Читать книгу Redeeming The Rebel Doc - Susan Carlisle - Страница 10
ОглавлениеWHERE IS HE? Tiffani asked herself more than once as she paced in front of the men’s store in downtown Memphis. She had texted Rex the address and the time earlier that morning. He’d sent a terse response.
I’ll be there when I can.
She hadn’t heard another word from him since and his scheduled appointment time with her hairdresser was growing ever closer. Moreover, her father was expecting her later this afternoon. He’d worry if she was late. Rex needed to hurry.
It wouldn’t have surprised her, though, if Rex was keeping her waiting on purpose. Wasn’t that what doctors did? Made people wait? It proved what she thought about them must be true—little worry for how they affected others—and so Rex not being courteous enough to tell her he’d be late shouldn’t have astonished her.
Fuming over her assumption that he’d show up at the time she’d told him, her hopes rose at the roar of a motorcycle. Was that him?
He’d made it clear he didn’t like any of her ideas, but she wasn’t sure he understood the big picture. He kept insisting he wanted nothing to do with the effort to improve the hospital’s reputation. Then he’d flat out balked at her insistence he needed a makeover. Something deep was behind his protests and stubbornness. What had he said about his appearance? He’d said it was part of his identity.
She watched the motorcycle rider pull into a parking spot not far from hers. He wore a plain black T-shirt, worn jeans with a hole in one knee and black ankle-high boots. When he pulled his helmet off, dark hair fell around his broad shoulders. Rex was impressive in a wild sort of way. She almost regretted insisting his hair be cut. Somehow it made him more fascinating. Her opinion, though, didn’t matter. What mattered was his image in the eyes of the residents of this city if her plans were to succeed.
Her gaze met his.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Had she been staring? She went on the defensive. “I expected you here thirty minutes ago. Maybe your patients understand you not showing up on time but I don’t.”
Climbing off his bike, tucking his helmet under his arm, he stepped into her personal space, claiming all the air around her. She could hardly breathe, let alone hear him quietly inform her, “Something came up at the last minute but I’m here now.”
Tiffani took two steps back and inhaled. “You could’ve at least texted me.”
“I didn’t have a chance. Sorry. My patient was having difficulty breathing. I didn’t have time to message you before I started operating, repairing her lung. Afterward I was too busy rushing here to text you.”
She’d firmly been put in her place. Somehow sorry didn’t cover it but she said it anyway.
“Now that I’m here, let’s get this over with.” With a grim look on his face he looked at the storefronts.
“The manager is waiting for us.” She led the way to the specialty men’s shop.
“I still don’t understand why all of this is necessary.” He followed close behind her.
Over her shoulder she replied, “That biker gang look might work just fine in your everyday life but in my world a more professional appearance is called for.”
“What if I want nothing to do with your world?” Stepping ahead of her, he opened the door.
His manners couldn’t be faulted. At least that area needed no work. As she passed him she retorted, “Right now, you have no choice.”
He said softly, “We’ll see about that.”
The middle-aged store manager greeted them and directed them to a row of suits.
“I’d rather not.” Rex shook his head. “If I must dress up, I’d prefer jackets and jeans.”
“You need a suit. I have a TV interview set up for next week.” The opportunity to show Rex as qualified and trustworthy was too good to pass up.
“No suit. It’s non-negotiable.” The firmness in his tone stated he meant every word.
“You don’t make the rules here.”
“I do about what I wear,” he shot back. “I won’t be dressed up and paraded around like a preening bird. Complain to Nelson if you like.”
She took a deep but discreet breath, counting to three before she said in her most soothing tone, “We’ll try it your way, but I get the final say. If I don’t like the look you choose then you may have to try on a suit.”
“Won’t happen.” He turned back to the manager and started pointing at jackets. “I’ll try that one, that one and that one.” Moving to a wall with cubby holes filled with stacked shirts, he pulled out several. “Here,” he said, piling them in her arms. Moving to a rack of pants, he sorted through them until he had chosen a handful. The manager took the pants from Rex, who all but growled, “Where’s the dressing room?”
“This way, sir,” the older man said, appearing perplexed.
“Just call me Rex.”
The man nodded and led the way to the back of the store.
Tiffani followed, feeling a little dazed. Rex had taken over. She needed to regain control but was unsure how to do it.
