Ideal Girl (Irish Girl, Hospital Romance 1)

by Jenny O'Brien

  Chapter Twelve

  Approaching the main entrance Liddy felt butterflies start to flutter deep inside at the thought of seeing Mitch again. Although she knew very little about men she was pretty sure he’d be there tonight. The look he’d given her earlier outside Sorcha’s flat had screamed of unfinished business between them, although she wasn’t going to admit anything to Sorcha. It would take her a while to forget that jibe about cavemen!

  In some ways it would be easier for her if he didn’t turn up. She would know for certain he was only tying up loose ends. He was only being kind, asking her out for supper – he probably knew that she’d refuse. After all it was unheard of for a student nurse to be dating a consultant.

  She’d almost convinced herself he wouldn’t be there, that is until she spotted him standing by the Porter’s Desk his Blackberry glued to his ear. She was halfway towards the stairs before Sorcha grabbed her arm to stop.

  Mitch glanced up mid-sentence to see them cross the hall and was only brought back to his senses by the persistent voice in his ear.

  ‘Yeah, okay. Look something’s come up. I’ll catch up with you later Paul.’ He returned his phone to his pocket without waiting for a reply, all his attention focused on the girl ahead.

  The only similarity between Liddy and the girl in front of him was the startling green eyes, now framed with thick mascara covered lashes. Her black clad legs ended in shiny patent heeled boots while her tunic gently skimmed suggestively over curves he longed to run his hands over. Her hair, which up until now he’d only seen dragged back any old how, was tumbling down her back - wild and untamed.

  ‘Hello, er Mitch.’

  ‘Hi there - you look beautiful, as does your friend.’ He said, casting the briefest of glances over at Sorcha almost wearing something red.

  ‘Thank you,’ Her pale face tinted pink.

  ‘Hi again Prof – how’s it hanging?’

  Mitch raised his eyebrows. ‘Call me Mitch and it’s hanging as well as can be expected in the circumstances.’ He caught the expression that flitted across Liddy’s face. He wished he could tell her she didn’t have to worry. Whilst he might be looking at her friend looking stunning, squeezed into tight red the only woman he saw was her.

  ‘So Mitch, we’re about to go to the party downstairs. Are you coming along?’ Sorcha asked.

  After the last three hours he’d just had all he wanted to do was to curl up with his cat and a stiff drink, but there was no way he could resist spending some more time in Liddy’s company, especially looking like that. He’d expected her to turn up in her jeans, not dressed for a night of passion. For some reason he suddenly remembered Donal; suddenly reliving that embrace.

  As he remembered other images appeared unbidden; images that screeched out of nowhere to take over his thoughts faster than a virus. Liddy and Donal kissing; Liddy and Donal touching; Liddy and Donal loving…. He couldn’t compete with a fait accompli and nor did he want to. Just look at how upset it had made him when Helena had been stolen out from under his duvet, and that was someone he didn’t love or even like very much. John was right; all his previous girlfriends were stuck up totties.

  Breaking out of his reverie with a jerk he looked up to catch her confused expression. He hadn’t planned on attending the party. Mixing with inebriated colleagues that were only interested in chasing nurses was not really his scene. Although wasn’t that just what he was doing; chasing nurses and a student one at that. Looking at her almost flawless creamy skin he wondered idly how old she was - probably only early twenties and therefore probably way too young for him. No, he wasn’t going to chase her and he certainly wasn’t going to steal her. But if she chased him… well that was another matter entirely.

  God, did they even have to go to the party? Couldn’t he just sneak her home in his back pocket for some quiet time? Although knowing women she’d expect him to feed her and he had nothing in the house apart from frozen pizza and baked beans – not a combination known for its romantic properties. He should have stocked up with smoked salmon and champagne, but then again did vegetarians eat fish? How the hell was he meant to find out? He let out a sigh of resignation. Okay he would go to the party, but next time he went shopping he would stock up on cheese and champagne – they ate cheese, right?

