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.
CHAPTER SIX
JOHN PARKED THE car, walked around to the other side, opened the passenger door and lifted Polly up and out. She slept sounder than his mother’s cat, and only stirred when he pulled her to his chest.
“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered in her ear, as he motioned with his head to the doorman of his building to let them in.
Marco the doorman gave a deeply inquisitive look but followed orders. John had been a resident in the building for three years now and had never brought a woman home in this condition.
“Drunk,” John mouthed to Marco, who gave an affirmative Aha nod.
“Park the car in your usual spot?” Marco whispered.
John nodded, knowing his car keys would be left in the parking-garage office where he paid a hefty monthly fee for the privilege of driving and parking in New York City.
He punched the elevator button with his elbow and hoped Polly didn’t wake up until he was ready. He’d driven the long way home around Central Park to make sure she’d fallen asleep deeply enough once he’d decided to bring her here.
As he rode the elevator to the ninth floor, he took the liberty to study her close up—flawless skin, though maybe a little pale, ash-blonde hair with waves that made him want to dig his fingers in every time he saw her. Her thick brown lashes fluttered the tiniest bit under his scrutiny and her nostrils twitched as she breathed softly. She was sweet and tender, and he felt the urge to kiss her.
The elevator door opened, and though it was a bit tricky to unlock his door with one hand while holding Polly with the other, he balanced her on his thigh and succeeded, and had them inside in no time at all. Before anyone on his floor had a chance to wonder what in the world he was doing with a woman in his arms on a Monday night at this late hour. He chuckled inwardly, thinking how they’d never probably even seen him with a woman before, had probably assumed he was gay or celibate.
The condo was dark, but he knew his way around by heart and took her immediately to the guest bedroom, where he carefully laid her on the double bed. She stirred but only to reposition herself on her side. Not wanting to freak her out in case she woke up, which surprisingly she still hadn’t, he laid a comforter over her, left the door ajar and went to the kitchen. There, he turned on the light and rummaged around the refrigerator for something to eat.
Three bites into a turkey and Cheddar sandwich he heard the gasp. “Where am I?”
He rushed down the hall to the bedroom. “Don’t worry, you’re at my place.”
“Why am I here?” She came to the door looking groggy and very appealing with mussed-up hair and heavy-lidded eyes.
“You didn’t tell me where you lived before you fell asleep, and you looked so comfortable I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
“So you thought you’d make me a prisoner at your house?”
“You’re not a prisoner.”
“Then you’ll take me home?”
“If you insist.”
She stood staring, obviously considering his offer. Maybe she needed some convincing.
“Look, I was thinking of your best interests. I’ve got the guest bedroom and you’ll get a good night’s sleep, then I’ll take you home in the morning.”
“I don’t have to work tomorrow because I did the double shift.”
“That’s fine.”
“Don’t you have to be at work?”
“Not until nine. It’s my clinic day.”
“So you’ll take me home before you go to work?”
He nodded.
She leaned against the doorframe looking drowsy and too tired to put up a fight. “Where’s your bathroom, please?”
He gestured with his forehead towards the door down the hall, then took another bite of sandwich.
On her way back to the guest room she slowed down by the kitchen and gave him a suspicious glance. “Don’t get any ideas about sneaking into that room tonight.” She pointed to the guest room.
“I won’t.”
“Because what we did was a one-time deal.”
He didn’t bother to swallow his bite of sandwich. “By my count, that was a three-time deal.”
Obviously too tired to put up a fight, she tossed him an aggravated look then went inside the guest room and closed the door. At least she didn’t lock it. He took the last bite of sandwich and decided he’d got a kick out of riling her. Come to think of it, there was a lot about Polly he got a kick out of. Now, if there was only a way to get her back into his life on much better terms.
Early the next morning, John had a full breakfast prepared by the time he tapped on her door and woke her up. She rolled out of the room, stretching and yawning and looking even more inviting than she had the night before.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Seven. Have some coffee. It’s decaf,” he said, before she could protest. Somehow he knew she’d take good care of the pregnancy. “I’ve scrambled some eggs and there’s fresh OJ over there. Do you like wheat or sourdough toast?”
“Wheat,” she said, before closing the bathroom door.
The fact that she didn’t throw a hissy fit or make a major protest about getting home right this minute gave him hope, and that notion made him smile. Maybe she was back to being that people-pleaser he liked so much, though the feisty version of Polly definitely had its merits. He smiled and pushed some perfectly scrambled eggs onto a second plate then sprinkled some finely grated Cheddar cheese on top.
They sat on bar stools in companionable silence while they ate at his granite counter.
“Tastes good,” she said, eating a second piece of toast slathered with blackberry jam.
“You’re eating for two now, right?”
He’d named the elephant in the
room, and she took her time to respond. “I don’t need you to remind me.” Her gaze was brief and filled with icy-blue warning.
“I want to be a part of this pregnancy, Polly.”
“That’s not the impression I got when I told you about it.”
“I was in shock.”
“You wanted nothing to do with me or this pregnancy. You tried to pay me off, as if I’d go away and never mention another word about it.”
He reached for her hand and squeezed. “I didn’t mean it to come off that way. I wanted you to know you weren’t in it alone, and that you didn’t have to worry about money. That’s all.”
She dropped her gaze toward her lap. “We’re not for sale.”
If that was the metaphor she wanted to run with, he’d play along. “Look at it from my perspective.” He pointed to her stomach. “There’s prime real estate inside there, and though you may be the landlord, I own half of it.”
She made a face at him. “Have you always been this romantic?”
He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
“You don’t have the right to make it all neat and tidy like that. Like a business deal.” Polly shoved another bite of egg into her mouth and stared straight ahead. Once she’d swallowed, she leveled a serious gaze at him. “I don’t have a clue what your issues are, but since I believe you do need to be there for this baby I’ll generously consider whatever part of ‘being there for this pregnancy’ you think you can handle.”
He grinned. That was the people-pleasing Polly he knew. “Good. For starters, I intend to go to all obstetric appointments with you.”
Her eyebrows dropped and furrowed. “That’s a very private thing.”
“And one doesn’t wind up pregnant by not doing a few very private things with the father of the baby, does one?”
She sighed. “Okay, you can come to the OB appointments.”
“And you should let me cook for you at least twice a week.”
“You cook?”
“What do you call these scrambled eggs?”
NYC Angels: Making the Surgeon Smile Page 9
