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“And the doctor said to take it easy for a while.”
“I have been. You worry too much. What do doctors know anyway?” Her smile grew.
Michelle returned her grin. It was a running joke between them. Her mother was very proud of Michelle and told her so often. As the only parent Michelle had left, she worried about her mother, unable to stand the thought of losing her in both body and spirit. Then she would be alone in the world.
“Mom, why don’t you come and sit in the kitchen while I put these groceries away and see about getting us some supper?”
“I’d like that. You can tell me about your day. You work too hard, you know. Doing surgery all day and then coming here to see about me.”
That was also a continuing argument between them. One that neither one of them seemed to ever win.
Her mother followed Michelle along the familiar hallway to the small but cozy kitchen. This was Michelle’s favorite room in the house. It was where she remembered her father best. Even years after his death she and her mother still didn’t sit in what was considered “his chair”.
As Michelle prepared the simple meal, her mother chatted about the book she was reading and the neighborhood children who had stopped by to sell her cookies. Michelle felt bad that her mother had to spend so much time alone. She’d been such an active woman until the cancer had been discovered. Her recovery was coming along well but Michelle worried that her mother had lost hope. Worse, Michelle feared she might have. She fixed hearts. Cancer wasn’t her department. She had no control here and she was having a difficult time dealing with that fact.
With all those years of medical school and all her surgical skills, she was no more capable of saving her mother than the guy down at the gas station. Cancer had a way of leveling the playing field. No one was more likely to live than another. The only thing anyone really shared was hope. That knowledge not only made her angry but it made her feel desperate.
Michelle placed a plate in front of her mother and another at her own lifelong place. Filling their glasses with iced tea, she set them on the table and took her chair.
“So, how was your day? Anything special happen?” her mother asked, as she poked at the roast chicken in front of her.
Suddenly the broad-shouldered, unorthodox anesthesiologist with the dark unruly hair flashed into her mind. Of all the people to be the highlight of her day.
“No, nothing special. My surgery cases went well, which always makes it a good day.”
“You know you really should go out some.”
Michelle let out an exasperated breath. She changed lives through surgery for the better almost daily and some days saved a life that would soon be lost. Despite that, her mother was still only interested in her dating. No matter how old or successful she became, her mother wanted her to find someone special.
Michelle wasn’t against the idea. The right person just hadn’t come along. She had to admit that it would be nice to have a man in her life. A serious man who could understand her. It would be wonderful to have a marriage like her mom and dad’s had been.
“Michelle, you have no fun in your life. You worked too hard. When you’re not at the hospital you spend your evenings here, visiting me. You need to live a little.”
This had become an almost daily conversation. “Mom, I love spending time with you.”
“Aren’t there any young men working at that hospital you might like?”
The aggravating anesthesiologist’s twinkling eyes popped into her mind. “None that I’d ever be interested in.”
Ty opened the door to the nondescript furnished apartment. His surroundings didn’t bother him. After years of living in other spaces like it, he was more than used to this type of place. At least there would be a roof over his head, which was more than he could say about his childhood.
Pushing the large brown box with his name on it inside with his foot, he closed the door behind him. A cardboard box had become his suitcase of choice. His guitar should be delivered tomorrow. He’d arranged to have it shipped to the hospital so that someone would be around to sign for it and put it in a safe place. Sometimes he traveled with it on the bike but he didn’t like to. It was one of the few things he’d taken with him when he’d left his parents.
He dropped his helmet on the chair closest to the door and headed for the kitchen. He placed the sack holding the package of gourmet coffee on the counter then looked for the coffeemaker. Great. The machine was a good one. It had been his only request.
Doctors to Go, the service he worked for and was a fifty percent owner of, had seen that he had one. Ty had been working for the company a year when his friend had offered Ty part of the business. Owning nothing but a motorcycle and the clothes on his back, he’d saved his paychecks. There had also been the small amount he’d inherited when his grandfather had died, so he’d had the funds to invest.