Rex dropped his helmet on top of the last display table before the dressing stall. Immediately he pulled his shirt over his head.
Tiffani was given a spectacular view of his back muscles shifting under bronzed skin. That expanse of pure masculinity tapered down to a trim waist.
Her step faltered.
Surely it was from the shock of him stripping so freely. Not from the delicious view she’d been given. She should want nothing to do with men, doctors in particular, but she wasn’t immune to a good-looking male. Rex Maxwell had a very fine body to go with his handsome face. If he affected her this acutely, surely other women would also be attracted to him. Smiling to herself, she nodded. Tiffani would use his raw virility to her advantage during the campaign.
“Hand me the shirts and pants first. I’ll try the jackets on last,” he said from behind a wooden door that stopped a couple of feet from the floor. She watched with a skip of a heartbeat as his jeans puddled around his feet.
The manager hurried to give him the pants. Rex opened the door far enough to take them. Seconds later he opened it again and stuck out a hand. “Shirts?”
The manager moved out of Tiffani’s way so she could hand him her armload of shirts. She did her best to keep her eyes off the almost naked man before her. When Rex chuckled softly, she instinctively met his gaze. The twinkle in his smoldering eyes made her discomfort intensify. He was playing with her. But she had endured enough cat-and-mouse games for a lifetime.
She quickly turned but not before her downward glance had registered his navy sport briefs barely concealing his manhood. Trying to hide her sexual attraction, she said in as flat a voice as she could muster, “Let me see you when you’re dressed.”
Minutes later he came out wearing a light blue shirt and navy pants. The manager held up a tan jacket. Rex slipped it on with a grace Tiffani couldn’t ignore. He’d been toying with her earlier. Had known he was embarrassing her. Yet here she was, ogling him again. Whatever was going on with her body had to stop. He was a client and one she was determined not to like or trust. All doctors were self-centered and so far Rex Maxwell hadn’t proved himself any different.
He put his arms out and slowly turned around. “What do you think? Will I do?”
She studied him intently, hoping to find a flaw. There wasn’t one. So she promptly ordered, “Let’s see the others.”
“No. You can choose what you like out of my selection. I’m done here.” He shrugged off the jacket.
She stepped in front of him, ignoring the garment he held out. “You need to try them all on. I want to make sure they create the right image.”
He took the stance of a man in a gunfight, letting the jacket sweep the floor when he lowered his arm. His stare was hard. “They’re all the same size, just different colors. Mix and match ’em. I’ve done all the fashion-show stuff I’m going to do. Period.”
Everything about him warned she shouldn’t push any further. So she looked down at his boots. “Okay. Now for shoes.”
Rex lifted a foot, moving it one way then another. “What? You don’t think these go with everything?”
Relieved his mood had mellowed, she retorted, “I think traditional footwear would be more appropriate. The boots work for your motorcycle but I don’t think they’re the best choice for TV interviews or social situations.”
“Social situations? What social situations am I going to be in?”
She could feel the appalled aura envelop him.
“The hospital is planning a small cocktail party and dinner for the accreditation committee. It’ll be a great opportunity for you to talk to influential members of the community, while impressing the committee. Let them get to know you.” She smiled, hoping to encourage him.
His jaw tensed. “I won’t be attending. That isn’t my thing.”
Time to try coaxing. “Sure you will. You’ll be the face of the hospital by then. The surgeon everyone wants.”
“If that happens it’ll be because I’m a great surgeon, which by the way I am, and not because you dressed me up and paraded me around.” He headed toward the dressing room.
She called to his back, “It’ll be good for you and the hospital.”
Rex turned and confronted her. “I have no interest in being linked to the hospital forever. I’ve agreed to help because Dr. Nelson strongly encouraged it, but with this I draw the line. I don’t do social.”
“Your social appearance might mean getting top marks from the accreditation committee. You know they’re overly conscious of the malpractice case. We’re trying to rebuild some public goodwill as well.” She couldn’t back down on this. It was the cornerstone of her plan.
“Do you really believe changing my wardrobe and showing me off to people who value appearance over substance is going to make that much difference?” There was a snide tone to his words.
She fervently hoped so. This project was her ticket out of town and away from Lou. “I make a living seeing that it does.”
