Читать книгу Hot Single Docs: Giving In To Temptation - Lynne Marshall - Страница 15
ОглавлениеFRIDAY MORNING, JOHN sat at his desk on the computer finishing up the last of his administrative work, the thing he liked least about being a department head. If he had his way he’d do surgery every day, but he needed to play fair and share the admin duties with his orthopedic surgical staff.
Out of habit, he glanced at the spot on his desk he’d always looked when in doubt, but it was empty. He’d already forgotten that he’d put the framed photograph of his wife in the desk drawer the previous week. He hadn’t been able to look at her picture without feeling guilty since he’d slept with Polly...even though it had been twelve years since Lisa had died.
He wasn’t a saint, he’d been with a woman here or there over the years, but never had he gotten involved, and he liked it that way. That was, until Polly and this alien desire to get involved. Very involved.
He thought about her every day, relived their lovemaking in his head at the craziest moments, and even though he’d handled everything monumentally badly, he still smiled when he thought about her lively blue eyes, sexy grin, and perky young body.
Polly the people-pleaser extraordinaire.
At thirty-nine he was too young for a midlife crisis, wasn’t he? With his elbow on the desk, he sank his chin into the palm of his hand and looked out the window. Damn, he’d become a moony teenager all over again.
Couldn’t he just apologize to her for being so crass and start over?
Truth was he wanted to, and he’d never thought of himself as a coward...
The tap at the door yanked him from his thoughts. “Come in.”
When Polly stepped into the room, looking tired and worried, something thick and cold dropped in his stomach and she got his full attention. Barely able to lift her eyes to his, she walked toward his desk.
He shot up from his chair. “Are you all right?”
She sighed and sat, finally lifting her gaze to meet his. “Yes, actually, I am.”
He sat, not wanting to be a pushover. “Can you forgive me for being a jerk?” His mouth had gotten a jump on his cool-and-calm plan.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“On how you react when I tell you something.”
Another sinking feeling slithered down John’s throat. What messy surprise was she going to spring on him? Would she tell him she never wanted to be with him again when he’d just realized how much he wanted to know her better? He sat perfectly still, keeping her in his line of vision, waiting for her big announcement. To cover his insecurity, he went the tough route.
“I’m a big boy. Don’t worry about me.” He thought about picking up his pen and pretending to continue to work on his papers, blowing her off, just to show her how absolutely fine he was with however she planned to dump him. Yes, he was a busy, busy man, who would hardly notice if she dropped out of his life.
Liar.
She put her fingertips over her mouth and watched him, as if gauging his true feelings. Shaking her head, she glanced at the floor then back up at him. “There’s no easy way to put this.”
He went still, sensing the heaviness in the room gather into a giant cloud directly over his head. This wasn’t the Polly he knew. This Polly seemed like she’d been steamrollered by life, not the bright young woman she’d been when she’d first arrived at Angel’s...before they’d made love.
Pretty lousy effect you have on women, Griffin.
Okay, he’d made a snap decision. He wouldn’t mess up her life one more day, no matter how badly he wanted to get involved. She didn’t deserve a moody old fart like him.
“I’m pregnant.”
He’d let her go, break it off clean— What?
“You’re pregnant?” He’d checked his lab reports every day and hadn’t seen her results. “And you know this how?”
“I asked Dr. Woods to order a blood test for me.” She raised her hand. “Before you say another word I want to tell you straight out that I will not end this pregnancy. And I don’t intend to give up the baby for adoption.” She looked into his eyes, hers shining from moisture. “I know how it feels not to be wanted...” her voice broke with emotion “...and I won’t let my baby go through that.” She swallowed and sat quietly, obviously trying to hold herself together.
He’d heard everything she’d said. He’d paid attention. Yet he needed to repeat the words, to make them real, and help them sink in. “You’re pregnant.”
“Yes.”
With his hands on his desk, perfectly still, he leaned forward, trying to get his mouth to move so he could ask the question What do we do now? but nothing came out.
“And no matter what you say...” she stared at him out of those determined, teary eyes, having the same effect as reaching into his chest and wrenching out his heart “...I’m keeping this baby.”
His baby. She was keeping his baby. He’d never thought he’d have a chance at a family again. A nugget of hope planted itself in his heart, filling a long-forgotten hole. He almost smiled at the absurdity of how he’d become a father at thirty-nine—from one amazing night in on-call.
