Being a nurse for fifteen years, she’d had to learn to shut down the attraction or growing friendships with patients. She knew how to do it, and she’d use every evasive skill in her repertoire to make it through the day.
“He has a lot of nerve, chastising you when he’s the biggest flirt I’ve ever seen at work. He used to think the nursing staff was his own personal dating pool,” JT said later that day while she assisted with his leg exercises.
“I don’t think he’s interested in nurses any more.” It slipped out before she could catch herself.
“You mean the fact that he has a thing for my ex-wife? Is that the hospital gossip?”
“No. I’ve never heard anything about it at work.”
“What are you getting at, Mallory? Do you know something I don’t?”
“No.” She tried to keep busy, fussing with things near his bed to distract her gaze, but his large hand wrapped around hers and put a quick end to it.
“I know Samantha sees other men, if that’s what you’re getting at. I also know she wants full custody of Corey.”
OK, why not? He had his suspicions anyway. “Actually, last night when I picked up the food, I saw them together at Chinois. They looked…involved.”
“Involved as in conversation?”
“Involved as in…kissing.”
An expression of complete understanding burned on his cheeks. “That leech wants my job and my ex-wife.”
*
On Sunday morning Samantha delivered Corey for the all-day visit, as she’d promised. She kissed him goodbye and reminded him she’d be back in four hours.
“Any plans for your free time, Sammy?” JT asked.
She looked uneasy, and maybe a bit surprised. “I’ll probably go shopping.”
“Ah. Don’t forget the credit card. Oh, have you changed it to your own name yet?”
She shot daggers from narrow angry eyes, turned on her heel and left without a word.
Oblivious, or at least pretending to be unaware of the tension between his parents, Corey came bounding up to his father, who was sitting in the wheelchair near the window.
“Hey, bud,” JT said, opening his arms.
“Dad, I’ve told you not to call me that.”
“Oh, right. Hey, dude, check this out.” He lifted a knee and kicked out his foot.
“Wow! You’re getting better.”
They hugged.
“You bet I am. Pretty soon you’ll be able to spend the whole weekend with me, just like before.”
“Cool. What happened to your eye?”
Early shades of blue-green and purple painted his brow beneath the tiny bandages. “A brow piercing gone wrong.”
“Ah, come on, Dad. You’d never get your eyebrow pierced.”
“OK. I was stupid and tried to stand by myself. I guess I’m not quite ready to do that yet.”
“It’s a good thing your nurse was around.”
“Hi, Corey,” Mallory said. “Remember me?” She’d noticed the boy had combed his hair down instead of in the trendy faux Mohawk hairdo from last weekend.
“Yeah, you’re the think-fast nurse.”
She giggled and handed him another gizmo. “Yep. And today I’ll need your help with this. Your dad has to squeeze it twelve times in each hand four different times. I need you to make sure he doesn’t cheat or quit.”
“I’m on it,” he said, snatching it up. “This looks like a pair of pliers.” He tried pressing it shut. “Wow. This is really stiff.”
Later, when she’d put JT back on the bed, she showed Corey how to work his father’s right leg while she exercised the left one. Corey never complained. In fact, he worked earnestly to help his dad. Father and son carried on a relaxed banter throughout, and in the strangest way she felt a part of their little family.
“Am I helping you get well, Dad?”
“You bet you are.”
“And Nurse Think Fast is too.”
“Right again.”
Against her better judgement, but wanting Corey to see more progress with his father’s recovery, Mallory summoned Jake to assist with getting JT into the wheelchair again. Dr. Berger be damned.
“Listen, boss, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take the afternoon off.”
“Sure. You should do that more often, Jake. You have a hot date?”
The old man laughed. “A friend got me some tickets to the Dodgers baseball game.”
“Enjoy.”
After lunch, Mallory could tell that Corey was getting a little restless so she suggested they all go out back and take in some sunshine. Corey ran to his own bedroom in the house and found two baseball mitts and a large soft ball. JT brought his camera.
“Hey, Dad, will you play catch?”
“Sure thing, dude. But first, want me to show you how to take really good pictures?”
“Yeah!”
An hour later JT gave Mallory a beseeching look. “You know what I’d really like about now?”
Oh, God, please, don’t say “a kiss” in front of your son.
“An ice-cream cone.”
“Me, too. Me, too,” Corey chimed in.
“But we don’t have any cones here, I don’t think,” she said.
“There’s an ice-cream store three blocks away. If I pay, will you drive?”
“I can’t leave you alone. I’m on duty!”
“Please, Nurse, please, bring us ice creams.”
She glared at JT for planting the thought in his son’s head. He perceived her message.
“Listen, Mallory, I promise not to move or try to get up. One fall for the week is enough. Corey will hold me to it. Right, Corey?”
“Yeah. I promise to look after my dad.”
How could she resist the huge blue eyes of Corey, the image of his father when he looked at her like that?
Assessing the situation, father and son playing catch in the back yard—one of them a mature adult who was no longer completely helpless, the other a good, though occasionally rambunctious kid—she decided it would be OK to make a quick ice-cream run.
