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Socialite...Or Nurse In A Million?
Socialite...Or Nurse In A Million?

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Socialite...Or Nurse In A Million?

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2018
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CHAPTER FOUR

THE next morning Miguel strode through the front doors of the clinic, which were already unlocked, and past a waiting room full of patients. Dammit. He was late. After a restless night filled with unwanted and haunting dreams, he’d finally fallen into a deep sleep just before dawn and had apparently slept right through his alarm.

He strode to the nurses’ station and shoved his hair back from his face. “Sorry, Tilly. Who do we have up first?” Trying to calm his irritation, he didn’t want to be rattled when seeing patients. He could miss potential signs of illness if he were distracted. He couldn’t allow himself even that small lapse. Someone’s health, or life, could depend on it.

“First three rooms are full, Carlos is checking vitals and Vicky is triaging the next few,” Tilly said, and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Relax, mijo. She’s good and the world hasn’t ended because you were five minutes late.”

“Okay.” Miguel let out a relieved breath. “Thanks, Tilly. You’re a gem.”

She cackled and returned to the computer screen. “More like a diamond stuck in the rough.”

Still a little rattled, Miguel tended to his first two patients, with Carlos assisting. The third patient was going to require some labs and a chest X-ray that they couldn’t do in the clinic. He’d have Vicky fill out the proper forms and send him to the lab and then radiology department.

The second he stepped out from the lengthy patient exam in room three, his mouth began to water, and he stopped in the doorway.

“You okay, Doc?” Carlos asked.

Miguel’s gaze darted around the area. “What do I smell?”

With a chuckle Carlos clapped Miguel on the arm then pulled him out of the doorway so the patient could leave. “That would be coffee, my friend.” Carlos pulled in a deep breath and sighed as if sniffing ambrosia.

“I know it’s coffee. Why is it here, and why does it smell like that?” he asked, still stunned at the fragrance and his visceral reaction to it.

“Thanks to our new BFF, Vicky, we now have coffee for everyone. Really good coffee, too!” He laughed and led the way to a shiny new machine that emitted the most divine odor he’d ever smelled in this clinic.

Vicky stood beside three cases of prepackaged coffee. “I hope it’s okay here. This way both the staff and patients can help themselves.” Obviously pleased with the arrangement, the smile she gave was radiant.

Unfortunately, Miguel was about to wipe the smile right off of her face. “You have to send it back. I’m sorry, but I believe we talked yesterday about the budget shortfalls. We simply can’t afford the luxury.” He cleared his throat. “No matter what you’re used to, around here money is tight and there are no unilateral decisions made.”

As they spoke, an elderly patient walked by with a cup of the steaming brew in his hand. “Thanks for the coffee, miss. I sure needed a cup today.” He continued on his way, oblivious to the conversation around him.

“But—”

“I’m sorry, Vicky. We can’t have it.”

“But—” she tried again.

“No. We can’t do without medical supplies for the luxury of coffee.”

Now Vicky’s smile turned into an angry stare. “Your next three patients are in rooms four through six.” She picked up her clipboard and entered the triage area again.

“You should listen to her, man. It’s not what you think. She did a good thing for everyone.” Carlos moved forward to assist a woman juggling her purse and a walker. “Let me help you with that,” Carlos said to the woman, but kept his eyes on Miguel. He jerked his head in Vicky’s direction and frowned at Miguel.

With a sigh, he waited until Vicky returned from the triage area. She avoided eye contact with him and walked briskly past. Damn. Late for work and now he’d offended his brand-new nurse. Could the day get any worse? “Vicky? Can I see you for a moment?” He led the way to the staff lounge and waited until she entered behind him then shut the door.

“What is it, Doctor? I have patients to see,” she said, the fire still in her eyes.

“Despite my misgivings, Carlos tells me there’s more to the coffee story than I know.” He hated even starting this conversation, but the day was already shot to hell. One more delay wasn’t going to make it any worse. Carlos had never led him astray. Yet.

“Yes, there is.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him.

She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, and he supposed he deserved her irritation for not listening to her in the first place. In his experience, his worst-case scenario was usually right. “Will you please tell me?”