Not since his wife had told him she was pregnant had he felt such a flash of joy.
A baby. A family.
But that had been long ago, and six weeks before 9/11. When he’d loved and lost both his wife and unborn child. When he would have gladly given his own life in exchange for theirs.
A jet of fear shot through his chest and strangled the breath out of him. He couldn’t speak as a flashback of the hopeless feeling that had nearly ended his life—and had surely ended his wife and future child’s life—played out in his head. The horror of that day. The frantic need to find her in the rubble. The sinking feeling as reality had put one foot in front of the other and stepped ever closer to ripping his life apart, as it had for so many others. The desperation when hope against all the odds had lost out and he’d found out she’d been killed. That he’d never kiss Lisa again, never hold her, never welcome their baby into his arms.
Oh, God, he couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t bear the pain if anything happened to this baby...or Polly. He’d used up an entire life’s worth of pain and sadness already. He couldn’t spare one more...
“Are you all right?”
Polly’s gentle voice broke through his thoughts. Even when confessing her predicament, she’d put him first. Was he all right? What about her? Was she all right with him getting her pregnant? Of course not! Yet, trouper that she was, she’d come to tell him she was keeping their baby, whether he liked it or not.
He tried to unclench his fists, to act as if he hadn’t just relived the worst day of his life. Unfortunately, his expression must have been a snapshot of his true feelings, and Polly was a solid people-reader. Perspiration moistened his upper lip. He rubbed it away.
“Yes, I’m all right.” He took a deep breath, knowing it would be impossible to invest emotionally in this pregnancy. At least he could be a civilized man and offer financial support. Surely she couldn’t do this on her own without his monetary help. He ground his molars and lifted his eyes to meet her steady and earnest gaze. “How much do you think you’ll need?”
His hands shook so badly he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to hold a pen if she agreed to let him write her a check. He held onto the desk rim to hide his shaking.
He may as well have slapped her face by the way she flinched at his words. “Pardon?” Anger, like an offshore squall, gathered in those luminescent blue eyes. Her face tensed, incensed. “You think I came here to ask for money?” Her voice quivered with barely controlled rage. “You want to pay me because you knocked me up?”
Of course she’d take it the wrong way. She didn’t have a clue what he’d been through, and he sure as hell didn’t have the strength to tell her now. He had to hold it together, to be the worst kind of bastard on earth in order to make it through this meeting. No matter what she thought of him, she at least deserved to be well taken care of.
He tugged his earlobe. “That’s right.” His jaw was so tightly locked the words had to squeeze themselves out.
Her obviously escalating fury forced her to stand. Her cheeks blushed red, her eyes looked wild. “You bastard!”
It was her turn to verbally slap him. “This pregnancy isn’t some little problem you can clean up with cash. For me it’s sacred!” She stormed out of the room and slammed the door, leaving the glass and walls shaking as much as his hands.
Ah, hell. He picked up his pen and tossed it across the desk. Could he have handled the situation any worse?
* * *
Almost a week later Polly helped her favorite LVN, Darren, start an IV he’d accidentally dislodged. She sat at the hospital bedside with her IV kit prepared and in reach. Children were always a challenge, and the little boy had started screaming the moment he’d realized what the “lady nurse” was going to do to him. Darren firmly held the six-year-old’s arm to the bed, his other arm safely secured in a cast and sling. With Darren’s free hand he pressed against the boy’s knees to control the fidgeting legs.
Starting an IV on a child that was freaking out was bad enough, but hitting a moving target was nearly impossible.
She wiped the skin with disinfectant and slipped on gloves. His wails escalated.
“Mikey, if you hold still for just a couple of seconds, this will go a lot quicker,” Darren said. “Then I’ll play Battle Star with you, I promise.”
Fortunately, that morning the high school of performing arts had sent a troupe of street performers to their ward. A lanky kid in a fluorescent green shirt and a bright red beret appeared at the doorway, juggling neon yellow and blue bowling pins. He edged to the side of the bed, capturing the boy’s attention.
The moment the child became distracted Polly slid the needle into the vein and anchored it with tape before Mikey’s delayed protest made him squirm again. His mouth gaped as the juggler pretended, in an exaggerated way, to almost drop a pin.