“Oh, OK. But I’m leaving your cellphone with you. I’ll only be gone fifteen minutes. Not a second longer, I promise. Now what flavors do you want?”
*
The ice-cream store was packed, and it took closer to thirty minutes to buy the treats and drive back to the Prescott house. Mallory’s heart sank when she arrived and recognized Dr. Berger’s car, and in front of it Samantha’s Jaguar.
CHAPTER SIX
MALLORY parked the car, gathered the cardboard transport box with the three cones in small cups, and took a deep breath. She’d need all the nerve she could call up. How could she explain to Dr. Berger and Samantha Prescott that she hadn’t been negligent, neither had she abandoned her job, when she’d left the premises while on duty?
She couldn’t.
Her stomach cramped, and she closed her eyes. “I’ve totally blown it.” With her arms covered in anxious tingles, she bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering. She shook her head, hoping to generate an idea.
Having left JT and Corey out back, she got out of the car and retraced her steps to the backyard down the red-brick walk at the side of the house. If she ever got sent before a firing squad, she suspected it would feel something like this.
She heard quarreling long before she reached the gate.
“What if you’d had an emergency?” said Dr. Berger in a grating voice. “What would that trauma do to your son?”
Oh, no. Please, don’t drag Corey into this fight. Don’t force him to take sides or be in the middle of your manipulation. Had Dr. Berger any knowledge of child psychology? He was making Corey feel guilty about loving his father. Please, don’t make him take sides.
She leaned against the garage wall to gather her wits and listened to the voices raised in anger.
“What if he’d fallen and hurt himself?” came Samantha’s shrill response.
“I have a cellphone, Samantha. I’m not an idio
t.”
“I…I just wanted an ice-cream cone,” Corey said, sounding forlorn.
“This just shows that I can’t trust Corey with you ever again,” Samantha said, her voice rising. “I’ve said it before, but now I’m adamant. I want total custody.”
“Now is not the time to have this conversation.” JT’s booming response forced everyone into silence.
With the lull, Mallory took a deep breath, opened the creaking cedar gate and drew everyone’s attention her way. Dr. Berger and Samantha glared at her. Corey looked torn about his ice cream, and stopped himself from running up to her after a few steps.
The knot in her stomach grew to the size of a soccer ball.
JT sat straight and proud in the wheelchair, sunlight shining in his raven hair. He clenched his jaw and didn’t so much as glance her way.
Was JT so ready to dismiss her? What about everything he’d said? Pain cut like a searing dagger through her chest. So her fears had been justified. He wanted a playmate, someone to distract him while he healed, but when things got sticky he would cut her free.
She could hardly breathe, but she was damned if she’d give Samantha, Dr. Berger and, most especially, JT the satisfaction of seeing her come apart in front of them.
“I suppose there is no explaining why I left the premises.”
“As a matter of fact, no,” Dr. Berger said with a cutting tone. “Consider yourself fired and pack up.”
“Knock it off, Wayne. She works for me, and I’ll make that decision.” JT used his strong forearms to spin the wheelchair in Wayne’s direction.
“I beg to differ, JT. She works for Mercy Hospital and I’m your attending physician. I deem her guilty of dereliction of duty.” Dr. Berger leaned forward, invading JT’s space. “I believe you authored that regulation in hospital protocol yourself.” He turned his head and stared Mallory down as though he was a deer hunter taking aim. “You’re not to work with Dr. Prescott again. And I’m not sure you’ll have a job at Mercy Hospital either, when this is all over.”
She caught herself from dropping the ice cream. “Corey? Would you like your cone?” For the boy’s sake, she willed herself to stay calm and composed, though her hands were flapping enough to turn the ice cream into milkshakes. Corey edged her way, until Samantha stopped him cold with an admonishing glare.
“Dr. Prescott?” Mallory knew ice cream was the last thing on his mind at this moment, but she had to look at him to see where he stood. He didn’t respond. Not with her apparently. “Right, I’ll get my things.”
Crushed by his passive response, she fought the stinging behind her eyelids. She was damned if she’d let him see how much he’d hurt her. Why had she let herself believe all his flattery—and that was all that it had been—when he’d used her for his own pleasure? How could she have been so stupid? And, most importantly, where was JT now when she needed someone in her corner? He didn’t even have the decency to look at her.
Disheartened and defeated, Mallory made an about-face, dumped the ice cream into the trashcan at the side of the house, and used the garage entrance to go inside to retrieve her nurse’s bag and what was left of her pride.
She’d blown her job, big time, and there was no wriggling out of this one. But, far worse, she’d let herself down by trusting the wrong man. The best thing she could do right now was pack up and leave.
And tomorrow she hoped her nursing position at Mercy Hospital wouldn’t be the next job she got fired from.
*
“I need to use the bathroom. Take me inside,” JT said, staring down Wayne. He’d wait until Corey was well out of earshot before he unloaded his anger on Berger.
“I’m going to take Corey home now. I’ll get you some ice cream, sweetie. Don’t worry,” Samantha said, sweeter than sugar.