He leaned close and looked her directly in the eyes. “Don’t you think honest people see beyond all your publicity? I know I’m more interested when I get to know the real person, not the one putting on shiny shoes and a smile, trying to be someone they’re not.”
Stepping closer and lowering her voice, she hissed, “You need the shiny shoes and smile so people will want to take the time to get to know you. Do you think black T-shirts, holey jeans and biking boots exude medical professionalism? It’s important the community has confidence in you. Believes they’ll get the quality of care they expect.”
Surprise and then something she wasn’t sure she could name flickered in the depths of his eyes. He said, just as quietly, “Their quality of care hasn’t changed. Mine or the hospital’s. Just because a family wouldn’t accept I couldn’t save their father’s life doesn’t mean my skills are any less competent or professional than they were before the malpractice suit.”
Tiffani flinched. This conversation was treading too close to the personal. She had promised herself that she would see this job through without letting what had happened to her father intrude. The only way to do that was to go on the defensive. “Just what is your issue? After all, you’re getting a new wardrobe at the hospital’s expense and you’re an intelligent man, so you know how important what I’m trying to achieve is. Why all the pushback?”
“Like I can’t afford my own shoes and my own clothes,” he spat. “Clothes I have no interest in wearing.”
“I still don’t understand the problem. It looks to me like you’d want to help.” Why couldn’t he just not fight her on this?
“The problem is, I’m not going to pretend to be somebody else.” He dropped the jacket on a stack of causal shirts and gestured toward the clothes she and the manager still held. “I’m a skilled surgeon, regardless of what I wear. I don’t care who is or isn’t impressed by my appearance.”
She believed him. He was his own man and he was brutally honest. Unlike virtually all the people around her. She had to admire that about him.
After Lou’s lies she appreciated the honesty. She was glad that, with Rex, she was certain she wouldn’t misread his feelings. He would make them clear. In an odd way, it was refreshing.
But his stubborn insistence that his appearance ought not matter to people would be the ruin of her campaign if she couldn’t make him see reality. With his biker appearance came negative connotations, no matter what type of person he really was. With secret desperation she coolly asked, “If you won’t present the image the public has of a gifted, confident, trustworthy surgeon, just how do you expect to convince them you really are gifted, confident or trustworthy?”
He gave her a seething glare. “And you think this dog-and-pony show you have planned will do that?”
Tiffani raised her chin and shrugged with all the indifference she could muster, sensing victory. “It’s done all the time.”
Rex seemed at a loss for words. Abruptly she was aware of the manager’s intense interest in their disagreement. What was going on between her and Rex wasn’t good PR. Taking a cleansing breath, she tried to appease Rex into compromising. “It’s just for a little while. I’ll try to make it as easy as possible.”
“I don’t care how long it is. I won’t pretend to be somebody I’m not. Ever again.”
Again? So there was something in his past driving his illogical refusal to admit she was right. “Then I’ll make an effort not to ask you to. Agreed?”
Juggling her armload of clothes, she extended her hand. He looked at it for a moment then took it. Inexplicably, a shiver went up her spine at his touch. She pulled her hand free.
“Agreed.” His voice was calm and sincere.
She smiled. He was going to try to meet her halfway. Tiffani made her tone appeasing. “Now, I know you don’t want to hear this but it’s time we get to your hair appointment.”
His lips puckered and jaw tightened. Was another fight coming?
To her surprise, he finger-combed his hair back from his face and said, “Okay. But only because I’m due for a trim.” He picked up the jacket and returned to the dressing room.
Relief washed through her. The tightness between her shoulder blades eased. A least he was going to go along with her plans regarding his hair. Trim? She needed him to have more than that. She’d let Estell handle making that happen.
While waiting for Rex, she made arrangements with the manager to pick up the purchases later. As they left the store she announced, “The shop isn’t far from here. Should we walk?”
“Do you think biker boots will be okay for that?” he asked with a smug smile, tucking his helmet under his arm.
She glared. “Yes, but I don’t think they’re suitable for every occasion. The hairdresser is this way.”
* * *
Rex, although familiar with this area of Memphis, had spent little time there. As he examined the small businesses with cute storefronts he noted many of the other people on the street were fashionably dressed and clearly wealthy. It all reminded him too much of his childhood where nothing had mattered but where you shopped and what brand you could afford.
