It was ironic really. Most of the men and women on this aircraft carrier spent weeks below deck—there were currently eighteen decks under her feet—and would probably love to get some fresh air. But right now Ivy couldn’t wait to get inside.
As soon as she got through the door she dropped her bag at her feet to give herself a few seconds to catch her breath. By the time she looked up, an older guy with grey hair was looking at her. Tony Briggs. He gave her a wide smile.
‘Tony!’ She leaned forward and gave him a hug. ‘I had no idea you were CMO on the Coolidge.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s great to see you, Ivy. When I heard you were the replacement I couldn’t have been happier.’ He gave her a sideways glance. ‘I thought you were moving on to bigger and better things?’
She stepped back and nodded. ‘It was a bit of a surprise call but...’ She looked around at the never-ending views of grey walls and said with a laugh, ‘How could anyone not want to do this?’ Then she sighed. ‘As for the bigger and better things, I guess I’ll just need to wait a bit longer.’
Tony nodded. As Chief Medical Officer on the aircraft carrier, he would be her closest colleague. It was a relief that it was someone she already knew—someone she trusted and had worked alongside in the past. He’d been one of the first doctors she’d met when she’d joined the US Navy. Steady as a rock, encouraging without overstepping the line. He’d let her learn from her mistakes on more than one occasion, but had always been ready to assist and chat. He respected her just as much as she respected him.
She gave a nervous shiver as she looked around. ‘Have to be honest, didn’t think I’d end up here.’
Tony gave a nod. He knew exactly what she meant without putting it into words. ‘You’re more than qualified. This job won’t be any different than any other—just a few more people,’ he added with a smile. ‘Crew roll is five thousand, five hundred and thirty-two.’
She gulped and put a bright smile on her face. ‘Okay.’
Tony threw back his head and laughed. ‘Don’t give me the “Ivy smile”.’
She shook her head in confusion. ‘What’s the “Ivy smile”? I’ve never heard you say that before.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘That one where you smile at someone when it’s completely clear that your brain is racing away in the background with a hundred other questions.’
She laughed and gave his upper arm a light slap. ‘You know me far too well.’
He gestured his hand towards the slim corridor in front of them. ‘Come on, let me show you to your quarters.’
‘My closet?’ she quipped back. The quarters on any navy vessel were always tiny, but she’d grown used to them.
She moved down the corridor in front of Tony, occasionally having to flatten herself against a wall to let others past, going down almost vertical stairs as they descended into the heart of the vessel.
The USS Calvin Coolidge was virtually new. Completed and launched the year before, it was the most modern aircraft carrier in the fleet.
Tony gave her a rundown as they moved to her quarters. ‘I’ll show you around the medical department and our state-of-the-art facilities once you’re settled. The SMO obviously wants to meet you—you know, give you the talk about pressure and teamwork. Have you met Isaiah Bridges before?’
She shook her head. The senior medical officer would be her boss on board the carrier. He had a sterling but stern reputation. She was a tiny bit nervous about meeting him. Particularly because she wanted to be in his shoes one day.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she started. ‘Oh, satellite’s working, then?’
Tony nodded. ‘Surprisingly well, unless you’re in the absolute depths on the ship. You should have no problems with access.’
He pointed to a grey door to her left. ‘You’re in here.’
As an officer on board and with her position as Flight Surgeon, Ivy had her own quarters. To say it was compact was being kind. But since some of the crew shared with sixty other people in three rows of bunks, having a tiny bit of space to herself was a luxury.
She dumped her bag and took off her coat. The heat inside the ship was already getting to her. It only took a few seconds to retie her rumpled hair and straighten her uniform. She would change later—if she was meeting the SMO, she wanted to impress him.
Tony gave her a nod of approval and took her back down the corridor. On naval ships the med bays and theatres were always near the centre of the ship in order to ensure the most stability. On a ship the size of an aircraft carrier there were, of course, also battle dressing stations at strategic points across the vessel to be used in case of emergency. But the med bay really was in the heart of the ship.
Tony beamed with pride as he showed her around the facilities. It was clear he was proud of how modern everything was. Ivy’s stomach gave a pang of pride. She believed in the service they provided for their crew. Just because they were stuck in the middle of an ocean, it didn’t mean that the crew should go without care. X-rays, blood tests, even emergency surgeries could be performed on the aircraft carrier. There was an active emergency room, a physical therapy clinic, operating room, an intensive care unit, up to sixty ward beds if required, a lab, pharmacy, X-ray room, a fully equipped dental surgery and a whole range of medical, dental and nursing staff to assist.
A tiny tremor went through her at the knowledge that if some kind of mass disaster occurred, this ship could literally be turned into a floating emergency centre. Some of the crew were also trained as medical corpsmen and could assist if required.
Ivy took a steadying breath. Things were calm today. There were a few patients in the hospital ward, others in the waiting area looking for some kind of medical advice. Although surgery was her speciality, while on board she would be expected to also deliver everyday preventative medicine to the crew. She liked that. She’d discovered early in her career that she didn’t want to focus too narrowly on one speciality.