His partner ran the show and Ty stayed in the background as a very silent partner. No boardrooms or conference calls for him. One of the ideals that his grandfather had drummed into him early after he moved in with his grandparents had been to plan for the future. Something his parents would have never considered. He’d done as his grandfather had suggested, but he loved working with people so he still continued to practice medicine.
He didn’t generally frequent grocery stores when he moved to a new city. Instead, he chose to take most of his meals at the hospital. Otherwise he asked around about local mom-and-pop places that served good down-home cooking. Ty had already been given a few names of places from a couple of the surgery team members. He’d try one of the restaurants on his day off.
Ty prepared and set the coffeemaker to start percolating at five a.m., before he headed for the shower. Stripping off and turning the water on, he stepped under the shower head. Not all the places he’d stayed had had great showers but having one available was more than he’d had growing up. Rain barrels and creeks just didn’t compare to a hot spray with excellent water pressure.
A muffled ring came from the clothes he’d dropped on the floor. He pushed the shower curtain back, picked up his discarded jeans and dug into the pocket for his phone. His partner had texted earlier that he would be calling about an issue with the business.
“Smith here. Let me call you right back. I’m in the shower.”
“Uh, Dr. Smith. It’s Dr. Ross,” came a soft, stilted voice.
“Who?”
“Dr. Ross.” Emphasis and impatience surrounded the enunciation of the name.
“Oh, Michelle. I thought you were someone else.”
“Obviously.”
He could just see her nose turning up as she said the word. The woman was far too stuffy. “How can I help you, Michelle?” He did like the sound of her name. It suited her.
“Our case has been moved up to first thing in the morning.”
He held the phone with two fingers to keep water from running over it. “I thought that the anesthesia department clerk made these calls.”
“Normally she does, but I was called and couldn’t get her, so I’m calling.”
If nothing else, she was thorough. He couldn’t fault that. It no doubt made her a good doctor. “How did you get my number?”
“I make it a point to have the numbers of everyone on my team.”
“I see.” He let the words drag out for emphasis. “You have it for no other reason?”
“No. There is no other. I’ll see you at seven sharp.”
He chuckled at her haughty tone. It sounded as if she were saying the words through a clenched jaw. He couldn’t help taunting her. She seemed like the kind of person who always rose to the bait. If only he could see her face.
“I’ll be there. Now, if you don’t mind I’ll finish my shower.”
“Oh. Uh … sure. Bye.”
So the frosty woman could be rattled. Stepping back into the shower, he thought he might have to do that more often. But what had him giving the stiff, buttoned-up woman even a second thought? She certainly wasn’t his type. Everything about her screamed of stability.
He’d been accused on more than one occasion of being the love-them-and-leave-them type. No woman got promises or commitments from him. That way he didn’t hurt them. Others could plant roots but they weren’t for him.
There had been a couple of women he’d dated who had made noises about him settling down. When that had happened it hadn’t taken him long until he’d been on his way to the next hospital in the next town. He wasn’t the type of person someone should depend on. When the going got tough he’d only let them down.
He liked women who enjoyed life, laughed, had fun and that was all they were interested in from the relationship. Michelle seemed far too serious about everything. She didn’t strike him as a short but enjoyable affair type of woman, even if he had been interested in having one with her. Which he wasn’t.
Enough about her. He needed some rest, especially if he was going to have to face her early in the morning and be on his best behavior. Which he wasn’t sure he could do.
He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Snatching a towel off the rack, he dried off. Thank goodness he’d requested maid service to start yesterday. Minutes later, naked, he slipped between cool sheets.
Dr. Ross’s strut across the parking lot came to mind. His weeks in Raleigh might be far more fascinating than he’d anticipated.
CHAPTER TWO
EARLY THE NEXT morning, Michelle tapped lightly on the door of her first case for the day.
Shawn Russell. Twenty years old. His procedure would be difficult. As a congenital heart patient he’d grown up in the hospital system and would never really leave it. Shawn was quite unhappy with the prospect of having surgery again. This time he needed to have the heart valve he’d outgrown replaced. Not a demanding surgery in most patients but in those with multiple surgeries the development of scar tissue added a degree of difficulty.