The boutiques lining the street looked just like the ones his mother used to frequent. But then the terrible truth had come out.
At least now he didn’t care what he wore as long as it was comfortable. He’d spent half his life going in one direction and the other half hell-bent on another. No way was he returning to the old lifestyle his parents had pretended they could afford. He had no reason to prove himself to anyone through his appearance, zero interest in outside trappings. He knew with bone-deep certainty who he was and for the rest of his life there would be no more pretentious facades.
Still, damn it, he had agreed to help with Tiffani’s PR nonsense. His plans for his future actually rested on it to a certain degree. If a few wardrobe changes and a haircut could gain him what he wanted, then was it such a big deal?
Yes! It was a very big deal. He had set his boundaries all those years ago for very real, vital reasons and had successfully, happily lived by them ever since. He had no intention of ignoring them now. Not for Tiffani. Not for anyone. Nor for any reason, regardless of its appeal.
But walking down the street on a sunny day with a pretty woman beside him somehow made all the ridiculousness of this makeover less disturbing to his peace of mind. He glanced at Tiffani. She still wore her hair up but not quite as tightly as before. Her attire was more casual as well. A simple purple knit shirt, black pants and flat shoes unleashed her subtle sex appeal, which floated around her like honeyed perfume.
He didn’t care for her high-handed ways and wasn’t even sure he liked her, but it was a nice change to argue with someone who gave as good as she got. Few people in his life dared to talk back to him. He’d found his disagreements with Tiffani invigorating, something he’d experienced rarely with a woman. The women he tended to date were only interested in a good time or were in awe of what he did for a living. There was no challenge. Tiffani was definitely that. She wasn’t impressed by his looks and certainly not by his position.
They stopped in front of a store with flowers painted on the windows and a sign above the door that read Cute Cuts. He felt his eyes involuntarily roll in disbelief. Maybe he should have ridden his bike and parked it out front. Letting out a low groan, he informed her, “I’m going to have to give up my man card if I go in here.”
“It won’t be all that bad. I promise.” A bell tinkled as she pushed the door open. “Come on in, be brave.”
Rex didn’t miss the humor in her voice. “It’s not courage I lack but desire.”
A woman with short, spiked green hair tipped in red looked away from the client she was working on and said to Tiffani, “Hey, girl, I’m almost done here. I’ll be right with you.”
Rex gave Tiffani a speculative look. She shrugged in response. What had he gotten himself into? This place looked nothing like his barbershop. Instead of a group of balding men sitting in the back, talking and playing checkers, there was a rock station blaring on the sound system and an over-the-head hair dryer going.
The only place to sit in the tiny place was a wicker settee with floral printed cushions.
Tiffani settled on it. Unsure if the wicker was strong enough to hold them both or if he wanted to sit so close to her, he chose to stand.
“She’ll be done in a sec, I’m sure,” Tiffani offered. “Estell’s the best in town.”
Rex nodded, but really didn’t care. He just hoped one of his male colleagues didn’t see him leave the place. The jokes would never end. Had Tiffani been polite enough to ask, he’d have preferred to have gone to his regular guy. Rex’s urge to leave grew. Too much of his day off had already been wasted.
Soon the customer was gushing over her new look and leaving.
“I’m ready,” Estell called.
He approached her with a tentative smile.
“Well, hello, handsome. What can I do for you today?” Estell purred, low and throaty.
Rex chuckled, liking the “out there” woman. It surprised him that Tiffani used her as her hairdresser. Estell seemed too eccentric to appeal. Tiffani acted so closed off and all business. Was there another side of her he’d not seen?
While he pondered her, Tiffani said, “Estell, I was thinking cut it above the ears. A little longer on the top—”
“I can handle this,” Rex stated in his “surgeon-in-OR” voice that tolerated no argument. “Why don’t you go get us some drinks? We’re good, aren’t we, Estell?”
Grinning, she nodded. “Yeah, Tiffani, we’re good.”
“I need him to look professional, clean cut.” Tiffani looked concerned, almost as if she was unsure they could be trusted to be left alone.
“Will do,” Estell said, and returned to her cutting chair.