  ‘I wasn’t planning to, but as you’ve asked so nicely.’ His voice trailed off at the smile that had appeared on her face, so brief he almost missed it. ‘I can’t go like this though,’ he added, glancing down at the suit he’d worn ever since picking up Liddy all those hours ago. He caught her eye. ‘And of course I now have a cat to check on.’

  ‘Oh, poor little thing - give him a hug from me.’

  Mitch’s eyebrows shot up as he walked towards her, ‘Only if you’ll save me a dance?’

  ‘Only if it’s a slow one!’ She pulled his head down towards hers and planting the briefest of kisses against his lips, even as she turned to follow Sorcha downstairs.

  He just stood there as he watched them race towards the stairs, their heels click clacking against the marble as they went. He stared until they were out of sight, and remained staring - still able to feel the pressure of her kiss against his lips, just as he was still able to smell her subtle scent.

  She’d totally floored him this evening and now he didn’t know what to think. Why the hell did life have to be so complicated, when in fact it should be easy? Man meets woman; man and woman fancy each other; man and woman sneak off and practice making babies. There was nothing wrong with that, was there? Relationships should be like flat pack; come with easy to follow instructions so that you knew which bits fitted where. This thing he had going on with Liddy was far from simple. Did she fancy him - how was he meant to know? One minute she wouldn’t even talk to him and the next she was all over him. Was she looking for a happy ever after, or a night of steamy sex? That question was even more difficult! She walked around dressed like an innocent schoolgirl one minute and a braless starlet the next – yep, he knew he shouldn’t have looked, but as they were on show, so to speak. He moved on to the most difficult question of all. This afternoon she’d embraced Donal like a lover, but just now he could have sworn the kiss she’d given him was chaste. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, and it must be said annoyance at anything and everything female. He’d never understand them; he’d never understand her, so why was he even bothering to try. Perhaps he should give up on love and just build furniture instead - he could do with a few more free standing wardrobes to start with.

  ‘Well what’s gotten into you all of a sudden? That’s more my style than yours. In fact I think I’ll just go back and….’

  ‘Don’t you dare! I was just trying out a little experiment that’s all. Let’s just say he’s off limits as far as you’re concerned – alright!’

  Sorcha put her hand out jerking her to a halt. ‘I don’t know of any experiment that involves kissing hunks.’ She paused before continuing. ‘Liddy you know I’d never do anything to hurt you, don’t you?’

  ‘Er you probably never had Drippy Donal lunging at you then. Look I just had to be sure with Mitch that, well that I fancied him and….’ She tried and failed to prevent the blush of all blushes from staining her cheeks – God, she just knew she shouldn’t have worn blusher. She was going to spend the whole evening looking sunburnt.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And do you have any condoms in your bag?’

  ‘It’s about bloody time, and no I don’t have any condoms in my bag, but I’m sure Mitch will have come prepared.’ She reached up to push Liddy’s hair off her forehead. ‘If you’re that desperate I’ll get you one, but be careful hun – I can’t help thinking I’ve created a monster dressing you up in those clothes.’

  ‘A very happy monster and I’ll be careful; I’m a big girl now.’ She said with a smile.

  ‘That’s what’s worries me! Come on; let’s get this over and done with.’

  As Liddy entered the dimly lit doctor’s residenc
e she started to lose her courage, thankful at least that the darkness would help camouflage her borrowed outfit. She roughly tugged at her tunic in an attempt to cover her hips feeling all eyes were on her. Even though the top was a million times better than the little green dress there was simply not enough fabric for her to hide under.

  Why on earth had she agreed to wear something she really wasn’t comfortable in - she wasn’t Sorcha and never would be no matter how many sexy outfits she wore. Clothes like this took confidence and poise, but she must have been away when they gave that lesson at school.