“It’s all over,” Polly said. “Just need to tape it, Mikey.” She wasn’t even sure he was listening. “Then you can kick Darren’s patootie in Battle Star, okay?”
The relieved child looked at his arm to make sure Polly hadn’t lied, just as the juggler migrated to the next room.
Darren glanced at Polly, winked and smiled. She smiled back, then patted Mikey’s shoulder. Teamwork. It was the only way to survive in a hospital.
Teamwork in a pregnancy was pretty darned important, too.
Leaving the room, she almost ran into John, who was holding a tiny patient and watching the juggler as he switched to multicolored balls. It had been a week since she’d told him she was pregnant and had stormed out of his office after he’d insulted her, and he hadn’t lifted a finger to contact her since. She yanked herself back before they made physical contact, as her heart nearly hurtled out of her chest. “Oh, sorry,” she said, by rote.
He handed the tiny patient to the nearby nurse then steadied Polly by holding her arms. “My fault. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
She stared at his feet, rather than look at him, furious with him, the feel of his warm hands on her skin almost her undoing. What could she say that she hadn’t already confessed in his office, and he’d frozen her out, tried to pay her off, leaving her hurt beyond comprehension? She’d calmed down since then for her baby’s sake, and from now on her baby would be the only thing she cared about.
She stepped back, removing her arms from his grasp. The last thing she needed was for anyone on staff to become suspicious about them, or find out about their predicament. Her predicament, as he’d have nothing to do with it. The pregnancy would be apparent to everyone soon enough.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, under his breath.
“Fine. Thank you.” She walked away, pretending her legs didn’t feel like noodles, holding her head high. She felt his eyes on her, but refused to turn round.
“Dr. Griffin! Dr. Griffin!” a child’s voice cried out. “Will you make me an elephant?”
“I’ll make you two elephants, if you’ll quit giving your physical therapist such a hard time, Nate.”
Did he even give a damn about her?
The boy laughed, and Polly could practically see John messing his hair and pretending to punch him in the arm with the cast. The man was a natural with kids, yet he’d chosen to ignore his own child.
* * *
Later that day, when the opportunity came up to work a double shift, Polly jumped at the chance. She’d need to work lots of double shifts to earn as much money as possible while she could for her and the baby.
The evening staff had a whole different feel from the day crew. Gossip seemed to be their favorite pastime, and Polly got an earful from another RN named Janetta, a large woman with a loud voice. When Janetta spoke, everyone listened.
“You know that pretty new blonde doctor, Layla something or other?” Janetta said.
“Dr. Woods?” Polly asked.
“Mmm-hmm. That’s the one. She talks weird.”
“She’s from Texas.”
“That’s right, honey. That’s the one.” Janetta leaned forward and looked around. “Guess who she’s having an affair with.”
Polly didn’t have a clue, neither did she want to know, but something told her Janetta was about to tell her anyway.
“Dr. Dreamy himself. That hunk from Neuro, Dr. Rodriguez.”
Come to think of it, Layla and Dr. Rodriguez would make a perfect couple, but Polly kept her thoughts to herself. “How do you know they’re having an affair?”
“Everyone knows it. Where have you been? It’s the talk of the hospital. Goes way back. I heard from a good source that it broke up Dr. Woods’s marriage, too. It must be true, ’cos she’s single.”
The thought of her own and John’s personal business getting spread all over the hospital like poor Dr. Woods and Dr. Rodriguez made her skin prickle.
From the corner of her eye she noticed John entering room number one. “Goodnight, Chloe and Sandra. Sleep tight. See you in the morning light.”
She’d never been here before for John’s nightly ritual.
He zipped into the next room. “Jason and Brandon, don’t give your nurses a hard time or you’ll have to answer to me. Have a good night’s sleep and I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.”
How would John hold his head up at work if their affair became fodder for the hospital gossip mill?
As for herself, she couldn’t wait to be a mother, single or not. Finally she’d have a baby to love and cherish and they’d be a family, just the two of them. She thought about Dr. Woods and wondered if she had a clue what was being said about her, and decided not to participate in this grapevine.
She thought about telling Janetta that unless she knew for sure about something, she shouldn’t pass it along, but didn’t want to get on Janetta’s bad side. Instead, she nodded her head and let Janetta give her the rundown on several other people having affairs in the hospital, while listening to John enter each patient room and wishing the children a good night.