Rex pulled from his pocket a few bills and handed them to Tiffani. “I’d like a soda. Get yourself one too. How about you, Estell?”
She grinned. “Sure.”
“Make that three,” he added.
Tiffani stood immobile, looking rather bewildered.
He winked. “Take your time. Estell and I might be busy a while.”
Estell snickered. Tiffani’s eyes narrowed. She muttered as she left, “I don’t know about this.”
Estell had just finished with his hair when Tiffani returned. With the turn of the chair he faced her as she crossed the threshold. She stopped short, gaping. Heat simmered through Rex. He knew well the pleasure of a woman’s admiration, but he’d never experienced one devouring him with her eyes. He shifted uncomfortably as hot blood-hardened parts made themselves known.
“So, what do you think?” Estell asked from behind him.
Tiffani blinked, appearing to struggle back to the here and now. “Uh, I wanted it...much shorter.”
“I didn’t,” Rex announced, his gaze still locked with hers as he slipped out of the chair.
A long second later she fluttered her eyelids. “Okay.”
He took the plastic bag she held. Checking its contents, he pulled out a soda and tossed it to Estell, who caught it neatly. He handed Tiffani one before withdrawing and opening his.
As if coming out of a daze, Tiffani straightened her back and glared at him. “You had me go buy these to get rid of me.”
Shrugging his shoulders Rex set his drink down and pulled his wallet out. He paid Estell, giving her a generous tip along with a kiss on her cheek. With a wink, he said in a confidential tone Tiffani could hear, “You know what’s said at the beauty parlor stays at the beauty parlor.”
Tiffani snorted behind him.
Estell giggled and replied, grinning, “I had fun too. Nice to meet you, Rex.”
“I’ll wait for you outside,” he told Tiffani as he stepped around her.
* * *
Tiffani wasn’t sure what had just happened. She rarely ogled men, especially not one who was her client. Or one she considered egotistically self-absorbed, not to mention argumentative. Yet she’d been literally unable to take her eyes off Rex when she’d reentered the beauty shop. He was gorgeous. All virile male at ease in a den of feminine décor. Confidence oozed from him. To make matters worse, like an idiot she hadn’t been able to put two words together.
Estell had taken a few inches off his hair and tamed it around his face so that it complemented his rugged features. It looked healthy and free, just like he was. Tiffani had never been a big fan of men with long hair, but Rex was a definite exception. Her first instinct had been to touch it, to caress his scalp and let the strands flow through her fingers. A totally inappropriate impulse for a professional such as herself.
The worst thing about those first agonizing moments had been his obvious relish of the effect he was having on her. Enjoying it. She mustn’t allow that to happen again. She had to remain in control of the situation, and herself, at all times around him. That was the plan.
“Honey.” Estell shook her head as if thinking, Yum, yum, yum. “You’ve got a real man on your hands. I hope you can handle him.”
“He’s not my man. We’re business associates.” Tiffani almost snapped, wincing at the edge of defiance she heard in her voice. She wasn’t interested in a relationship. And certainly not with someone like Rex Maxwell. Her breakup with Lou had guaranteed she’d think long and hard about allowing herself to become intimately involved with another man. Besides which she didn’t need one. Heartache was all the opposite sex offered.
“Well, if it was me, I’d sure figure out a way to make him mine,” Estell said as she opened her drink.
Rex was standing by a light pole when Tiffani joined him outside. Virtually every female walking by gave him a second look. Obviously, Tiffani’s reaction to the new Rex wasn’t unique. His image on the billboards would certainly captivate most women. An ambassador who was a handsome surgeon with sex appeal practically assured a positive rise in the hospital’s reputation. She was tickled. The campaign was fast becoming far more effective than she’d first hoped. The only thing that might ruin it was Rex inexplicably fighting her every step of the way.
He shifted impatiently from one foot to another. “Is there a café or something around here?”
“Yes, there’s one just around the corner.” She pointed up the sidewalk.
“Would you like to join me?” Rex asked.
“I guess so.” Tiffani didn’t make a habit of socializing with clients but she couldn’t think of a good excuse not to. She was hungry and had time for a quick meal before she had to leave to see her father. Plus, she had one more thing she needed to discuss with Rex. He’d be more receptive to it if he heard her proposal with a full stomach.