At the sound of “Come in”, Michelle pushed the door open further. The room was filled with people, undoubtedly family and friends. Dr. Smith stood beside Shawn’s bed with his back to her. Having only known him a day, she still recognized his dark hair and broad back.
He glanced around. “Good morning, Dr. Ross. We were just talking about you,” he said with a grin.
Michelle raised an uncertain brow. Never a fan of people discussing her, she wasn’t sure she was happy with what Dr. Smith might have been saying.
More than once she’d heard the whispers after she’d gone by the nurses’ desk. But instead of those negative thoughts his grin brought back memories of their conversation the evening before when he’d announced unabashedly that he was in the shower. He’d been trying to get a reaction out of her. She planned to see he didn’t get one.
“I was checking on Shawn to see if he had any questions for me before he goes into the OR,” Dr. Smith offered.
She nodded. “Good.”
Dr. Smith pushed his dark hair back away from his face. There was nothing conservative about its length or cut. Worn long and being wavy and thick, it curled behind his ears. It was the kind of hair that women envied. He certainly didn’t meet what she considered the standard dress code.
“Did you know that Shawn is a master gamer?”
What was he talking about? “No, I didn’t. That’s great.” She looked at Shawn. “Do you have any questions about the surgery?”
The far-too-thin young man shook his head. “I think my mother does.”
“I’ll go and let Dr. Ross speak to your parents. I’ll see you in the OR in a few minutes. The nurse will give you something to make you happy.” Dr. Smith grinned. “Don’t get too used to it because you don’t get to carry any of it home.” He put out his fist and Shawn butted his against it. “Later, man. Remember you promised me a game.”
“Sure, Dr. Smith.”
“Make it Ty, man. See you soon.”
Shawn nodded and gave him a small smile. For the first time since she’d met Shawn he didn’t look terrified. She and Dr. Smith might have gotten off on the wrong foot but she had to give him kudos for making patients feel comfortable. She would like to be that easy with people but it wasn’t her strong suit.
Half an hour later Michelle entered the OR prep area. Dr. Smith stood at the scrub sink along with three of the OR nurses. The group was chattering non-stop. Dr. Smith seemed to be the ringleader, interjecting a random comment which would bring on a burst of laughter from the women around him.
For the first time Michelle felt like an outsider. She couldn’t remember ever feeling that way so intensely before, or caring. She had no idea how to join their conversation. Worse, she couldn’t understand why all of a sudden she wanted to. What would it be like to belong? To know what was happening in the staff’s lives, for them to know what was happening in hers? Could she ever have that type of relationship with her coworkers? With anyone?
She remembered having friends over to spend the night as a kid. After her father had died that had become less frequent. She’d found out pretty quickly that her friends hadn’t felt comfortable with her any longer. The sadness she’d felt over the loss of her beloved father had been far too much for them. She’d started spending more and more time at home, reading and studying. It had been easier than trying to pretend to be having a good time with people who didn’t understand.
Her father was gone and her friends had slowly left also.
Michelle’s mother had encouraged her to go out to football games, to the prom, but to Michelle all those things had seemed silly. She’d also hated to leave her mother alone. They’d become a team. As the years had gone by Michelle had lost most of her small-talk skills, choosing to focus on medicine instead of a social life. Her mother, school and then her job had taken all her time, leaving little to devote to building outside relationships. There had been a few men who had shown her attention. Most had only been interested in her for her looks. Few had appreciated her intellect. They hadn’t stayed around long.
A second later another nurse joined the group. Dr. Smith did have a way of drawing not only women to him but men as well. People liked him. She had to admit she was as aware of the man as the rest of them. She just refused to let it show, had more command over her reactions.
Unable to wait any longer to scrub in so that she could begin her procedure on time, she stepped towards the sink when a spot became available. Just as she took her place, the group erupted in laughter.
