The Boss and Nurse Albright

She covered her eyes and grimaced. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.” He looked uncomfortable, his teasing stance having vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Please.” They shared a gaze, and she instinctively knew he’d meant no harm. “I’ve botched things up, I see.” He scratched the side of his mouth. “I guess I’m out of practice.”

“No,” she said, lifting the hat even as her cheeks heated to what she assumed to be bright red. “This is very funny. Really.”

On an awkward note, he tipped his head and went to his office.

Claire had to give him credit for trying to act like a regular person instead of a recluse. In fact it touched her. She collapsed into her chair and continued blushing for a few more moments, but decided her embarrassment was worth it to see Jason Rogers’s gorgeous smile.

And, to remind her he had a sense of humor, she hung the beekeeper’s hat on the antique coat rack in the corner of her office.

The next day, to her surprise, Jason personally escorted one of his patients to her New Diabetic Class.

“This is Leona Willis,” he said, assisting the middleaged lady to sit. “I think she can use a refresher course on diabetic care.”

This was a change. Jason had specifically told Claire to keep away from his patients, and here he was delivering one to her. She smiled at the new student, and then at Jason, and felt a mild blush dance across her cheeks, which seemed far too much like it was becoming a routine. He seemed to hesitate before walking backwards to the door with an odd expression in his eyes. It made her pause to remember what she’d been talking about. “Where were we?” she asked the class.

“The importance of eating several small meals a day,” one craggy old gent replied.

Claire nodded and, instead of concentrating on the subject, took one brief moment to ponder the fact that Jason seemed to be reaching out to her as one professional to another. The thought buoyed her spirit and set the tone for the rest of her day.

One week of truce with Jason had made working at the MidCoast Medical Center so much more bearable for Claire, yet she was still antsy about her first administrative board meeting. Jason couldn’t have chosen a worse night. Monday was the one night this week her childcare provider couldn’t keep Gina past six p.m. And the meeting was scheduled for six-thirty.

René had arranged for dinner to be delivered, but Claire brought a special kiddie meal for Gina at the local organic market. She tried to set it up as a “treat”, telling her how she’d get to have her very own picnic while the grown-ups had their meeting. Gina didn’t seem too impressed. Running a bit late, Claire gritted her teeth and pushed through the clinic’s kitchen door with her daughter toddling beside her.

The others, Phil, Jon, René and Jason, were already seated and passing around their individual reports.

“I’m so sorry to have to bring Gina tonight.” She glanced around the room for sympathy and understanding and found it with everyone except Jason, who’d made a merely tolerable glance her way. “Babysitter problems,” she said.

Claire situated Gina in the corner with a few books and small toys, then opened and served her dinner after washing the child’s hands with disposable wipes. “Be a good girl for Mommy, OK?” She tried not to plead but, depending on Gina’s mood, her personality could range from introspective to gregarious, and there was usually no warning which way the wind would blow.

As the meeting went on, Claire got a glimpse at how the clinic ran through spending reports from Jason, trends in ailments from Jon, recommendations on being more efficient from René, and meeting the Occupational Health and Safety standards for clinic care from Phil. Just as Claire prepared to give her report, Gina decided she’d had enough self-entertainment.

She brought her favorite book and plopped it on the table next to Claire. “Read me,” she said.

“Mommy can’t right now. I have to work.”

Instead of fretting, Gina picked up the book and went back to her assigned corner.

Claire took a deep breath and prayed she’d stay there.

“OK,” Claire said. “Rene asked me to talk a bit about CAM-complementary/alternative medicine—and its prevalence of use amongst our client population. My statistics show that thirty to forty percent of the general population is using or has used some form of herbal compound in the past year.”

Gina stood and opened her book. “Thnow White and the theven dorfs,” she recited aloud to the wall.

René and Phil tried not to snicker.

Claire swallowed and continued. “I feel it is very important to identify which of our patients are using these herbal medications. Many patients think of them as dietary supplements or natural health products, not medicine.”

“Onth upon a time,” Gina recited as she paced back and forth in a similar fashion as her mother, pretending to read from the page. “A printhess had to run away from her meanie tep-mommy.” She turned the page with great flair.

“Gina, honey, can you wait until later to read your book out loud?”

“Can she read already?” Jon asked.

Not wanting to pop Gina’s bubble, Claire shook her head surreptitiously and mouthed no. “She’s working on it,” she said, with sing-song optimism for Gina to hear. “Wait until later, OK, honey?”

The child turned to the wall and continued to “read” the story in a whisper.

Phil grinned, and René mouthed “aw”. Claire nervously glanced at Jason and, instead of finding a scowl, she noticed one corner of his mouth edged up into an almost-grin.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated to everyone.

“Not a problem,” Jon said. “Continue with your report.”

She raised her voice and rushed through her carefully planned presentation, hoping her daughter wouldn’t make any more disruptions. Claire had run down the list of herbal compounds most frequently used, and had offered her theory why patients failed to report the medication to their care providers, when Gina grew louder.

“Who is the faw-wist of them all!”

Even Jason snorted a laugh this time. He stood, and Claire figured she’d never get her chance to propose her clinic-wide survey. But, instead of suggesting the meeting be adjourned, he walked over to Gina and crouched beside her. Claire blinked, thinking she was imagining things.

“Hey, squirt, I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “I’ll read that book to you if you’ll sit quietly for just a few more minutes. What do you say?”

Amazingly, Gina didn’t cower or get embarrassed, as she so easily did with her father when he reprimanded her. “’Kay.”

Jason nodded, stood and went back to his seat. Gina followed him, something he obviously hadn’t planned on. Surprise widened his eyes when she brought the book to the table and crawled up into his lap. Without saying a word, he helped her get settled and, when Gina was sufficiently at ease, he nodded to Claire to continue as if a minor miracle hadn’t just occurred.