“It’s simple. Happy patients come back, and they tell their friends about the place that made them happy. A little gesture like free coffee goes a long way in public relations. You can’t put a value on word-of-mouth advertising. It’s priceless. You may not think much of me, but I know that to be a fact.”

“I know all of that, but—”

“So I called a friend of mine that I went to high school with. He owns a coffee delivery service.”

“But—”

“And I talked him into making a charitable donation to the clinic for the tax write-off. He was pleased with my suggestion.” She turned away and reached for the door.

In a split second, before he could even think about what he was doing, Miguel reached over her head and slammed the door shut, trapping her between the door and his body.

With a gasp she whirled and raised her face to his, only inches away. “Open this door.”

“No. Not until you listen to me.”

“You didn’t listen to me. Why should I listen to you now?” She continued to glare up at him, and he could see every speck, every detail of the irises of her eyes, and the way the pupils changed.

“I’m not letting you out of here until you let me apologize.” Though it nearly choked him to say it, it was the right thing to do.

Surprise covered her face for an unguarded second, and her pupils dilated at the rush of pleasure his words caused. When her lips parted, they drew his attention. If he were a different man in a different situation, he wouldn’t have hesitated to close the gap between them and find out how soft her lips were. If he were a different man, he’d take her in his arms and press her length against his. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. He couldn’t.

When she blinked and looked at him with a softening in her expression that made him want more than anything to take that step, he choked down that feeling of want that she unknowingly stirred in him. The muscles in his arms trembled from the effort of holding himself back. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he began to lean forward, began to make that move toward her. Something in him held back and he froze.

They remained locked in that position for a few more seconds until Miguel slid his hand down the door to the knob. If he didn’t hold on to something he was going to make a move he’d likely regret.

“I’m sorry, Vicky. I should have listened to you before I jumped to conclusions. I was irritated at being late and starting out the day so far behind in patients. It won’t happen again, I promise.” He took a step back from her and drew in a deep breath, shaken by the memories that statement roused. “I overslept this morning, which always puts me in a foul mood.”

“I accept your apology, but the coffee situation is totally your fault.”

“What?” Now that certainly got his attention. “How?”

“After you fixed my car with the plunger, you said that when working around here you had to be creative.” She let out a small laugh and the tension visibly left her shoulders. “After that awful coffee you made me yesterday, I decided to get creative with that first.” A shrug lifted her shoulders. “Didn’t hurt to ask my friend, you know?”

A grin split Miguel’s face and he relaxed, too. “Okay. I’ll take responsibility for that.”

A light rap on the door made them both jump, as if they had been guilty of doing something other than talking.

“We’ve got patients out here,” Carlos said through the door.

“Oh, dear.” Vicky pulled the door open and nearly collided with the assistant. “Sorry, Carlos. We had to get something straightened out.”

“Yeah. And thanks for the coffee,” he said. “Everybody loves it.”

“That’s great.”

“Think you could do something about doughnuts next?” The young man grinned and raced off to collect the next patient.

Vicky laughed. “He’s a great kid, isn’t he?” she asked Miguel as they left the lounge.

“He is. I hope he stays.”

“Why wouldn’t he stay?”

“He’s got bigger dreams than this clinic. At this point he thinks he wants to be a doctor. He’s got a long road ahead, if he really pursues it.” Miguel sighed, having already walked the path that Carlos wanted to take.

“You did it, why couldn’t Carlos?” she asked. “Seriously. There’s the state-funded lottery program he could apply for. As long as he graduated from high school, it’s guaranteed for college, right?”

“Yes. I just hope he doesn’t get … distracted.” The way his brother had, which had led to his demise.

“Well, guess we need to get back to the patients for now, and work on Carlos’s future later, right?”

“Yes.” He was pleased that they had solved the issue so quickly and so well and were right back to their professional roles. Contacting a coffee service for a donation wasn’t something that would have occurred to him. Maybe someone who came from a different background could be beneficial to the clinic. Time would tell.

“Why don’t you try the coffee?” she asked, and poured him a cup which he accepted, his fingers brushing over hers.

“I’m afraid my taste buds might keel over from exposure to real flavor,” he said, but took a sip anyway. He groaned in reluctant delight. “Be sure to thank your friend for me. This is fabulous.”