Dr. Smith turned, almost bumping into her. “Hey, Michelle.”
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the other women drifting away. She placed a foot on the pedal to start the water. “Hi,” she said, concentrating on washing.
“We were just talking about getting together tonight at a bar downtown. I’ve been asked to fill in as part of the surgeons’ band.”
“You play?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I play a mean guitar. I think that’s why Schwartz requested me to take his place. More for my guitar skills than my medical ones.”
“I didn’t know Dr. Schwartz played in the band.”
Had he said he wasn’t surprised? She refused to let him make her feel like she didn’t belong. “No, it doesn’t surprise me that you play guitar. I was just making conversation.”
“Interesting. You don’t strike me as someone who makes small talk.” Was he trying to needle her on purpose?
“I don’t believe you know me well enough to know what I do.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded as if in deep thought. “You’re right. Maybe we should try to change that.”
Michelle looked at him. Where was this going?
“A group of us are getting together after the band plays on Saturday night. Why don’t you join us then? Practice that small talk.”
“I’m busy.”
“Well, if your plans change we’re going to be at Buster’s. Wherever that is.”
“It’s right in the central part of the old city.”
“A surgeon and a tour guide. Two for one,” he said with a grin.
She smirked at him. “My father used to take me there for burgers when I was a kid.” Why was she telling him this?
“Really, your father took you to a bar?” His tone implied he was teasing.
She made an exasperated noise. “My father would never have taken me to a bar.”
Dr. Smith chuckled. The man was baiting her again. Wasn’t he ever serious?
“It wasn’t a bar then. Just a grill. Mr. Roberts owned the place and was a friend of my father’s. I don’t know what it’s like now, but it was once a place with brick walls and had these old wooden tables.”
“You haven’t been lately?”
“Not since I was a child.”
“Why not?”
“I just hadn’t thought about going.” That wasn’t true. It had been her and her father’s special place. The memories were just too strong there. They made her miss her father more.
“Maybe it’s time to try it again.”
She finished scrubbing her nails. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, I hope you change your mind. It could be fun. If they still have burgers, I’ll buy you one,” he said, passing her on his way toward the OR.
A few minutes later she entered behind him. The team was talking and softly laughing at something Ty must have said. He seemed to always be saying something outrageous. She couldn’t blame her team for reacting. She’d smiled more since she’d met him than she had in a long time, but her nerves had been on edge just as often.
Everyone quieted down and became attentive when she joined them. “Are we ready to begin? By the way, it’s nice to see you here ahead of me, Dr. Smith.” Her voice carried a teasing tone. She didn’t tease. What was happening to her?
“Glad to be here. This time I wasn’t stuck helping out at a car accident.” His gaze caught and held hers.
He’d made his point. It figured he’d have a good reason that would make her feel bad about her actions the day before. “Understandable. I hope everyone was okay.”
“Everyone was fine. I’m ready to begin when you are, Michelle.” His eyes twinkled when he said her name.
Her jaw tightened beneath her mask. Demanding that the aggravating man call her by her formal name in the OR was a battle she didn’t think she could win. She’d let it go unless it happened at an improper time, like in front of a patient.
She glanced around to find all eyes on her. Their faces were covered but she had a sense that their mouths had dropped open. She imagined they were following the interaction between her and Ty with great interest.
Unwilling to let the team know he’d gotten a reaction out of her, she cleared her throat and said in her most efficient tone, “Let’s begin.”
Later, Ty sat behind the nurses’ station on the heart floor, reviewing patient charts before his pre-op visits. He and Michelle would share three cases the next day. Finished with the chart he’d been reviewing, he closed it as the clip-clip of heels tapping tiles drew his attention. He looked up to see Michelle coming towards him. Her hair was pulled tight behind her head and she was dressed in soft gray pants with a silky pale pink blouse. Over that she wore a finely pressed lab jacket. There wasn’t a wrinkle on it and he’d bet a weeks’ pay it was starched. Her high heels were the same dove-gray as her pants except for the tips of the toes, which were hot pink.
