Falling For Her Boss

by Kay Lyons

  “If you feel s-so strongly that you have to marry her, fine. Do it. But don’t attack me or tell me how I should feel when you know nothing about losing a part of yourself. You don’t know what it’s like to have something in your body that’s killing you and there’s nothing you can do about it. I have every right to be afraid!”

  His lashes lowered over his eyes, fuming yet full of tears. “Don’t you sit there and tell me I don’t know fear. I lost part of myself the day I lost your mother and don’t you ever forget it or insinuate otherwise. Do not throw our marriage and the love we felt for each other in my face just so you can play the martyr.”

  “I’m just trying to get you to understand!”

  “I do. Better than you think. But unlike you, I’m not done with my life. Almost fifty or not, I’m marrying Ellen, I’m going to be a father again—and I’m going to enjoy every minute God allows me. Mel, I want the same for you, but you’re not ever going to find happiness when you don’t choose to try.”

  “Things are different for me, and you know it. What guy wants to tie himself to a woman who’s already got the scars to prove things aren’t going to end happily? You can’t compare my situation to yours and Mom’s, and you certainly can’t blame me for not wanting you to marry a woman who got herself pregnant to trap you!”

  “She isn’t trapping me! And don’t talk like that. We don’t know how things will end.”

  “Some of us do.”

  “None of us do. Some of us just have to be in control, but it doesn’t work that way. You live like you’re already in a coffin. Have you ever considered that the man upstairs might have a plan that requires you to live to be a hundred and ten? Are you going to spend the next eighty years alone and feeling sorry for yourself and waiting to die?”

  “Yeah, well, how do you expect me to move on when everyone tosses me back into that coffin every time I try to claw my way out of it?”

  He opened his mouth to comment when his pager went off. Her dad swore, glanced at the number and swore again. Quite a day for a man who tried hard to keep his language in check and set a moral example both for his officers and his town.

  “I’ve got to go.” He shoved himself up from the chair. “Mel, I’ll pay the utilities until you draw a few checks and get on your feet. I talked to the judge today and to Joe before I came in. Ellen and I are getting married here in three weeks. If you want to come, do it with a smile on your face and acceptance in your heart, but if you can’t—”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Melissa turned to see Bryan standing nearby. She hadn’t heard him approach. The few diners who’d been finishing up their dinners had mostly disappeared or chosen to take their desserts and coffee out on the patio. The rest openly gawked at them and she fought the urge to hide under the table. Had Bryan heard them?

  “Yeah, Doc, you can.”

  Her eyes widened at her father’s response, then widened even more when he closed the distance between him and Bryan, not stopping until he stood nose-to-nose with him.

  “Dad… Dad?” She was afraid her father’s boiling temper and dislike of Bryan might get the best of him under the circumstances.

  “I don’t think it’s possible you’re anything other than what the gossips say, but the other night you helped that girl and I saw the side of you Ellen keeps insisting is there. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt for the time being, but I want that man—the doctor—right here, right now.”

  Bryan’s gaze slid to her, then back to her father. “You’ve got me.”

  “Good. In exchange for the meal I’m going to buy you, Doc, I want you to talk to Mel about living rather than dying.”

  “Dad.”

  Her father stalked off without another word, without looking back. He paused only long enough to hand money to Dara with muttered instructions and continue on his way. Melissa gaped after him, uncomfortably aware of Bryan watching her, of the room watching her.

  “That must have been some father-daughter chat.” Bryan seated himself at the table.

  She angled her head away from the other diners and fought back tears. It had been a long, mortifying day. Her emotions were threadbare and unraveling, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk to Bryan about her inability to—

  “Melissa?”

  “Enjoy dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow morning—if you still want me to work for you after what I said to you today.”

  “We were both out of line, and of course I want you working for me. Melissa—”

  “No.” She shook her head firmly. “Please, Bryan, not now. I can’t do this. Not after—” she waved a hand to where her dad had disappeared “—that.”

  His jaw firmed. “Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow, then. But we will talk about this.”

  “No, we won’t. I don’t want to discuss this with you.”

  “Too bad.” His gaze caught hers and held. “I can’t disappoint the chief of police, can I?”

  Melissa grabbed her purse and headed for the door. Maybe Bryan couldn’t, but she obviously did.

  * * *

  HAL ENTERED the dim interior of the eight-hundred-square-foot house, his gaze sharp and on the lookout for anything his officers might have missed. Like Miss Molly’s, the place had been ransacked. Tables were overturned, glass shattered and broken, the bent head of the white-haired victim gaining his attention the moment Hal spotted him.

  “Same as last time,” Nathan muttered, disgust heavy in his voice. “Right down to the running-out-of-gas excuse. The old man opened the door to help him out.”

  “Prints?”

  His officer shook his head. “Nothing yet. The perp makes such a mess we don’t know what’s what, and our victims aren’t the best of housekeepers so when he fingers something, he’s pulling away dust and leaving nothing behind.”

  “What’d he get this time?”

  “A VCR, a couple guns and a lot of pain pills and patches, things that’ll give him an instant high.”

  “Just what we need, some idiot out there high as a kite and packing. Did the old man get a description?”