Soon enough her name would be added to the jilted-lover list.
Polly kept her thoughts to herself and to avoid John went back to caring for her patients, thankful that visiting hours made the floor busier and noisier than usual. The chaos still wasn’t enough to keep her from thinking about her own situation, though.
She’d have to get used to the evening staff as she planned to work at least two extra shifts a month from now until she went on maternity leave. She would have to in order to make ends meet, and there was no way she’d let John pay her for getting her pregnant. She’d never take his guilt money.
Thankfully, she’d get medical coverage through Angel’s hospital after her probationary two months. She’d have to hold tight until then to have her first prenatal appointment. Since she didn’t have a clue how to find a good obstetrician in town, she’d have to be discreet about getting a name without alerting the rest of the staff to her situation.
During her dinner break Janetta and someone Polly had never seen before joined her at the only table in the nurses’ lounge.
“This here is Vickie. She’s the receptionist up in hospital Administration offices.”
Polly greeted her, but wondered what she was doing hanging around the hospital after hours. The look on Vickie’s face made Polly think she was bursting with something to say.
“I thought we were going to be alone,” Vickie said to Janetta.
“Oh, you can trust Polly. Now, spill. What’s the big news you have for me?”
Vickie licked her lips as excitement widened her eyes. “You’ll never believe what happened today.”
“Go on, go on.” Janetta practically rubbed her hands together with glee.
“Okay. Well, Dr. Woods got called up to the offices today. She showed up all solemn-faced and nervous. When they buzzed me and I told her to go inside, girl, she looked scared.” Vickie took a big bite of bread and chewed quickly.
Janetta impatiently gobbled some of her dinner, as if not wanting to miss a single syllable. Polly wished she could disappear, but knew if she walked out Janetta would peg her as someone she couldn’t trust with good old-fashioned gossip, which would make Polly an enemy, so she stayed in her chair, quietly nibbling at her meal.
Vickie’s eyes brightened. “Okay, so a couple minutes after Dr. Woods is in the room, guess who comes barreling through the office doors?”
“Tell me, oh, tell me. Not...”
“Yes. Dr. R., and before the door can close I hear him say ‘I insist Dr. Woods’s name be cleared’.”
“Cleared from what?” Janetta looked like she was sitting around a campfire hearing a famous urban legend being retold.
“I think this has to do with some surgery on a kid back in Los Angeles that they got sued for. But get this. I sort of got out of my chair and went over by the door so I could hear better. He says, ‘She’s a gifted doctor with much to offer our hospital, and she shouldn’t have her name dragged through the media because of a surgery I agreed to perform’.” Vickie put on a horrible accent, and Polly’s stomach twisted with guilt, listening. “‘I was the person who was charged in that malpractice suit, not Dr. Woods, and I was cleared.’ He went on to say that he knew the surgery would be high risk, and if they wanted to lay the blame on anyone, it should be him.”
“Oh, my God, this is something.”
“Yeah, so next thing I know, Dr. Woods rushes out of the offices and out the door and Dr. Rodriguez keeps yelling at them. The last thing I heard was, ‘No, you listen to me. The verdict was no malpractice. Make it public, then!’”
Janetta was practically salivating over this news. Polly sat silent, watching the two women live vicariously through someone else’s drama. It just didn’t seem right.
Later, while exiting her patient’s room, she noticed the nurses’ station had gone quiet. She glanced up and spotted across the ward the very doctor Janetta and Vickie had been talking about at dinner. Polly waved and rushed to her side, not caring how it looked to her co-workers.
“Hi,” Dr. Woods said with a genuine glad-to-see-you smile.
“Hi. I wanted to thank you for arranging my test, and ask another question if you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. What’s up?”
Polly guided Dr. Woods to a more private spot, noticing Janetta’s eagle eyes watching. She lowered her voice. “I was wondering if you could recommend an obstetrician who is close by the hospital.”
Layla raised a perfectly arched brow. “So the test was positive,” she whispered.
Polly gave one solemn nod.
Layla patted her forearm. “Let me ask around, since I’m kind of new in town myself, and I’ll get back to you, ’kay?”
“Thank you so much.”
“Darlin’, it’s my pleasure. We girls gotta to stick together. You know?”
