Surgeon in a Tux

by Carol Marinelli

  Very necessary to appear completely fine, but it was terribly hard at times.

  The chocolates for the patients were delivered on Wednesday, the scent of them driving her crazy, and, of course, Leo had to catch her when she caved in.

  ‘What’s behind your hand?’ Leo asked as he knocked and without waiting walked into her office.

  ‘Nothing!’ But it didn’t come out very well with a mouth that was full.

  Leo actually had to stop himself from going over and having a little wrestle to get to the chocolates or prising her mouth open with his tongue to get a taste.

  Instead, he remembered what he had come in for. ‘I need a new prescription pad.’

  Not even chocolate on her tongue could disguise the bitter taste as she went and replaced the pad she’d outlived only marginally.

  Ethan had almost been right.

  Valentine’s Day dawned and Lizzie had to get there early and watch as the florist and her assistant carried bucket after bucket of red roses through the clinic.

  It hurt.

  She just couldn’t let it show.

  Though Leo made her laugh when he saw all the roses. ‘God, I hope no one’s got hay fever.’

  ‘You’d better check the expiry date on the adrenaline shots,’ Declan said, and then asked Lizzie what she was up to for Valentine’s Day.

  ‘I’m visiting my mum,’ Lizzie said. ‘So it’s not exactly a romantic one for me.’

  ‘Oh, well, you can always do Valentine’s tomorrow,’ Declan said. ‘Free and single in London is a very nice place to be.’

  ‘It is.’ Lizzie smiled and Leo felt his back straighten a touch. She was trying to make him jealous was his first thought, but, then, Lizzie didn’t have to try, he already was.

  ‘You’re staying the weekend in Brighton?’ Leo asked.

  ‘Nope.’ Lizzie kept that smile on. ‘Just tonight. I’ve been a bit absent of late with my friends …’

  Leo loathed the thought of Lizzie let loose in London and paced his office floor, stopping as she popped her head in to say goodbye before leaving early for the weekend.

  ‘You’ve got Francesca at two,’ Lizzie reminded him. ‘Have a great weekend.’

  ‘Don’t forget your flowers,’ Leo said, because he’d made sure there was a bouquet for each of the women who worked at the clinic, but, realising it might be a bit insensitive, he added, ‘You could take them for your mum.’

  He stood there, rigid, as Lizzie just laughed and because it was Friday she let rip just a little some of the hurt she was holding onto, just enough to confuse him.

  ‘If you weren’t such a good boss, Leo, I’d tell you where you could shove your flowers. Happy Valentine’s Day!’

  Wry was the smile on his face when he watched from the window as Lizzie walked down the steps and into the street.

  No, she hadn’t taken her flowers but, of course, she’d taken the chocolate! He was so busy watching her that he didn’t even notice, till he heard a voice, that Ethan had come in and was standing behind him.

  ‘Lizzie,’ Ethan said, ‘would be the best thing that ever happened to you.’

  ‘I thought you wanted me away from her.’

  ‘It’s way too late for that, but if you do love her …’

  ‘What do you know about love?’ Leo quipped. Ethan had so easily admitted to Leo that time that he’d only been using Olivia. Ethan’s heart was pretty much closed.

  ‘Oh, I know …’

  Something in Ethan’s voice was enough to tear Leo’s gaze from the spectacular sight of Lizzie’s rear end and turn round. ‘Ethan?’

  ‘Leave it,’ Ethan said.

  Which meant leave it.

  It really did.

  Francesca had all her sparkle back.

  ‘Leo!’ she greeted him warmly. ‘Where’s Lizzie?’

  ‘Lizzie’s got the afternoon off.’ Leo had to stop himself from snapping out his reply.

  ‘Getting herself ready for Valentine’s night?’ Francesca asked. ‘I hope you are taking her somewhere nice.’

  ‘Francesca, the ball we attended together was a work function.’

  ‘Please!’ Francesca rolled her eyes but he moved the conversation on. ‘What can I do for you, Francesca? And please tell me it doesn’t involve surgery.’

  Francesca gave a little shiver. ‘It’s cold.’

  ‘It’s a beautiful day,’ Leo corrected her, but headed over to the brandy and poured her one.