Disappointment filled him over missing a view of her legs. She had exceptionally fine legs.
For such a strong-willed woman she sure wore feminine colors. This outfit was just as tailored as yesterday’s, letting no one mistake her as anything other than a female. She was a paradox. All hard edges in manner and all soft and sensual curves in looks. Which was the truer Michelle? He’d like to know.
She glanced in his direction. When he smiled she quickly looked away and continued towards the room of one of her cases. He returned his attention to the computer screen and the chart of his next patient.
Opening another file, he looked up to see the nurse assigned to Shawn stamping toward the desk. Her lips were clamped into a tight, thin line. She stopped in front of the nurse sitting two chairs down from him. Through clenched teeth she hissed, “Abby, please watch my patient for a few minutes. The ice queen is riding her broom again.”
The nurse she spoke to looked none too happy but she said, “Okay. But don’t be long. I don’t want to be in her line of fire either.”
“I just need to blow off some steam for a minute. At least she has moved on to poor Robin’s patient.”
Ty saw Michelle approaching, but the two nurses had not. He didn’t miss the look of glass-shard pain in Michelle’s eyes before she blinked and her face became an unemotional mask. He had no doubt she’d heard every word. It had hurt her. By the look in her eyes—deeply.
“Excuse me, if you are not too busy, could you get me a number where I can reach Shawn’s family?”
The first nurse wheeled about, shock covering her face. “Uh, yes, yes, ma’am. I have it in the chart.”
The nurse must have forgotten about blowing off steam because she hurried to pull up the chart on one of the computers behind the desk.
Ty focused his attention on Michelle but she didn’t even glance at him.
The nurse handed a slip of paper to Michelle.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly.
She walked off. For once Ty felt sorry for her.
Not long afterwards, Ty started his pre-op rounds, visiting the patients on the next day’s surgery schedule. One of them was running a fever. He’d have to speak to Michelle about postponing surgery at least a day.
He could call her but after what had happened earlier he felt compelled to talk to her personally. Just for a second when she’d turned to leave he’d seen a crack in her mask, a deep sadness. He asked a nurse where to find her office. While he walked down the long hall in that direction, he told himself that he would be concerned about anyone who might have had their feelings hurt so publicly. It had nothing to do with Michelle in particular. He made a point not to get involved on a personal level. So why had her reaction gotten to him?
Stopping at the woodgrained door with her name on a plate beside it, he tapped. Seconds later a subdued, “Come in,” reached his ears.
Opening the door, he stepped in. The blast of color before him made him jolt to a stop. The walls of Michelle’s office were a warm yellow but what really got his attention was the huge bright red poppy painting hanging behind Michelle’s head. That, he hadn’t expected. The woman just got more interesting all the time. Her desk was the traditional hospital style but on it were modern office supplies, not typical business issue. There were two bright ultra-modern chairs covered in a fabric that coordinated with the painting and the color of the walls in front of her desk. This was obviously her haven.
Michelle’s eyes widened when she saw him. They were bloodshot, pink-rimmed. His gut squeezed. She’d been crying. She wouldn’t be happy he’d noticed either. He moved toward her desk.
“What can I help you with, Dr. Smith?” Her flat tone said she wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
“Please make it Ty.”
With a sound of annoyance she said, “Is there a problem … Ty?”
Michelle said his name as if it was painful. She still resisted any relationship that being on a first-name basis implied.
“Mr. Marcus has spiked a fever.” He glanced down at the garbage can sitting beside her desk. Inside were Cellophane wrappers and white paper squares. She’d been eating chocolate cake rolls, no doubt feeding her emotions. So the woman was undeniably human.
When his gaze came back up it was seconds before hers met his. It quickly fluttered away again.
“I’m sorry you overheard them.” He didn’t take his eyes off her.
She didn’t question to what he referred. Instead, she sat straighter and said, “We need to start Mr. Marcus on prophylactic antibiotics and postpone his surgery until the day after tomorrow.”