Overwhelmed by the doctor’s care and genuine concern, once their hushed conversation had ended, Polly decided that regardless of the hospital gossip about Dr. Woods having had an affair with the head of Neurosurgery while she was still married, Polly would be Layla Woods’s number one fan.
* * *
Polly could barely breathe when on the following Thursday the case involving Dr. Woods and Rodriguez went public at Angel’s. She read the memo addressed to the hospital staff about a boy named Jamie Kilpatrick and a high-risk neurosurgery that Dr. Woods had recommended to Dr. Rodriguez. One thing stood out beyond everything else: Dr. Rodriguez had valiantly taken full responsibility for the boy’s death.
One major question crossed Polly’s mind. Why would Dr. Rodriguez put his career and reputation on the line to protect Dr. Woods? She didn’t need to think for long. The man was obviously in love with her, just like Janetta had said. Wow, what must it feel like to have someone love you that much?
* * *
That night Polly combed the aisles of her local market, hunting for healthy food. Her routine in the mornings had always been to buy a couple of pieces of fresh fruit from one of the street carts near the hospital. She’d bring a yogurt from home for morning break, then a sandwich for lunch, usually tuna, and eat the second piece of fruit. Now she worried she wasn’t getting enough vitamins. She grabbed a bag of baby spinach, deciding to sauté it with oil and garlic and serve it for dinner over the chicken breast she’d just picked up. Eating for two was a big responsibility, and she wanted her baby to have the best opportunity possible at a healthy start.
Eyeing a package of her favorite cookies, she steered away. This pregnancy business would be harder than anything she’d done in her life, but she was determined to have a successful pregnancy.
The thought of a healthy baby brought back the need to see an obstetrician in the next couple of weeks. With fingers crossed that Dr. Woods would come through for her, she paid for her groceries and headed home.
* * *
John stood over his six-burner state-of-the-art stove, grilling salmon. He’d gutted the old-fashioned kitchen when his parents had sold him their condo at a steal before moving to Florida. Now he had a kitchen that connected to the flow of the house, instead of hidden behind a wall. The 56th Street, near Sutton Place address was perfectly situated for work, plus he had the East River within walking distance whenever he felt like taking a jog. With two bedrooms and baths, a living room, which he’d expanded by breaking down a small third bedroom wall, and the new roomier kitchen, he lived comfortably for a New York City bachelor.
Tri-colored squash sautéed in a small pan and the brown rice steamed in another. He loved to cook and wasn’t shy about letting people know. While cooking, he wondered if Polly was taking good care of herself, and how she might enjoy this meal. Flipping the fish, he realized he didn’t have a clue what she liked to eat beyond cheese pizza. For all he knew, she hated fish.
She was carrying his baby. Every time he thought about it, the breath squeezed from his lungs.
With everything under control dinner-wise, and Polly solidly implanted in his mind, he dug out his cell phone and called a forgotten friend. “Geoff, it’s John.”
The old medical school colleagues went through a required, though brief catch-up time, then John broached the true reason for his call. “I was wondering if you’d do me a favor. One of my ortho nurses just found out she’s pregnant, and she needs a good OB guy. I told her I knew the best. Any chance you could squeeze her in?”
Geoff asked John to hold while he flipped through his calendar and, taking this opportunity, John checked the salmon and veggies, then opened his kitchen catch-all drawer, hunting for a pad of paper and a pen. Soon Geoff was back on the line with an appointment date and time.
“Fantastic. Thanks so much.” He tugged his earlobe. “Oh, by the way, send me the bill.”
By the brief silence on the other end before Geoff agreed, John figured he hadn’t pulled the wool over his old classmate’s eyes. Yes. John Griffin had knocked up a nurse. His nurse. Polly.
* * *
On Friday afternoon Polly was in the middle of hanging intravenous antibiotics for her newest post-op patient when John appeared at her side. Her hand trembled as she placed the small bottle of potent medicine on the hook and opened the drip regulator. She got mad at herself for letting him have that much power over her and hoped he hadn’t noticed. He was in his OR scrubs, having followed the surgical patient back to the ward.
Having already received report from the OR recovery nurse, she knew Emanuel had been in a car accident, had broken his left leg, and needed to have a metal plate and pins to secure his bones back in place.
“I wanted you to have this.” John handed her a small piece of paper.
