Flirting with the Society Doctor / When One Night Isn't Enough (37 page)

After a while she sagged against him.

“Come on.” He released one of his arms and shifted so the other landed on her shoulder. “You need to lie down.” He guided her toward her bedroom.

From under the covers she asked, “Would you stay for a …?” He didn’t wait for her to finish before he lay down on top of the comforter, cuddled in behind her and draped his arm across her belly. He held his family in his arms, and never wanted to let them go.

“Few minutes?” she said on a relaxing breath.

For the rest of their lives. Because that’s what a man did when he loved a woman. He took care of her, gave her what she needed, within the law, of course.

And he did love Ali. She was his first thought in the morning and his last at night. She filled his drab life with color and cured the numbness that had taken hold deep inside him. She awakened his emotions, and although he didn’t always like all the things she made him feel, she’d brought him back to life, gave him hope for the future. But only if she and their baby were a willing part of it.

For that to happen he’d need to find a job close by and a place for them to live.

O
N
M
ONDAY
morning Ali stopped by the grocery store to pick up some healthy food to stock in Gramps’s fridge and pantry. Then she went to his house to clean out the junk food and put fresh sheets on his bed in preparation for his return home that afternoon. But when she arrived at the hospital to pick him up she learned he’d accepted Mrs. Meyer’s invitation to recuperate at her house. After Gramps’s show in the CCU, Ali anticipated a long convalescence.

On Wednesday, Ali worked her second shift in a row on 5E. Around lunchtime, she hung up the phone at the nurses’ station and turned to Nora—the unit secretary. “Transport is backed up. Radiology can take Mr. Clemmons if I bring him right now. While I’m down there I’m going to run to the cafeteria to pick up some lunch. All my patients have eaten except for 504B, who’s down at PT. His tray is in his room. I’m expecting a post-op. If the recovery room calls, tell them I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

Nora nodded. “I’ll call Roxie if any of your patients buzz.”

Ali pushed a wheelchair into Mr. Clemmons’s room. The frail, elderly man sat in the same chair where she’d set him up for lunch. “It’s time for your chest X-ray, Mr. Clemmons.”

She helped him up and to the bathroom. While he was
in there, she took his red and navy plaid robe out of his closet and handed it in through the door. “You’d better put this on. It gets cold down there.”

“Thank you, Allison.”

He shuffled out of the bathroom and Ali waited while he settled himself into the wheelchair. She placed a light blanket over his legs then combed his hair. “I don’t know why you bother,” he said. “I’m old and I’m dying of lung cancer. Who cares what I look like?”

“I care, Mr. Clemmons. Your wife and children care.” She pushed the wheelchair out of his room and down the hall toward the elevators. “Your doctor was pleased with the outcome of your surgery. She says she may discharge you home tomorrow. And if you don’t shave that overgrowth of whiskers hiding your smile before the end of my shift tonight, I’m going to shave them for you.”

“I’ll think about it.” He tried to sound gruff, but he was a sweet old man.

“While you’re considering it, you may want to swing by the nurses’ station and talk to Nora at the desk. She keeps a picture of the last man I tried to shave in her drawer. It isn’t pretty.”

She saw his smile in the metallic reflection of the elevator door.

After parking Mr. Clemmons in the Radiology waiting area and handing his chart to the receptionist, Ali headed for the cafeteria.

Déjà vu.

While in line for the cashier, a yogurt in one hand a banana in the other, Ali spied Jared sitting at a table in the far corner. A nurse she didn’t recognize carried her lunch tray in his direction.

Look away.

Not likely.

With morbid curiosity she watched, surprised to see Jared shake his head when the nurse reached to pull out the chair across from him. After a brief conversation she walked to a different table. As she sat, she whispered furiously to the six women huddled around her.

Unfazed, Jared went back to reading his magazine.

Ali’s heart lifted. It shouldn’t matter that he’d turned the woman away, but it did. She shouldn’t still want him, but she did.
I don’t know how the future will turn out. But I’m here now.

She paid the cashier and found herself walking toward his table. She hadn’t seen him since he’d held her in his arms, for what seemed like hours. They’d barely spoken during that time. “Hi,” she said when she reached him.

His eyes lit up. “How are you?”

Sad. Lonely. Confused. Scared about the future. “Better.” She forced a smile. “Are you turning away all company?”

“Never yours.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “But in the interest of full disclosure, I told that nurse I’d rather she not sit with me because I’m involved with someone who’s extremely jealous and I didn’t want to have to deal with the fallout. If you share my table she, and all the women she’s chattering to, will assume it’s you.”

Ali pulled out a chair and sat. “In a few months, when I’m big and fat, they’ll be talking about us anyway.” She didn’t plan to broadcast her child’s paternity, but she wouldn’t keep it a secret either.

He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “You won’t be fat. You’ll be rounded and I anticipate even more beautiful than you are right now.”

Sweet-talker. “I’ll have stretch marks, swollen ankles and a puffy face. My back will ache, my boobs will balloon until they look ready to pop and I’ll probably
complain nonstop. Be glad you won’t be here to witness the transformation.”

She’d meant to keep things light, to show him she was fine with him leaving. But hurt flashed in his eyes.

“I’m trying to—”

“Please don’t,” Ali interrupted him. “I don’t want you trying to do anything as far as I’m concerned. I want a clean break. It’s the only way I can do this. Shoot.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to go.” She stood. “I have a patient waiting in Radiology.”

Jared stood. “I’ll walk you.”

“No.”