  She folded her arms across her chest to try and disguise her shape, whilst deciding that never again would she allow someone else to choose her clothes; she felt as if her body was on display for all and sundry to gawp at. She would be the first to admit her usual uniform was boring, but to go from drab to vamp in one day was too much for her to handle. It sounded ridiculous, but she felt she was having withdrawal symptoms from her baggy jeans. It still made her tingle all over to remember the expression on Mitch’s face when he’d seen her all dressed up. How on earth was she expected to cope with the expectations that this change of image brought?

  She’d only been joking about the condoms. She couldn’t see he’d really want to sleep with her – what would be in it for him? There were plenty of prettier and more experienced girls around, whilst her knowledge of sex came from women’s magazines and stray left over comments made by her friends. No, there’d be nothing in it for him other than another notch on his bedpost. In truth all she expected from this evening was a dance and perhaps a couple of kisses in the dark – that would be enough to keep her going. That would be enough until she could invest in a complete image overhaul.

  Whilst she’d begun to accept she couldn’t continue dressing like a teenager she owed it to herself to make the necessary changes slowly so that she could catch up with the consequences. Next time she was in Dunne’s Stores she’d look for a better fitting pair of jeans and perhaps a couple of fitted t-shirts, but with a pretty cardie to wear on top. Then in a few months she might consider something a little more figure hugging, a little more like the green dress and she couldn’t wait to see the expression on his face when she did.

  She pulled at the top, but it was useless – all she seemed to be doing was emphasising instead of disguising anything. She’d be better off leaving Sorcha to her own devices and getting a taxi home. She glanced at her watch, noting that already twenty minutes had sped by. She’d wait another five!

  Even though it was early the lounge was starting to fill up with an assortment of students, doctors and nurses all heading for the innocent looking punch in the corner. With music blaring from all four corners there was no opportunity to do more than shout, which Sorcha now did indicating with her hands that she would get them another drink. But she simply shook her head and went to get a tin of cola from the sparse selection of soft drinks in the corner. As she looked on her friend started talking intently to a red haired man propping up the wall in the corner. Liddy turned her back and, finding a spare seat partially hidden by a large pot plant sat down while she waited for Mitch. She fervently hoped he’d suggest they went somewhere else, somewhere that allowed her to wear a coat or perhaps he’d agree to take her home to change first.

  Suddenly a voice broke into her reverie.

  ‘Hello Liddy.’ As she looked up her eyes locked with brown ones and not the blue that she was expecting. Donal, drat.

  ‘Er, sorry about earlier, I don’t know what came over me.’ He said in an apologetic tone of voice that she could barely hear over the din.

  ‘That’s okay.’ She replied woodenly, wishing that he would just go away before Mitch arrived.

  ‘Would you like to dance?’ He asked. He shifted his eyes downwards to stare openly at the exciting curve of her breasts that no arm could truly conceal. ‘No, thank you.’ She said, when what she wanted to say was

  ‘If you keep your eyes buried in my chest for much longer you’ll be in need of a coffin.’

  He hadn’t got the message earlier, or if he had he certainly wasn’t taking any notice. What would it take for him to realise she couldn’t stand him anywhere near her. She liked him as a friend, but one that kept a two foot distance!

  If it had been anyone else she’d have reported him, but deep down within her heart of hearts she knew he wasn’t a creep - even though he’d given a good impression of being just that. Instead she felt desperately sorry for him. All her friends laughed at him; to his face as well as behind his back – she was the only one that hadn’t and this was her reward! But she knew he wasn’t a creep, just horribly misguided, or should that be misunderstood? She was the only friend he had, the only person who’d ever tried to be nice to him. Well she wasn’t going to be ‘Mr Nice Guy’ anymore; instead she’d try to help him. He didn’t deserve it, but that wasn’t the point. Everyone deserved a second chance; this was going to be his.

  She realised he was still standing there with that silly school boy grin pinned to his face.

  How on earth did she get herself into these situations? If it had been Sorcha she’d have told him straight. She heaved a sigh of irritation - hopefully Mitch would be here soon.