She stared at it instead of reaching for it, thankful that Emanuel was completely out of it and in a private room so no one else would hear them talk. “What’s that?”
“It’s an appointment with the best OB guy in the city.”
Hesitant to take anything from John, she shook her head. “That’s okay. I’ve got someone else in mind.”
John tugged his ear. “You need to let me be involved in this, too.”
“Why, John? The other day you wanted nothing to do with me or our baby,” she whispered spiritedly over Emanuel. “You wanted to pay me off.” She wanted to sound indignant, but it came out hurt.
“Look, there’s a lot to get used to for both of us. I’m just asking you to give me time.”
She snatched the paper from his fingers. “You think I don’t understand how much we both have to get used to? And as for time, well, you’ve got approximately eight months to work it out.” She glanced at the appointment, next Thursday at four p.m. with a Geoffrey Bernstein. It was perfect for her work schedule, she’d give him that. Then she noticed the address. Park Avenue? “Forget it. I can’t afford this guy.”
“It’s all taken care of.”
It stalled her for a second, but she quickly recovered. “I don’t want your guilt charity.” She handed back the paper but he refused to take it and left, grinding his jaws, without another word.
That afternoon Layla Woods crossed the ward, heading directly for Polly, looking far less confident than usual. Up close, Polly could see she had dark circles under her eyes, as if she’d been on call and hadn’t slept. “I’ve got some information for you.”
“Great. Thank you so much.” Polly glanced around to make sure no one was within hearing distance.
“I’ve been told this guy is the best OB doc in town. The only problem is the wait list is long, and I think he’s pretty pricey.” She handed Polly the paper, and Polly opened it immediately. Dr. Geoffrey Bernstein.
Polly tried not to hide her disappointment because Dr. Woods had gone out of her way to help her out. “I can’t thank you enough. I’ll look into this right away.”
They parted company and Polly watched the petite doctor walk away as a hollow, aching path burrowed through her stomach.
Round one had gone to John. Not only had he found her the most expensive doctor in town, he’d made an appointment for her, too. And he was paying.
As her least favorite Uncle Randolph used to say whenever Polly had resisted her cousin’s baggy hand-me-down clothes: Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
So be it. For the good of her baby she’d take the appointment John had made for her, and because she’d been raised right afterwards she’d swallow her pride and thank him for it.
* * *
Three nights later Polly worked her second double shift. It probably wasn’t a wise move as she still hadn’t recovered from the first sixteen-hour shift, even though she’d had the whole weekend to do it. Now she dragged through another.
The pregnancy had zapped most of her energy. She’d also become aware that other early signs of pregnancy were cropping up. Her breasts were tender, and she wanted to sleep more. And she was hungry. All the time. Maybe she’d be one of those lucky ladies who didn’t get morning sickness, but it was still very early along.
For her dinner break, to avoid another gossip-infused lecture from Janetta, she decided to go outside and eat on a bench in the hospital garden. She walked to the elevator feeling more than fatigued, eager to breathe in some fresh air. With all of the gossip at the hospital and speculation about her own situation, she felt as though she had a brick on each shoulder. While she waited for the elevator she rolled her neck around and lifted her shoulders, hoping to release some stress from the stiff muscles.
The elevator pinged and opened to reveal Dr. Alex Rodriguez inside. Alone.
Polly had never seen the man up close before. She entered and tried not to stare at his handsome profile or notice the waves in his thick black hair as it curled along the collar of his shirt.
He stood stoically silent, deep in thought, hardly noticing she was there.
The elevator stopped at the next floor and Dr. Woods got on. Polly’s heart tripled in beats. Layla nodded at Polly, looking noticeably riled, then turned to Dr. Rodriguez. “Hi,” she said, sounding breathy and unconfident as she pressed the button for the lobby, which had already been pushed.
“Layla.” His all-business attitude threw Polly in light of what she already knew about the memo and their supposed past, through Janetta.
“Listen, I wanted to thank you for what you did the other day,” Layla said. “Sticking up for me in the board room and all.”
“It needed to be done.” Curt. Businesslike.
Had she become invisible?
“Well, I want to thank you for that, Alex. It meant a lot to—”
With a quick gesture, he brushed her off. “It was nothing.” He wouldn’t look her in the eyes, and that must have bothered Dr. Woods. It sure would have if Polly had been in the doctor’s shoes.
