to drag her arms away, but he didn’t. Something about the way she moved, the way she smelled, the way she felt so close to him stopped him. Then he looked into her eyes, and he was done for.

  “Vicky.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Vicky.”

  “It’s okay, Miguel. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

  He didn’t know if things would ever be okay again, and right now he didn’t care. Instead of putting her away from him, he grabbed her tight against him. Emotions and feelings that he’d kept locked up inside of him burst free. Right now, talking wasn’t what he wanted.

  He pulled back, cupped both hands around Vicky’s face and kissed her. Hard and hungry, he wanted her. There was no hesitation in her response as she parted her lips to his tongue. Each stroke of her silky tongue met his and he put all of the pain, the emotion of his past into the kiss. With her arms linked tight around his neck, he pressed one hand to her back and allowed the other to drift down to that lovely backside he’d noticed the first day. He cupped one hand against her curved bottom and then brought the other hand down. Somehow he managed to move so that he pressed her against the wall. A groan of pure lust rumbled deep in his chest. If he didn’t control himself right now, he might commit an act he’d likely regret.

  Easing back, he gave her a little room, but didn’t let go of her. She was a beauty inside and out, and he’d been an idiot for not seeing it. Although he wanted her, he didn’t belong in her life any more than she belonged in his. They either needed to end this little flirtation of theirs or take it all the way and be done with it. As he looked at her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes went soft, the ruby lips, he doubted that making love to her for one night would ever be enough. If he jumped into that water, he’d certainly drown.