Vicky flushed with pleasure at his reaction. No man in her life had ever been as satisfied with something as simple as a cup of coffee. “I will.” She dashed off into a patient room.

CHAPTER FIVE

ONLY after Vicky got home that evening did she allow herself to relive the moments when Miguel had trapped her in the lounge. She’d been horribly angry at him. At first it had seemed that he was treating her exactly the same way her father and brothers did, as if she didn’t have a brain in her head. The same way her ex-husband had treated her. But then Miguel had changed and listened to her. He had been so close, so masculine, so very attractive and totally off-limits. He’d said it would never happen again. That’s what had dissolved her anger. She wanted to believe him, but trust came so hard to her. After the life-changing experience with her former husband, trust was not something she handed out like candies. She’d put her trust and faith in a man, supposedly for the remainder of her life, and with that weapon he’d turned her world upside down.

Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to take the image further than it had gone in the lounge. If she had raised her face just right, if he had reached out just so, it would only have taken an inch or two before their lips had met. Vicky melted into the dream for a second, wondering just what a kiss with Dr. Torres would be like.

The phone rang and she jumped, and the fantasy spiraled away. Before picking up the phone, she checked the caller ID. It was her brother, Edward.

“Hey, Eddy.”

“You’re the only one in the world that calls me that, you know.”

She heard the affectionate irritation in his voice, and she smiled. “That’s ‘cos I’m your little sister. You’ll always be Eddy to me, no matter how successful you are as a big-shot designer.”

“Just, please, don’t call me that around anyone in the business. I’d never live it down.”

“Hey, I just had an idea. You could create a whole new line of clothing for kids called Eddy Wear, or something like that.” How strange. That idea had never occurred to her before and a little bubble of pleasure rippled through her. Then she bit her lip, waiting for his response. He’d never taken suggestions from her before, so why would he now?

He chuckled. “That’s funny, Victoria.” He chuckled again. “Really funny, but I’ll have to think about that one, if you don’t mind.”

She mentally sighed, knowing that she would always be the little sister with ideas that never went anywhere to him. “So, what’s up? Why are you calling? I know it wasn’t to get fashion advice.”

“You are so right. I was wondering if you’d like to come to a little dinner engagement with me.”

Another sigh escaped her. He always called on her when he needed a date. He was married to his design business, jetting off for meetings and shows in New York and Europe, so dating was a chore for him. “What, when, where and all that stuff?”

Edward gave her the details, and she checked her calendar. Two weeks’ time on a Friday night. She certainly didn’t have a date either. “Sure.”

“Great! I’ll send a few new designs for you to choose from, and the limo will pick you up at six-thirty.” Always one to take advantage of publicity opportunities, Eddy insisted that she wear his designs at these outings of his and anytime they were at an event together. Fortunately, nothing was indecent or had too many frills, and always complimented her figure, so how could she argue with that?

“Will Daddy be there?” She hated asking that, but it was better for her to be prepared with her Victoria face on when he was near. That mantle she wore helped to protect her emotions from the pain that usually ensued. When she was unprepared, he always seemed to hurt her with his judgments and opinions of her life. Being on guard and prepared around him took the sting out of some of his comments.

“No, Charles was invited but has another engagement.” For whatever reason, Eddy always called their father by his given name. “Secretly, I think he’s seeing someone and doesn’t want us to know about it,” Eddy said in a dramatic whisper.

“Why not, for heaven’s sake? We’re adults, and Mother died a very long time ago.” Perhaps if he had a romantic diversion, he’d take things easier on her. Running her life seemed to be a hobby for him, and he definitely could use some distraction.

“I think that he thinks that we think he’s being disloyal to her memory by getting involved with someone, and you know how he is about loyalty.”

Vicky could imagine the eye-roll that Eddy put on just then, and she laughed. “I do indeed.” It was part of the reason they had fought so much when she had declared her major in college. She wanted to leave the family business behind for a hands-on career. It was the only battle she’d ever won with her father, but he’d by no means forgotten about it. He was so much prouder of his two sons than of his daughter, whom he viewed as a failure. Failed marriage, failed career, failed daughter.

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