  “Single Caucasian male, young, probably early twenties, average build, average height, dark hair. Describes half the guys in town.”

  Which left them nothing to go on. “Get the word out to the newspapers and churches. Make sure they warn people we’ve got a burglary scam going on, but have leads.”

  Nathan raised a brow at the last statement.

  “You heard me. We don’t want to start a panic. Let’s just warn the community and go from there.”

  * * *

  WEDNESDAY EVENING Melissa pulled on her shoes to go for a run, a poor attempt to take her mind off her problems and the humiliation of having to face Bryan after everything that had happened. What was she going to do?

  She and Bryan spent their time at the practice avoiding each other and the awkwardness between them was growing. What she wasn’t sure of was why Bryan felt he owed it to her father to talk to her. Employers weren’t supposed to get that involved with their employees’ personal lives. Doctors should care for others and Bryan used to be a playmate, but that was no reason to team up with her dad against her.

  She groaned in frustration, locked up the house and walked down the street, her pace increasing as she went in a vain attempt to burn off some excess anxiety. The humid air had her clothes sticking to her skin before she made it to the end of the block, but the sauna-like mugginess felt good after being in the air-conditioning all day.

  She continued on past the high school where the football team practiced and used her worry over what to do to propel her faster. Who had time to take things slow? She certainly didn’t.

  “You have another run-in with Mrs. McCleary?” Bryan asked from behind her.

  She stumbled and had to alter her stride to keep from falling on her face. Turning, she glanced behind her to make sure her hearing wasn’t playing tricks on her, and sure enough, there he was. Bryan’s thickly muscled arms pumped
in sync with hers, his broad chest bare and glistening with sweat.

  After their argument on Monday evening, they’d fallen into a routine, that of Bryan working the back of the practice, her working the front. When their paths did cross, it was always about a patient, always brief and to the point, and always layered with courtesy that had nothing to do with breasts or intimacy or even coffins.

  “What are you doing here?” She huffed slightly, breathless, which angered her even more. Bryan wasn’t winded at all.

  “Same as you—running off some demons.”

  They jogged side by side for several blocks, Bryan thankfully silent, and rounded the corner where the courthouse park came into view.

  “First to the center fountain?”

  She hesitated for a long moment, then remembered all the challenges issued during those long summer days growing up. Why not? Running hard meant no talking. She shrugged. “Go!”

  Bryan watched as Melissa took off with a burst of speed. She had a power behind her stride that any runner would envy. All the more impressive given her illness and whatever residual effects she suffered.

  He increased his pace, realized he had to go even faster to catch her and pushed hard to edge her out at the last moment. They both slowed, gasping, and he bent with his hands on his knees, staring at Melissa in amazement because she grinned from ear to ear. Quite a change from the office.

  “Oh, wow. I haven’t done that in ages. That felt good!”

  That it had. Almost as good as—he shut his mind off to where it was headed in relation to her and smiled back. “Too bad you didn’t stand a chance of winning.”

  Her laughter filled the air and a couple old men playing chess under a shade tree looked their way, then went back to their game.

  “Ha! You barely beat me. And, well, after all, you are my boss.”

  He straightened, enjoying her change of mood, wanting to try again to talk about that evening at the B and B, but unable to figure out a way to bring it into the conversation without sounding forced or—worse—ruin her good mood since it was the first he’d seen in days. “You did not let me win.”

  “If you say so.”

  Bryan took a couple of threatening steps in her direction only to stop when she began jogging in place. “Ready to go again?”

  He was ready to go, all right.

  * * *

  BY FRIDAY things were looking up. The last patient had just left, and this time when she locked the door it wasn’t out of exhausted desperation, but with the knowledge that her first week was over and—she could handle this.

  After their run she and Bryan had gone their separate ways, and at work the next day she’d found herself shaking her head more than once at the antics of some of Bryan’s female patients. And at him. Bryan enjoyed the attention the women gave him whether they were ninety or nine. The flirting, the smiles—everyone enjoyed playing with Taylorsville’s Most Eligible Bachelor.

  She shook her head at the drama, glad she was able to view it as the comedic forum it was, desperate to ignore the twinges inside her that resembled jealousy. She was not jealous.

  “I’m going to the new Chinese place to get some dinner. You hungry? My treat. You can go with me and eat there, or I’ll get it to go and bring it here before we work on the fund-raiser. What do you say?” Bryan asked from the other side of the reception’s half wall. “Either way I’d like to celebrate.”

  Did she want to be seen in public with Bryan after what had happened at the B and B? “Celebrate what?”

  “You. It’s been a long, hard week full of problems and trials, but you’re still here and the desk is visible. Come on, you in?” He grinned his wicked grin. “You need to replace some of the carbs you lost running this week and build up for next time.”

  Running with him had unintentionally become a habit in the evenings. If doing so two evenings in a row counted as a “habit.” Neither of them had said a word about joining up Thursday evening at a specific time, but sure enough, as she’d rounded the corner of Tiger Drive leading to the high school, Bryan had been crossing the street behind her, their strides easily matching.

  “Well?”