  ‘Of course I don’t want surgery,’ Francesca said, ‘but I was reading in my magazine abut cosmetic tattooing. My hands are a little shaky these days …’

  ‘You could just have one of these before you put your make-up on,’ Leo teased, handing her the brandy.

  ‘It has nothing to do with brandy.’ Francesca laughed. ‘It is age.’

  When it suited her, Leo thought dryly. ‘I don’t do tattooing.’

  ‘I thought not—it’s hardly a tattoo parlour. I just hate Tony seeing me without my eyeliner on,’ she said.

  ‘I can give you a name,’ Leo said. ‘How are you two doing?’

  ‘That’s the real reason I’m here.’ Francesca smiled. ‘We’re getting married, Leo!’

  He was over in an instant. His favourite patient was getting married, this time to a man she loved, and he couldn’t be happier for her.

  ‘I’m thrilled for you.’ He gave her a hug. ‘Hell, you didn’t need to make an appointment to come in and tell me that!’

  ‘I know. It’s just a small wedding,’ Francesca said, and she took out an invitation. ‘I put Leo and Lizzie …’

  ‘Just change it and put Leo plus one.’

  ‘I want Lizzie to come.’

  ‘Well, invite Lizzie, then,’ Leo said, but his collar suddenly felt tight at the thought of Lizzie’s plus one.

  ‘Leo, please listen.’

  ‘Francesca, you are one of my most valued clients but that doesn’t mean—’

  ‘I remember your father, Leo. I remember waiting for the first of many facelifts and him falling down drunk. He was a fool.’

  ‘You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.’

  ‘And I remember your mother.’ Francesca would not stop. ‘Her affairs and her social life and all the things she put before your brother and you.’

  ‘Just leave it.’

  ‘Is that how you want to be?’

  ‘I don’t have affairs.’

  ‘I’m not talking about cheating, I’m talking about family. How old are you, Leo?’

  ‘A lady never asks a gentleman his age …’ Leo smiled but he was smarting a little inside. Thirty-eight and a brilliant career to show for it, but a reputation with women that had had Lizzie running off into the woods, or rather choosing a weekend in a nursing home than being in Paris with him.

  ‘I regret and I regret and I regret,’ Francesca said, ‘because I was too stupidly proud to admit what a fool I’d been and too vain and too young …’

  Leo stood to halt her, to let her know his valuable time was up, but Francesca stood too.

  ‘I am your friend, Leo,’ Francesca said, ‘which is why I’m going to tell you this. Do you know one of the reasons I’m so scared of getting old?’

  Leo didn’t answer.

  ‘There is no more a selfish profession than that of a ballerina … although a surgeon might come a close second.’ Leo swallowed as Francesca spoke on. ‘I’m not talking about the back end of a chorus line, Leo. I’m talking about being centre stage. These hands …’ she held hers up to him ‘… this face, this body, this neck … do you know how many people were counting on me to be on form?’

  ‘I get it.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ Francesca said. ‘Because I didn’t and now that I am old I realise all the love I let slip through my hands.’

  ‘So, what?’ Leo wasn’t going to be swayed by Francesca’s dramatic musings. ‘I’m supposed to marry Lizzie and have lots of children so when I’m old and mad I’m not alone?’

&
nbsp; ‘No,’ Francesca said. ‘So when you’re old and sane you don’t spend every day regretting the choices you made.’

  ‘Thanks for the lecture, Francesca.’ He was not about to be dictated to by some eccentric patient, but he softened his abruptness with a smile and it was back to doctor mode. Carefully he examined her face. ‘Geoff has done a good job,’ Leo admitted, but still held his own. ‘I wouldn’t have put in as much filler, though.’

  ‘I like it,’ Francesca said, ‘but I think the glow isn’t from Geoff’s filler, more Tony and I making—’

  ‘I get the picture,’ Leo interrupted. That image he really didn’t need! ‘Right, I’ll give you that name of the tattooist and if you decide you need something done for your wedding, I hope, this time, you’ll listen to me.’

  ‘I will come in and see you.’

  ‘And if I say no, will you listen?’

  ‘Yes, Leo.’

  ‘Because there’s no point otherwise,’ Leo scolded. ‘If I know you’re just going to take yourself off to someone else every time you don’t get your own way …’

  ‘I will listen to you, Leo.’