  ‘At least let me get you a refill.’ He said, picking up her empty can and strolling off towards the drinks table before she could open her mouth to refuse. As she sat back closing her eyes in resignation her attention was grabbed by ‘Gangnan Style’ playing in her pocket. With one eye on Donal weaving his way back towards her she pulled out her mobile and glanced down at the number.

  If it was Sorcha she’d kiss her for rescuing her from old faucet lips: if it was her dad she’d kill him, just because he was a complete arse and if it was Mitch…. Well it wouldn’t be him now would it? He didn’t have her number – Yet!

  For once she was more than happy to answer a number she didn’t recognise, even if it was someone from China trying to sell her cheap bicycle insurance.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Oh thank God. I knew I could count on you.’

  ‘Excuse me, who’s speaking please?’

  ‘Oh sorry, this is Sylvia Slater. Look we’ve got a bit of a crisis on here. Two of the night staff have just phoned in with the runs. I know it’s late and you were working earlier but….’

  ‘No, that’s okay Sister. I’ll be up in five minutes.’ She interrupted, just as Donal pulled up a seat.

  ‘Oh thank you, Nurse Murp…Liddy. I won’t forget this.’

  ‘Who was that on the phone?’ He asked, pulling the tab back on his lager.

  ‘Sorry Donal, I have to go. I’ve been called in to work.’ She bent down to pick up her coat and bag from the floor beside her before turning to face him.

  ‘What? The nasty old bag. She’s no right to call you in. When did she last do anyone a favour?’

  ‘It’s alright. She’s not so bad and probably the same age as you come to think of it. With the right clothes and a bit of make-up….’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll buy her a trowel and some Polly filler for Christmas. Liddy, don’t go. I thought we could….’

  But she interrupted him. ’Donal, we’re good friends - right? I really like you but there’s another girl out there for you – It’s not me.’ She leant forward and placed the briefest of kisses against his moist skin, trying not to gag. ‘Be a dear and let Sorcha know - she’s holed up somewhere with that new A&E doctor.’

  ‘It’s that professor isn’t it? If he hadn’t come on the scene I would have been in with a chance.’

  ‘Donal, I do have to go.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mitch sped home, just within the speed limit with the image of Liddy dressed up like a sex kitten imprinted on his vision. Yep, that’s what was worrying him the most, he realised pulling into his drive. He wasn’t going to deny he hadn’t enjoyed the sight of her hidden assets on display. But she’d looked like a six year old that’d been found messing about with her mother’s clothes and make-up all
afternoon: Lovely, but wrong on so many levels. Even the bright red lipstick played false against that milky white skin. He remembered, was it only this morning that he’d thought her quite pretty. He was wrong. She wasn’t pretty, she was beautiful. She was beautiful just as she was without having to try too hard, she was beautiful without having to try at all.

  Making his way up the path the image of her was so real he stumbled. The vamp look was for the likes of Sorcha who could carry it off. He must be mad but he much preferred her relaxed in her ill-fitting jeans than awkward in clingy ones. Whilst it gave him a thrill it was a thrill at her expense.

  Opening the front door he crouched down to prevent any flying cats trying to make a run for it, but of Lucky there was no sign. He wandered from room to room, his footfall echoing on the highly polished floors – he wasn’t joking about the flat pack. He really must make an effort to fill some of the rooms with more furniture. Looking into the lounge for any signs of orange fur he suddenly realised that the room was empty, apart from the wood burning stove, black leather sofa and essential large wall hung TV that is. He hadn’t really noticed before, but if he invited Liddy around she would find it sadly lacking. Perhaps he should buy a couple more chairs and maybe a handful of cushions to liven it up. He even had a room full of unpacked boxes still to open, but there’d been little point up until now. He ran his hand across the back of his neck in confusion. He was a typical bloke when it came to decorating in that if he had a chair to sit in and a TV to watch the footie he was happy, but any woman he’d ever met had always wanted to stuff the place full of matching cushions.