  Considering the alternative was an empty house and walls that had a tendency to close in on her, Chinese sounded wonderful. “I’m in. Since you’re buying,” she clarified.

  His grin widened. “Any special requests?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “Ah, an adventurous woman. I like it.”

  She laughed softly and shook her head, determined the extra little thump her heart made at his response was normal. The man had flirting down to an art form, and she had to remind herself—often—that it was Bryan’s nature, nothing to be taken seriously. At least not when it came to her.

  “Wait. You mentioned dropping off the old printer to be repaired earlier. Any chance you might pick up a large pad of art paper? I’d like to sketch out a spreadsheet before attempting to use Excel.”

  “You got it. Be right back.” He turned, then paused. “Lock up behind me okay? I don’t want you here with the doors unlocked.”

  “Yessir,” she countered, saluting. “You know, you’re as bad as my dad. Nothing major ever happens here, but I know to always keep the doors locked and do. Quit worrying.”

  “Even if it doesn’t happen here, you never know what crazies are out there.”

  Melissa followed him down the hall while he gathered up the broken printer and left the office via the back door. Once she’d dutifully locked it, she retraced her steps and finished the filing on her desk, finalized the payments and made sure they coincided with the insurance forms and had just printed the list of patient files she needed to pull for Monday when someone began banging on the front door.

  Chapter 11

  MELISSA GASPED, startled by the loud noise. The blinds were pulled, but she knew it wasn’t Bryan. He’d use his key or at least identify himself. Especially after their conversation.

  The pounding had started off strong but grew weaker. Lower?

  She ran for the door, hearing broken sobs on the other side. Regardless of the heart-wrenching noise, though, her dad’s warnings sounded in her head and she peeked through the blind. Sure enough, a woman was outside, her car sitting sideways in front of the glass door. No one else looked to be around, and Melissa fumbled with the lock.

  “Help me. Please…”

  “Shh, it’s okay.” She knelt beside her in the doorway. “You’re okay. Let’s get you in here and I’ll call the doctor.”

  Melissa helped the woman to her feet and supported her long enough to get her to the closest chair. She got her seated, took in her swollen face and the bruises on her arm in the shape of fingers, and the sight had her running to relock the door before she called Bryan.

  Voice mail. She swallowed a groan. “Bryan, it’s me—uh, Melissa. You need to come back to the office right away. You have an emergency patient and I—” she turned her back and lowered her voice “—think she might have been beaten.” She hung up and hurried over to the woman. “What’s your name? Can you tell me what happened?”

  The young woman shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Wh-where’s the doctor?”

  “He’ll be here soon. I’m going to go call the hospital and get—”

  “No. No hospital. The doctor can f-fix me. He’s…he’s done it before.”

  Her heart stilled. “Is your name Anna?” A sobbing nod was her answer. “Anna, please, I need to call the squad. I called Dr. Booker, but he might not get my message right away, and I don’t know how to help you. I’m not a nurse.”

  “No. I just n-need the doctor.”

  Melissa brushed the girl’s hair away from her face, careful to stay clear of the blood. She looked so familiar. “Anna…” Realization dawned, a flash of memory, that of big eyes and a ponytail, a bright smile. “Anna Pritchard? Macy Morgan’s daughter?”

  “Y-yeah. Who are you?”

  “I’m Melissa York. When I was in college
I used to work at the school as a teacher’s aid for Mrs. Evans. You were in her class.”

  The teenager sniffled, her bleary gaze sharpening for a moment before pain dulled it again. “Yeah…I remember you.”

  Melissa heard a noise at the end of the hall, the sound of the back door being unlocked and opened. Bryan.

  “We’re up front!”

  Bryan ran into the waiting area. “Who’s the—Anna.”

  The girl wouldn’t look at him. Bryan knelt beside her and Melissa caught her breath when she saw his expression. Bryan might be a player, but in that instant she saw how kind, how compassionate, how caring he really was.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to the exam room.”

  Her heart in her throat, Melissa followed them slowly.

  “I h-had another accident,” Anna said as Bryan settled her on the table.

  “Save it, Anna. This was no accident.”

  The girl sniffled. “He’s just…it’s been so hard. He lost his job.”

  “That’s no excuse to hit you.”

  “He—he was angry and yelling, and I backed up and tripped.”

  “Don’t make excuses.” Bryan’s eyebrows pulled low. “That only makes it worse.”

  “But I did!”

  “After he shoved you?”

  Her face flushed. “He got mad because I broke something his mom g-gave him.” She lifted her hand and gingerly touched the bruise on her cheek, wincing. “Do you… Could you give me some samples again? I—I only work part-time and I don’t have any insurance.” She lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to be such a bother when I can’t… If you don’t want me to come here anymore—”

  “I want you to come anytime you need help, Anna. Regardless of whether you can pay.”

  Bryan continued to talk to the girl while Melissa retrieved supplies and bandages and helped where she could. Once he’d checked Anna over thoroughly, Bryan took a step back and smiled grimly. “I’ll go get the meds from the closet. Hang tight, I’ll be right back.” Walking toward Melissa, his gaze met and held hers meaningfully. By her side, he paused. “See if you can talk to her?”