  ‘Good.’ He went to walk her out then realised he’d almost forgotten. ‘Happy Valentine’s Day, Francesca …’ He kissed his favourite patient on the cheek as he handed her her flowers and chocolates. ‘Of course I shan’t be offended if you don’t take them—I don’t want to cause any friction between you and Tony.’

  ‘Ah, a little mystery is a good thing in a relationship.’ She held the bouquet and inhaled the scent, just as if she were accepting the accolade on stage. ‘But isn’t there someone else who you should be giving these to?’

  Leo didn’t have the heart to tell Francesca the staffroom was filled with the blooms. ‘As I said …’ Leo gave a tight smile. ‘I don’t need you to sort out my love life.’

  ‘Love life?’ Francesca checked. ‘I thought Leo Hunter only had a social life.’ She shook her head before walking off. ‘You’d be mad to let her go.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  LIZZIE DROPPED OFF her things at the bed and breakfast and told Mrs Hewitt that, no, she didn’t want dinner tonight, before heading off to visit her parents.

  It was the tiniest procedure.

  A visiting surgeon was there for lumps-and-bumps day and Lizzie held her mother’s hand as the small lesion was removed.

  You missed Valentine’s Night in Paris with Leo Hunter for this.

  She watched as a small sticking plaster was applied, and stupid tears filled Lizzie’s eyes.

  ‘It’s not hurting her,’ Shelby, the nurse, said. ‘He put in lots of anaesthetic.’

  ‘I know,’ Lizzie answered. What was hurting was the full realisation that she had been hiding, had been trying to stop the hurt—and causing it in the end.

  Lizzie took her mum back to her room, helped her into bed and then brought her in some biscuits and tea.

  ‘So you’re off in the morning?’ Thomas asked.

  ‘Yes, but I’ll come and see you before I go,’ Lizzie said, dunking the biscuit and feeding it to her mum and seeing her smile from the simple pleasure of a tea-soaked biscuit.

  ‘Nice?’ Lizzie asked her mum.

  ‘Lovely,’ Faye said. ‘Thank you for being here today, Lizzie.’

  As clear as a bell Faye said it and Lizzie started to cry because, yes, she’d missed Valentine’s night in Paris with Leo but it was now actually worth it for this.

  Worth it to see her mum to take out a tissue and wipe her daughter’s tears—worth it for a brief moment with her mum that was how it should be.

  Not how it was.

  ‘Have you got my watch?’

  ‘Actually, I do.’ Lizzie could only laugh. ‘I picked it up this afternoon.’ She put the watch on her mother’s wrist and wished that she could superglue it there. ‘I love you, Mum,’ Lizzie said, but Faye was back to wherever it was she went.

  When the residents had all had dinner and her mum was settled, Lizzie said goodnight.

  Lizzie waved to a couple of the other residents as she left and then headed back to the Hewitts’, drained and exhausted from a week of pretending to be fine with Leo, and then the sound of her mother’s clear voice.

  One more big cry, Lizzie decided, and stopped for supplies—she already had chocolate but she bought some more and a nice bottle of wine too.

  Oh, and a DVD.

  Oh, and a big box of tissues with aloe vera in them so her nose wouldn’t be all cracked on Monday.

  ‘Evening, Lizzie.’ Mrs Hewitt’s eyes lingered on the bag as if she was smuggling in contraband. ‘You just made it. Howard was about to close the kitchen.’

  ‘I didn’t want dinner,’ Lizzie said, even though she was starving, but sitting alone on Valentines night really was about the limit. She could hear the sound of laughter and the chink of glasses coming from the dining room.

  ‘Howard waited for you,’ Mrs Hewitt said. Which meant, in her oh-so-passive-aggressive way, “get through there now and eat your dinner!”

  ‘Okay, thanks …’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ll just go and put my coat away.’ And sign up for a course on self-assertion, Lizzie thought darkly as she climbed the stairs. She just wanted to be alone and to think about Leo.

  Oh, Leo.

  She missed him.

  Missed his snobbish sense of humour and missed being the other person in his life.

  She understood Flora totally now because it would be terribly easy to make a fool of herself, Lizzie thought as she took her phone out of her bag.