General surgery was as narrow as she’d got. But as a member of navy medical personnel she’d also had the pleasure of studying aviation and aerospace medicine and been involved in some areas of research. The variety made it one of the best jobs on the planet, in her view, and she was thankful every day.
Her mind drifted. One day, all this could be yours. She knew it was completely and utterly fanciful, but it had always been her dream to get as far up the ranks as she could. She wanted to be the person in charge of all this. All the medical personnel. To take responsibility for the full medical contingent on this vessel.
I can be good enough.
The words echoed in her head. Remnants of the mantra she’d kept repeating to herself ever since Paul had left. She’d hated him for breaking her heart. But now she was kind of glad it had happened. It had given her even more drive to be the best at everything she did. She was always striving to be the best doctor, the best surgeon, and focus on her career. Whilst she never wanted to lose her practical skills, she also wanted the respect and ability to use her organisational skills too.
Being SMO on an aircraft carrier was the ultimate job goal. She pressed her lips together for a second. She’d really hoped that would have been her next post. This one was like being put in a holding pattern, and she’d need to let her head accept that, and move on.
She watched as one of the nurses sat next to the bed of one of the patients, holding his hand and talking quietly to him. Relationships between crew members were always discouraged, but no one seemed to be paying too much attention. She could see the worry in the woman’s eyes and the tremble in the hands of the male patient.
‘What happened?’ she said in a low voice to Tony.
He glanced up in the direction she was looking. ‘Yeah. There was an accident yesterday. We’re lucky our petty officer is still here. He put himself between a major piece of machinery and one of the seamen.’
Ivy d
rew in a deep breath. There was potential danger every single day whilst they were at sea. Accidents happened. But they were always investigated. As if he were reading Ivy’s mind, Tony shot her a smile. ‘Guess what your first job will be?’
She nodded. ‘No problem. I’ll see to it.’ When a crew member was injured, a medic always took part in the investigation. Her heart gave a little pang as she continued to watch the pair. There was a real connection there. That special ‘something’.
Her thoughts drifted back to two days before. She wished she’d had a chance to meet Rob. Even if it had only been for half an hour before she’d got the call. She would have liked a chance to put a face to the image she’d had in her head. To see if the easy manner translated into real life. To see if there was a little spark of attraction between them. Would a connection like the one she could currently see in front of her eyes ever be part of her life?
Would she be able to do that if—when—she was promoted next? Would there be space and time in her life for a relationship, or would the SMO role just encompass every part of her life?
Or would a spark just mean the chance of a broken heart again, and that feeling of not being good enough?
‘Ivy, everything okay?’
Tony was looking at her with a frown creasing his forehead.
‘Sure it is,’ she said brightly. ‘Let’s carry on with the tour.’
* * *
An hour later she’d met a number of the crew in the hospital and med bay. Tony had gone back to seeing patients as she knocked on the door of the senior medical officer. ‘Enter,’ came the commanding voice.
Isaiah Bridges’s dark skin gleamed a little as she entered the room. He was leaning over the desk as if he was studying something. It was only a few seconds before she realised his desk was spotlessly clean.
‘Sir...’ she said a little hesitantly.
He looked up and gave her a nod, pausing for a second before holding out his hand to her. ‘Flight Surgeon Ross, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard good things.’
Relief flooded through her. ‘Thank you, sir, it’s an honour to be here. Thank you for requesting me. I was so sorry to hear about Flight Surgeon Davis’s family.’
Her commanding officer nodded. ‘I’ve had word. His daughter has some serious injuries and has had emergency surgery. She’s in ITU now, but is stable. His wife had a spinal injury and will be required to be immobilised for a few weeks to allow healing of her vertebrae.’
‘Oh, no,’ breathed Ivy. The accident must have been really serious.
Isaiah Bridges nodded. ‘It’s going to be a long haul for him. He’ll be needed at home for the next few months. We were lucky you were able to replace him so quickly. I understand his wife should make a full recovery, but his daughter might require some further surgeries in a few weeks’ time. All his efforts need to be focused at home.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Ivy quickly. ‘I’m happy to be here.’
He gave a slightly uncomfortable roll of his shoulders, as if he had a crick in his neck, then reached for a glass of water. There was silence for a few moments as she waited for him to talk again. Finally, he took a file from a drawer and handed it to her. ‘There are a few checklists in here that Flight Surgeon Davis left. A few notes on crew he was concerned about, and the list of other duties still to be covered.’
‘No problem,’ said Ivy as she took the folder. ‘I’m happy to get started.’
He paused and looked at her again. ‘I also hear there could be good things ahead for you.’
The words made her skin prickle in delight, and she couldn’t help but smile. ‘I hope so. You know what they say, good things came to those who wait. But for now I’m happy to be your flight surgeon.’
He gave a nod in acknowledgement.
‘Dinner for my squadron is at seven. I’ll see you then.’