Claire cleared her throat and said, “I would like to conduct a clinic-wide survey of our patients to find out who is taking which herbs. If you’ll look at the handout, you’ll see I’ve named the ten most widely used herbal supplements and identified the potential drug interactions, some of which can be life-threatening. I believe it is imperative that we know every pill our patients are taking.”

The group of doctors seemed impressed with Claire’s suggestions, and began a lively discussion of how to go about surveying their entire patient population. Claire noticed that Jason lightly stroked Gina’s curls as he read each handout.

The man had never looked more natural. Or relaxed.

His unconscious gesture did wonders for Gina, too. The child had fallen asleep.

Fifteen minutes later, the meeting came to an end. After gathering all the reports and putting them into her briefcase, Claire glanced at Jason. She caught him studying Gina’s slack mouth with a melancholy gaze. It made her chest squeeze.

He was a father. She knew it. But where was his family?

She leaned over to retrieve her daughter. ‘Thank you,” she mouthed.

“No problem,” he said with a muted voice. But the torn look on his face contradicted his words. Somehow she knew holding her daughter hadn’t been easy for him, and she instinctively knew she owed him a huge favor.

When Claire picked up Gina, she automatically woke up. “Man read,” she said, rubbing her eyes and kicking her feet. Oh, not now. Please don’t throw a fit, child.

Claire glanced at Jason, who had a soft but distant look in his eyes.

“I did make her a promise,” he said, lifting the storybook.

Relieved, Claire delivered Gina back to his lap and the child settled in immediately, ready for her story. As though he’d read a million children’s books, Jason began. “Once upon a time…”

As Jason read to Gina, Claire helped René gather up the take-out cartons and wash the flatware. She caught Rene’s marveling glance, then nodded in agreement when she mouthed “wow”. She kept busy, collected Gina’s toys and books and carried everything to her car. She was on her way back into the clinic when Jason met her halfway down the walk. He carried Gina down the steps and hoisted her into her car seat expertly.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Rogers,” Claire said.

“Call me Jason, will you?”

A look passed between them that said so much more than “truce”. For the first time since she’d been working in the new job, Claire felt she belonged. And Jason had shown the first signs of crawling out of his cave.

Jason watched Claire and Gina drive off. The wrenching pain in his chest made it hard to breathe. He’d paid a price for holding that child. Memories of cuddling Hanna had been dredged up from their carefully fortified cave: the softness of her hair, the perfection of her complexion.

He couldn’t go on like this.

He clenched his jaw and watched the taillights turn the corner. He wanted to hit something. To take a sledgehammer and bash to smithereens the tomb that kept his daughter and wife from him.

That woman and her child had gotten under his skin, had forced him to feel things—things he never wanted to experience again. Feelings he couldn’t bear.

The damp night air enveloped him as he bit his lip and paced against the torment.

Chapter Three

TUESDAY morning, Claire passed the mock-up version of the patient herbal survey to Phil Hanson as he sat in his office. She’d stayed up past midnight putting it together. Aside from his medical school and specialty certificates framed on the walls, there were several surfing trophies and photographs of him with his board. His laid back attitude often carried over into his clothes, and today he wore a Hawaiian patterned tie with a pale blue denim shirt.

“Looks good,” he said. His thick wavy hair appeared to only have been finger combed, yet he still managed to pull off a charming air. She wondered why he wasn’t married, then remembered René had commented he was a happy and confirmed bachelor.

“What looks good?” Jason’s deep voice came from over her shoulder.

It almost made her jump. She turned and found she was the closest she’d ever been to him, but the doorframe kept her from stepping back. His face was freshly shaven and he smelled of sandalwood and citrus, which tickled her senses. Though his hair was neatly trimmed, the longer top part had fallen across his forehead. She fought the urge to sweep it aside. Up close, his gray eyes had tiny flecks of blue in them, and they looked kinder than she’d thought. Or maybe that was because she’d seen him in a new light last night. After he’d read to Gina, her daughter had talked about him the entire ride home, until she’d fallen asleep.

“Well?” Jason said.

“Oh. The herbal survey. Here’s a copy for your approval,” she said, handing the pages to him.

He avoided her gaze, studying the paper instead. In contrast to Phil, his stiff collared white shirt hugged his tanned neck, and he’d made a perfect knot with his drab tie. Someone needed to brighten this guy’s wardrobe up, but it wouldn’t be her.

After her disastrous marriage, she wanted nothing to do with men. In her time of greatest need, she’d been kicked to the curb by her husband. Hadn’t the wedding vows said “In sickness and in health”?

“Looks good to me, too.” Jason handed the survey back and continued down the hall and up the stairs. His dark gray, perfectly tailored silk suit molded well to his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

Phil cleared his throat. Claire snapped back to the task at hand, and retrieved the survey from the doctor. He had a funny look in his eyes, as if he’d caught Claire ogling Dr. Rogers, which may have been the case but she hadn’t meant to be so obvious. Her cheeks heated up and she made a quick getaway.

In a room of men, most women would notice Phil Hanson first, with his striking good looks and surfer boy features. But Dr. Rogers had a subtle solid handsomeness that caused her eyes to linger. After swearing off the entire gender, she wondered why she was suddenly comparing the men she worked with.

Claire shook her head, and strode to the receptionist’s desk for the list of patient addresses.

“We’ll need eight thousand surveys to go out,” Gaby, the receptionist, said.

“Wow, this is a bigger practice than I thought.” Drs. Munroe and Becker had already approved the survey. Now she had Phil and Jason’s blessing, too, so it was just a matter of mailing it.

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