  Terribly easy to text him and plead for that helicopter to come and whizz her away and to promise she could handle it for a little while longer, even though it could never last.

  Put down the phone, Lizzie!

  She did as pride told her and put some lip-gloss on instead then chewed it off as she made her way down to the dining room, bracing herself to enter couple’s world alone on Valentine’s night.

  She was sure she was seeing things.

  There, rising to stand as she walked in, was Leo.

  ‘He told me to say nothing,’ Mrs Hewitt said.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Lizzie asked, trying to tame her heart, trying not to rush over and burst into tears and read far more into this than there was.

  ‘I felt like splurging,’ Leo said. ‘I ordered three courses and we get a free bread roll and coffee.’

  ‘Stop it.’ Lizzie laughed.

  ‘I haven’t told you the best bit.’ His face was completely deadpan. ‘Howard made rum balls with our coffee, given it’s Valentine’s Day.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Lizzie asked, after Howard had served them their tomato soup, with a very wobbly cream heart drizzled on top.

  ‘I miss you,’ Leo answered simply.

  ‘You saw me this morning.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  She did.

  ‘Mrs Hewitt wouldn’t let me into your room …’ He always had and always would make her smile. ‘I’m across the hall. Can I sneak over?’

  ‘I can’t have sex here, Leo. It would be like doing it at home.’

  ‘We’ll be very quiet,’ Leo said, pressing his knee into hers, ‘but we’ll have to do it on the floor or we’ll self-combust with those nylon sheets.’ He saw the glitter of tears in her eyes even as she laughed. ‘How was your mum?’ he asked, as the second course was served.

  ‘I was just sitting there feeling sorry for myself that I’d missed Paris with you, but then she smiled and thanked me for being there. She really did recognise me.’

  ‘Worth it, then,’ Leo said, and it was without even a trace of sarcasm.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But it doesn’t make it easier.’ His insight shocked Lizzie. ‘That she does know that you’re there sometimes must make you wonder if she misses you when you’re not.’

  Lizzie nodded and she felt his hand on her cheek but she moved her face, she just couldn’t pretend it wasn’t agonising. ‘The thing is …’ Sou
p was a terribly hard ask and she shredded her roll instead and wondered how best to tell someone you desperately wanted to be with that it hurt too much to pretend. How to tell him that she loved him, which meant she couldn’t have sex with him because it came with her heart attached and it was soul-destroying, trying to guard it. ‘The thing is,’ Lizzie started again. ‘You remember when we said it might be awkward, us working together—I think, if we prolong things, we could get to that stage and I still want to work at the clinic so I think we need to—’

  ‘It isn’t awkward for Rafael and Abbie.’

  ‘No,’ Lizzie said, ‘but they’re a real couple. Leo …’

  ‘If we were married, would it be less awkward?’

  Lizzie’s eyes jerked up, sure he was teasing, that she was supposed to give some witty reply—but she was all out of them.

  ‘Please, don’t joke.’

  ‘If you knew how nervous I was, you’d know I wasn’t joking. Look.’ He showed her a small mark on his chin. ‘I cut myself shaving.’

  ‘Wow!’

  ‘I mean it,’ Leo said. ‘I want you to marry me.’

  ‘Leo?’ She didn’t understand. ‘You don’t want to get married. You don’t want be tied down …’ She giggled at his expression. ‘You know what I mean, Leo. I have commitments.’

  ‘I know,’ Leo said, and Lizzie blinked because he didn’t seem fazed.

  ‘Of course, I have to get the mix better, I realise that, but when my parents need me …’

  ‘You’ll be here when they do,’ Leo said. ‘Lizzie, I’m never going to ask you to choose me over them.’ He saw the doubt in her eyes and decided to smooth-talk his way around it. ‘Lizzie, look at the positives—I have no parents, yours are in a home, we’re never going to have to do that awful juggle-the-parents on Christmas Day that other couples have to. I am selfish, but I’m not that selfish that I would keep you from them. We can do it,’ he said. ‘I’m here, aren’t I? On Valentine’s Day.’

  He was.

  ‘I want to be with you,’ Leo said. ‘That’s all I know. I’ve never come close to feeling the way I do and I never thought I would. It’s true, what you said. I’ve messed up every relationship I’ve ever been in—I just know that I’m not going to mess things up with you.