It was a dismissal, and she was a little relieved. She walked back to her cabin and finally took a shower after all her travelling. Her body didn’t know what time zone she was supposed to be in, and to be honest she could easily have curled up in her probably uncomfortable bunk. She towelled her hair semi-dry and left the rest to dry naturally. It was humid inside the aircraft carrier so any thoughts of straight hair would be a dim and distant dream.
She picked up her phone. The signal was good so she scrolled through her social media feeds. With a shake of her head she deleted two out of three dating apps. They were currently midway between Hawaii and the Galapagos Islands, two thousand miles from the nearest land. Dating would be a long way off.
Her fingers hesitated at the last app. This was the one where she’d met Rob. She hadn’t even had a chance to message him again since she’d failed to show two nights ago. Ivy bit her bottom lip. If the shoe had been on the other foot she would have been furious. There was a good chance this guy wouldn’t talk to her again. Her fingers hesitated above the phone. Was there even any point apologising when she might not be home again for a few months?
She could almost hear her elderly aunt’s voice in her head. Good manners cost nothing. Of course she should apologise. It was the least she could do.
But what to say without revealing too much about herself?
She took a deep breath and started typing.
* * *
Travis was busy. Admin work was never his favourite part of the job but it still had to be done. He’d gone for a run at lunchtime, ignoring the blistering heat in San Diego, plastering himself in sunscreen, and pounded the surrounding pavements to try and work off some of his frustration at being stuck behind a desk.
He’d just stepped out of the shower when his phone buzzed. He ignored it—it was bound to be one of his sisters—as he poured himself a coffee. It was one of the few things in life he was fussy about. He should have gone to the coffee shop a few blocks from the base, but running and coffee didn’t really mix. Next time he’d remember his portable cup.
His phone buzzed again and a flash of purple appeared on his screen. Travis frowned, remembering that messages that came through the dating app were purple. But he wasn’t talking to anyone on the app—not after Saturday night’s disaster.
He swiped the screen. Ali.
His first thought was pure exasperation and to delete it without reading. But that was the beauty of the modern phone—he could already see the first line of the message.
Hi Rob, huge apologies about Saturday night. I can’t blame you if you’re mad. I know I would be. But, honestly, I got called away at the last minute for an emergency that means I’m out of town for the next few months. But...
He stared in confusion at the dots. What else did she mean to say? As for the message, an apology was the least he deserved. His stomach clenched. His imagination could create a whole range of other possibilities. But maybe this was just the truth.
Recognition dawned as he saw some little dots on the screen. She was replying. Of course. She’d been checking he’d read the first message before she continued.
The truth is I was looking forward to meeting you. I’m bummed that we didn’t actually get to see each other in person. You know how it is when you have a picture of someone in your head and you want to see if the imagined picture matches real life?
He set down the phone as he pulled his uniform back on and frowned. He hadn’t been expecting that. Their messages had usually been fun and flirty, but this time she sounded more sincere. Almost like...she was at the same point in life that he was.
He sat back down and stared at the screen, not quite sure how to answer.
There were so many curt replies he could give. Five minutes ago that was exactly how he would have answered. But now he was curious.
And here was me thinking you caught sight of me, the only guy in the bar with a glass of rosé wine, and bailed...
She wasn’t the only one who could use dots.
&n
bsp; Her response was immediate.
What? OMG no. Absolutely no way. I would never do anything like that.
He smiled.
Really? You’ve never done that, ever...?
There was a slight pause.
Well, not any time lately...
So you’re gone for the next few months?
The reply came quickly.
Unfortunately, yes. Duty calls. Let’s just say I’m in a place where no land is in sight.
Now, that caught his interest. But before he had a chance to respond, she replied again.
How do you feel about a drink when I get back? I would like to try and meet. I was ready, and on the trolley on my way to meet you. My favourite driver, Elvis, was serenading us all with ‘Blue Suede Shoes’.
There was something achingly familiar about the tale. While Travis sometimes used the regular trolleys in San Diego, he rarely used the Old Town, and knew instinctively that was the kind she was talking about. A few of his fellow crew had joked about the singing Old Town trolley driver called Elvis. The guy did actually exist.
Why don’t you seal the deal by sending me a photo? Prove to me you’re actually a real person and not a figment of my imagination.
He raised his eyebrows, imagining her reaction on receiving such a message. He did wonder if this was a good idea. But he was feeling bold. And it seemed Ali was too. What was wrong with asking for a photo?
The seconds seemed to stretch. Then a short reply.
Let me think about it.
No extra dots. No sentence unfinished. The phone on his desk rang and he reached over to answer it. Flirtations would have to wait.
CHAPTER THREE
IVY’S SKIN HAD prickled with that last message—but she didn’t have time to think about it much. She had a quick flick through the photos on her phone. Too many laughter lines. A dress that was a bit revealing and might send the wrong message. Her nose too big in another. Her hair all over the place in the next. She sighed, knowing that Liz would tell her every single one of these pictures was fine and she was too critical of herself.
His Blind Date Bride Page 3