Ali turned and hurried to the stairwell. As she climbed the steps she recalled the infrequent, awkward visits with her father, a man she barely knew.
“You remember Daddy. Go give him a kiss. No, you can’t go to Sara’s house. Daddy’s coming to visit. And you’d better be on your best behavior.”

Missed birthdays. Broken promises. Hurt feelings. Ali would not allow her child to suffer the same fate. And she refused to turn out like her mother, pining for a man who didn’t love her. Jared needed to leave. It was best for her and her baby.

On Friday afternoon Jared wondered how a day could go from a perfect ten to a minus five all in the course of a few hours. Sitting in the chair behind his desk, he took a few minutes to revisit the high and low points so far:

Local job: looking good.

Local house: working on it.

Ali: still talking to him.

It was a start.

It was Community General all over again—staff judging him on hearsay, not interested in learning the truth. It
rankled that people were so quick to think him capable of breaking the law, of consorting with a low-life drug dealer.

Someone knocked on his door. Tani called out, “Medical director on line two.”

Probably calling to give Jared the bad news.
In light of the damaging rumors upsetting the staff, we feel hiring you would be too disruptive to the working environment of the E.R.

“Tell him I’ll call him back.”

For the next two hours Jared immersed himself in work, ignored the stares, the whispered comments and sudden silence when he entered a room. Every E.R. bed was filled with patients ranging from an infected fingernail to a traumatic amputation of an arm. No sooner did he discharge one patient, the stretcher was wiped down, the sheets changed and another was brought in. The hustle kept his mind occupied.

Sometime around three o’clock, Tani said, “The medical director called again and lunch is in your office.”

“I don’t have time to eat right now.” He handed Tani a file. “Exam Room Three, Bed Two needs an X-ray of the left distal radius.”

“Make time,” Tani said, taking the file. “I’ll call this into Radiology.”

“I have to …”

When he tried to walk away, Tani reached out and grabbed his arm. “Ali’s been waiting for over an hour.”

Ali? The bottom dropped out of his world. He’d been so wrapped up in himself and his work, he’d completely forgotten about Ali. Stupid. His heart slammed against his ribs. Had she heard? Of course she had. Was she here to tell him off for not being honest with her? Again? Would she stand by him or leave him to fend for himself like
his mother and Cici had? Would she believe he had been wrongly accused or look at him with disdain like other members of the staff? Would she use this to try to push him out of her life for good?

The acid in his stomach churned.

Walking the short distance to his office, Jared felt like a man on trial for murder about to enter the courtroom to hear the verdict.

She sat in the chair opposite his desk, wearing a pair of tight-fitting dark blue jeans, black boots and a red pullover sweater. She was so intent on looking out the window into the parking lot, she jumped when he opened the door.

He stood in the doorway, not sure if it was safe to go in any farther.

Her face showed no emotion. “Tani said you haven’t eaten. I brought you lunch.” She held out a deli wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water.

Food was good. Thoughtful. He relaxed a little, took a few steps and allowed the door to close behind him. “Thanks.”

“Are there any other secrets you’re holding on to? Because it’s pretty obvious they’re all going to come out eventually, and I’d just as soon get everything out in the open now rather than later.”

Was that sarcasm in her voice? He could handle sarcasm. “This is the last one.”

She stood, her blue eyes filled with caring and concern, not disappointment and disbelief. He let out the breath he’d been holding.

“You look like you could use a hug.” She walked to him, and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest.

Jared hugged her back like his life depended on her closeness. Maybe it did.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, locked in an embrace, in complete silence, unconcerned with the noises outside his office door. But it was long enough to rejuvenate him, to make him confident he would get through this, and cautiously optimistic Ali would stand by him while he did.

All too soon she unclasped her hands from behind his back, and he forced himself to let her go. “Tell me the basics,” she said, resuming her seated position. At the same time, she unwrapped a deli sandwich that rested on his desk and handed him half. “I know you’re busy. Eat while you talk.”

He sat in the chair next to her. “A little over two years …” Something clogged in his throat, he tried to clear it. Ali unscrewed the cap on a bottle of water and handed it to him.

“Thank you.” He took a sip. “Two years ago I was investigated by the DEA’s Office of Diversion Control, the unit that deals with criminal activity of physicians and pharmacy personnel.”

“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation,” Ali said. “Eat.” She pointed to his lunch.

Jared’s spirits soared. She didn’t think the worst of him. He took a bite of his sandwich.

“When you’re ready, start from the beginning.”

Someone knocked on the door. Tani’s voice came through. “Sorry, Dr. P. Ambulance on the way in. Sixty-two-year-old female. Cross-country skiing accident. Right leg, rib and facial injuries. ETA eleven minutes. And the medical director called again. He says it’s urgent.”

“Okay,” Jared answered.

“Just hit the highlights,” Ali said.

“Someone stole one of my Official New York State prescription pads. I didn’t realize it was gone until the police
showed up at my job to tell me it had turned up in the pocket of a drug dealer known for peddling prescription narcotics, complete with my signature and DEA number on fifteen blank prescription sheets.”

“They couldn’t tell the signatures were forged?”

Jared felt like smiling. “Are you sure they were forged?” he asked her.

“Of course they were forged. You would never sign blank prescriptions and give them to a drug dealer.” She hesitated before adding, “Unless you had a very good reason.”

Her belief in his innocence made him want to shout out with joy. “I’m almost positive it was Cici, but she disappeared before the investigation. That didn’t stop the DEA from trying to build a case against me.” And come close to charging him with prescription fraud after the drug dealer, a man he’d never met, picked him out of a line-up and after a search of his home turned up one prescription narcotic tablet on the floor of the bedroom closet he’d briefly shared with Cici, and another under the refrigerator.