He fell into step beside her. “The women I dine with usually sound more eager to share my company.”
“This isn’t a date,” Tiffani retorted, a little more stiffly than intended. “And I only have time for something quick.” She felt his dark eyes on her.
“You have a problem with dating?”
“No,” she said slowly. “And you are my client.”
He stopped. She did too and looked back at him. People walked around them. He said, as if choosing his words carefully, “And if I wasn’t your client? How would you feel?”
“I don’t do business and pleasure in the same place.” She’d more than learned her lesson there.
“That was a loaded statement. Care to elaborate?”
“I do not. It’s too long and too ugly a story.” And too humiliating to repeat. Especially to a man who probably never had a female turn him down. “And it has nothing to do with us. The PR campaign, I mean.”
“They say talking it out with someone makes it better.” He continued along the sidewalk.
She couldn’t believe his arrogance. Did he really think confiding in him was going to make anything better? He was a doctor. One she didn’t trust. And definitely not a confidant she’d trust her embarrassment to.
“I know you’re very sure of your bedside manner but do you really believe I’d spill my life story to you?”
“Not really. But it sounds like it might be interesting.”
She looked at her reflection in the glass front of the restaurant. “You should save your charm for the TV interviews.”
“Now you’re trying to ruin my meal.” He opened the door to the small sixties retro café.
They were shown to a table for two in the middle of the dining room and handed menus. After studying the menu, Rex asked, “Anything you can recommend?”
“I’ve only been here a couple of times. The pork chop and potatoes or the spaghetti is good.”
He nodded sagely. The waitress took their drink orders on her way to another table. After a moment he questioned, “Have you decided?”
In principle, sharing social time with a client wasn’t a good idea, but the raw truth was that being seen with a good-looking man gave a much-needed boost to Tiffani’s damaged ego. Being told you’re not wanted by someone she’d thought had loved her had been devastating. After that catastrophe, having any male attention was like a much-needed salve.
Against her better judgment, her mind started to chew over her past love life. Learning Lou didn’t return her love had nearly destroyed her. To make matters worse, he’d made a show of announcing to their coworkers that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Had arrogantly declared he was now available during an office meeting. Tiffani had wanted to melt under the table. She’d never been more mortified. In her despair, she’d vowed never again to share herself completely with a man. All the males in her life had always wanted more from her than they had ever been willing to give in return.
The waitress returned with their drinks and took their orders. Tiffani settled on a salad and Rex asked for a pasta dish. With that done, Tiffani said, “I wanted to let you know that I have a photographer coming tomorrow to take pictures of you.”
“I have surgeries planned.”
“I know. I got your schedule from Dr. Nelson. We’ll work around it. The photographer will be at the hospital to take pictures so he can shoot you between your cases.”
Rex thumped his fork on the table. “You have to be kidding.”
The noise accompanying his disbelieving tone startled her. If she showed weakness now, she feared all would be lost. “Dr. Nelson said we could use a conference room to take formal portrait shots of you.”
“You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?”
She could tell by the way he clenched his jaw that he was holding back what he would like to say. “It’s my job.”
“I don’t think much of it.” His words were heavy with contempt.
She looked him straight in the eyes. “The feeling is mutual.”
“How’s that?” He looked confused.
“It doesn’t matter. We don’t have to like each other, or each other’s professions. We just have to work together long enough to repair the hospital’s public reputation.”
Crossing his arms on the table, Rex leaned toward her. “You expect me to accept that cryptic explanation?”
“You don’t get a choice.” She took a swallow of her drink and let the ensuing silence between them speak for itself. Thankfully the waitress brought their food in short order. They said little as they ate.
“Someone, help!” cried a woman on the other side of the room. “She’s choking.”
Tiffani’s eyes jerked in the direction of the desperate plea. Even as she did so, Rex shoved his chair back and hurried to the distressed woman, who was beating a child’s back, dodging tables as he went. Tiffani followed.
“I’m a doctor. Let me have her,” Rex commanded with unquestionable authority.
The woman stopped her movement in midair and handed the gasping child to him.
Rex took the girl’s arm and turned her round, pressing her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, clasping his fists together and positioning them under her ribs before giving her a tight squeeze.
Nothing happened. The girl’s lips were turning bluer.
