With a Little T.L.C.

If she was bitchy or nasty, he could get mad and fight down and dirty. But her manner was conversational. Light and breezy. This was one for the books—Nurse Ratchett with overtones of Tinkerbell. Her good nature was infectious even while she was tossing verbal barbs his way. She’d lobbed him so many backhanded compliments, he felt like a tennis player. How could he defend himself against that?

He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “I suppose you could describe me as relationship challenged,” he said. “I prefer that to stupid.”

“So being relationship challenged has set in since Trish Hudson?”

Joe remembered his short acquaintance with the nurse. Something about her had put him off and he’d ended things with her in a straightforward way. “What about her?”

“Didn’t you date?”

“We went out a couple times,” he answered carefully.

“What happened?” Liz seemed tense, as if she was ready to pounce on his response.

He was no stranger to the need for diplomacy in employee relations. Liz and Trish worked in the same hospital. Just because he’d ended things on account of the negative vibes she’d given off, there was no need to spread that to her co-workers. “Things just didn’t work out,” he finally said.

“So that’s what you call it?” she asked, an edge to her voice.

“What?” he asked, honestly at a loss.

“Never mind.” She stared at the water for a few moments before asking, “Relationship challenged? Does that mean you don’t fool around?” she asked skeptically.

“I used to. Not anymore.”

“And you don’t flirt?”

“Flirt is a relative term. I’m a people person. Friendly. It’s a management style. An asset for the Human Resources Director of Marchetti’s, Inc.”

“There are assets, and then there are assets. In your position, you get to scope out the territory right off the bat.”

“What does that mean?” he asked sharply.

“You can check out every new female employee.”

“Red light,” he said, shaking his head. “No way. It’s my job to make sure that kind of thing doesn’t happen. We stop short of restricting employee fraternization. But it’s strongly discouraged.”

“That could explain why you’re a volunteer.”

He wondered what she meant by that—nothing good probably. Watching her for a moment, he tried to figure out why he cared whether or not she thought badly of him.

Tamping down his annoyance he said, “Does the phrase ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’ mean anything to you?”

“Have you ever heard ‘if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it must be a duck’?” He stared at her for a few moments and she said, “What?”

“I’m just trying to figure out when I quacked or waddled. What behavior have I exhibited to make you think so poorly of me?”

“The very first time I met you, you were trying to impress me with your charm.”

“And you nearly ripped my ear off. Apparently my technique could use some fine tuning. Or I need a brush-up course.”

She shook her head. “Don’t waste your time on my account. I’m immune.”

No kidding, he thought. The question was why?

He wiped his hands on a napkin. “Turnabout is fair play and I’ve been getting a grilling that would do the CIA proud. Let me ask you something.”

“Fair enough. Shoot,” she said, chewing contentedly.

“How long have you been divorced?”

She almost choked. “What makes you think that?”

“You have a chip on your shoulder the size of Texas. You camouflage it pretty well with humor. But you’ve got some baggage, lady.”

Her eyes widened, and he expected her to dispute his words. But she only said, “Thankfully it wasn’t a nasty divorce. One would have to be married first.” She fiddled with her sandwich wrapping. “I’m proud to say, I’ve never had that pleasure. I’m single and satisfied and plan to stay that way.”

“Then someone dumped on you.”

“You think? What was your first clue?”

“Because you’re wary. Of men. You don’t get that way without some help. And I’m paying the price for what some other guy did.”

He knew he’d hit close to the mark when she looked away. Watching her profile, he could see her jaw clench.

“I’m not wary of men,” she finally said. “I just have a problem with the ones who don’t play by the rules.”

“And you think I fall into that category?”

“The first time we met you threatened to pick me up bodily and lock me in the broom closet. If I recall correctly, your exact words were that visiting hours were for everyone but you.”

“I was kidding about the broom closet.”

“I know. But not about breaking the rules.”

“Cut me some slack, Nurse Ratchett. My baby sister had just had a baby. First one in the family. I wanted to spend some time with her.”

“And you think you’re the only new uncle who feels that way? Picture what would happen if everyone acted the way you did.”

“The obstetrics wing would be full of lots of happy uncles.”

“Probably. Followed quickly by anarchy and chaos.” She shook her head. “Not on my watch. Mothers and babies at risk? Completely unacceptable. It’s my job to keep order.”

Joe couldn’t help admiring the fact that she took her job seriously. Protecting new mothers and babies. Patients in her care were lucky. He had a feeling anyone she cared about would be lucky. But there was a protective shield around her, emotionally speaking, and he wondered why she worked so hard at keeping it in place.

“The fact that I’m volunteering at the hospital does nothing to alter your opinion of me?”

“It would if I didn’t get the feeling that on the heels of your good deed was a rule waiting to be broken. Or a skirt waiting to be chased, so to speak.”

“Why would you think that?”

“By the time I’d met you twice, you were coming on to three different women.” She held up her hand and started counting on her fingers. “There was the blonde I saw you with when you visited your sister in the hospital, Trish Hudson, and Abby, the woman you practically stood up because you got sidetracked scoping out the volunteer program.”

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘benefit of the doubt’?” he asked wryly.

“Yes. But I can’t help feeling that you don’t know the meaning of the word longevity or sincerity. And your heart is a revolving door. I’m sorry, but based on what I’ve seen it’s hard for me to believe your motivation is anything but self-serving.”

Joe considered himself a pretty easygoing guy. From the moment he’d walked into her office, he’d taken it in the shorts from Nurse Ratchett without fighting back. No more Mr. Nice Guy. It was time to set the record straight.

He rolled his sandwich wrapping into a ball and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Then he turned to Liz.

“All right,” he said seriously. “You win. I’ll tell you my ulterior motive.”

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