Layla punched the button for the second floor, obviously upset. “Both of us getting out of the elevator together in the lobby would only fuel the fire of the gossip around here.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and the moment the doors opened she started to get out, but Dr. Rodriguez stepped around her and exited first.
Holy cow. Polly hoped and prayed that Layla didn’t think she had participated in the rampant gossip around the hospital. Especially after all she’d done for her.
Dr. Woods let him leave, watched him go, staring, even though the elevator doors had closed again. Polly didn’t know what to do so she kept quiet, hoping maybe she really had become invisible. They continued downwards in silence, Dr. Woods deep in thought, until the doors opened to the lobby.
Straightening her shoulders, she glanced at Polly, the first sign that the doctor had remembered she was there. “He may think this is finished between us, but it isn’t. Not by a long shot.” With that, Dr. Layla Woods, looking determined and undeterred, exited the elevator.
Polly stood frozen to the spot, her mind swirling with what she’d just witnessed. It wasn’t hatred or anger that fueled them, it was passion. Pure and simple. Those two were meant to be together, and somehow, some way, they’d both have to figure it out. Just before the doors closed Polly rushed out of the elevator and toward the garden exit.
As she ate her dinner, she made a vow. No way would anyone hear a hint of what had gone on in that elevator. Their secret was safe with her, and she hoped Layla was right, that whatever they had going wasn’t over by a long shot.
* * *
At the end of her shift, completely exhausted, she went to the bathroom to splash some water on her face, hoping to pep herself up for the long subway ride home. Afterwards, she gathered up her belongings from the employee locker room and headed toward the elevator, the last person to leave from the late shift.
A lone silhouette stood at the other end of the hall. White doctor’s coat, broad shoulders, short-cropped hair, unmistakably John. Her heart fluttered at the thought of facing him after several days. He met her at the elevator door.
“What are you still doing here?” he asked.
“Did a double shift.”
“Should you be doing that?”
She yawned, and covered her mouth. “No choice these days.”
She noticed he festered over that response. He blinked and turned his head as if he had a thing or two to say to her, but had maybe thought better of it.
He looked at his watch. “I don’t like the idea of you taking the subway home at this time of night.”
“It really isn’t about what you like or don’t like, now, is it, Johnny.” Yes, she could be a brat when she wanted to, make that needed to. Being pregnant had put her in a whole new frame of mind. Her baby came first, and John wasn’t on board with her being pregnant. End of story.
“Let me give you a ride home.”
“No way.” But, man, oh, man, her feet were tired, and the thought of walking the required blocks just to get to the subway station did seem daunting at almost midnight.
“Look, I had early surgery today so I drove my car. I’m parked next door. Don’t be stubborn and foolish.”
Stubborn? Look who was calling whom stubborn. “Do you have any idea how big the gossip mill is at Angel’s? People would have a field day if they saw us leave together.” And then found out soon enough I’m pregnant.
“Look, dumpling, I don’t give a rat’s ass what other people think. Right now, all I want to do is give you a ride home.”
“Don’t call me dumpling.”
“Sorry.”
If, and that was a big if, she decided to let John give her a ride home, it wouldn’t be because she was giving in to him. No. It would be because she really didn’t want to face that long subway ride to the Lower East Side. It had been almost two a.m. before she’d gotten in bed the last time she’d worked a double shift and, being honest, she worried she might fall asleep on the subway and miss her exit.
“Okay.”
“Okay you accept my apology or okay you’ll let me give you a ride home?”
“I’ll take the ride.”
He looked surprised, as if she hadn’t put up nearly as big a fight as he’d expected.
Ten minutes later she slid onto the smoothest kid leather seat she’d ever seen in a fancy sedan like his. It was soft and cushy, too, and, oh, the headrest was adjusted perfectly to her neck. She touched the button to lower the head of the seat, making it like a lounge chair, and snuggled in after clicking her seat belt.
John didn’t say a word, but she could see his cheek lift in that unbalanced smile of his. He’d won. He knew it.
But she was reaping the benefits.
Before he’d even exited the parking structure, she closed her eyes and drifted off to a sweet dream about being curled up on the softest sofa in the world, while the sexiest guy she’d ever met touched her knee and talked to her softly.