“Corey? Come here, son.”
The boy moved with hesitation, as though afraid to make anyone angry with him. Damn. JT didn’t want to add to his grief, but he wanted to make sure the boy knew he wasn’t in trouble and wasn’t to blame.
When Corey reached him, he opened his arms to give him a hug. “None of this is your fault. Don’t think for one second that it is.”
Corey’s narrow shoulders stiffened and he nodded his head. “I just wanted ice cream.”
Corey fought back tears, and JT’s heart gripped so hard he thought it might explode from the pressure. “I did, too, and there was nothing wrong with that.” He rubbed his son’s back. “You know how sometimes we talk about making good choices in life? Well, I guess I didn’t do such a good job today. I’m sorry.”
“That’s OK, Dad. I still love you.”
“Kiss your father goodbye. We’re leaving.” Samantha commanded.
Kiss my ass, Sammy. That’s what he wanted to say, but this time he made the right choice and kept his mouth shut. That was after he said, “I love you too, Corey.”
So he’d lost his woman and son for a stinking ice-cream cone. Who’d ever have guessed?
“Wayne, roll me inside,” he said after they’d left. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
Wayne looked irritated, like it just dawned on him that he was “it” until home health provided another caregiver. He reluctantly rolled JT inside, and handed him the container to urinate in.
Once Berger had washed his hands, he got on his cellphone and made contact with the home health representative. After he’d arranged for a temporary replacement for Mallory, he rolled JT back toward his bed, then stood there with his hands in his pockets, as if JT could jump from wheelchair to bed without any assistance.
“Help me out here.” JT was determined to keep his cool, though he’d chewed the inside of his mouth until he’d drawn blood.
Looking awkward, Wayne assessed the situation with shifty eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
“Pull me up and pivot me around so I can sit on the bed.”
They performed a clumsy dance but managed to land JT on his bed. Interesting. He caught a potent whiff of Samantha’s favorite overpriced perfume on Wayne’s golf shirt. Maybe they’d spent the afternoon together while Corey had been here? But why had they come to pick him up early? If they’d only arrived twenty minutes later, this fiasco could have been avoided.
“Now lift my legs for me.”
Once JT was on his bed he asked for a glass of water to get Wayne out of the room so he could think straight. How was he supposed to save Mallory’s neck when he’d written the hospital protocol? The coppery taste of blood reminded him to quit chewing the inside of his mouth. And how the hell was he going to explain to her why he’d left her for the wolves? Somehow he had to get back in control of his life.
When Wayne returned with the drink, he grimaced and scratched his neck as he handed it over, looking like he had something he wanted to add to their prior conversation.
“You may think fraternizing with your nurse is OK, but Mercy Hospital will have no part of it.” He set the glass on the bedside table.
JT grabbed Wayne by the collar and yanked him down to his eye level, surprised by his own burst of strength. “What about you fraternizing with my wife, Wayne? Is that acceptable? Would Mercy Hospital be interested in hearing about that?”
JT let go after a long, heated staring contest. Wayne cautiously stood up and straightened his shirt. “She’s your ex-wife, if you recall,” he growled.
“She wasn’t when you started seeing her. We both know that. And Hospital Medical Director is not my ex-job.” He jabbed the air with his finger. “Don’t forget it.”
Wayne backed away from the bed. Sure, JT had been thinking about giving up the job for a full-time medical practice again, but over his dead body would he hand the medical directorship over to Wayne.
“And, furthermore, I’m firing you. From now on Joel Hersh will be my personal physician.”
“I’m sure hospital administration will be most interested in seeing this little photograph I found.” Wayne dug into his pants pocket. “I believe you took it?” He flashe
d the photo of Mallory with her blouse off her shoulder. “Or maybe this one, too.” He pulled out a blurred black and white photo of the two of them kissing on his bed, when she’d come to visit him last Tuesday night.
JT froze. The second picture had obviously been taken from the surveillance video camera. How much more had they seen?
He thought Jake had turned the system off at his order when he’d been able to talk again. And who had access to his personal camera besides Jake?
Whose side was Jake on?
Crushed by the knowledge he couldn’t trust anyone, and that the only person he dared trust had just gotten fired because he’d been too much of a coward to stick up for her, JT shut down his mind in exchange for emotional paralysis.
“We can strike a deal. Right now,” Wayne said cautiously. “It has come to my attention that Mallory used a part-time chart-room employee to read your inpatient medical records. That violation of the hospital privacy act alone will ensure she gets fired.”
“I gave her permission,” JT lied.
“Rubbish! I know you’ve got the hots for her, and that she has a daughter away at college. I’ll make sure the nurse keeps her job at Mercy, and you can screw her all you want, as far as I’m concerned, if you’ll turn the medical directorship over to me, and Corey over to Samantha.”
“Go to hell, Berger. I don’t do blackmail.”
*
Late that night, Mallory tossed and turned in bed. Her lack of professionalism had cost her the extra job, and she was afraid she’d lose her full-time hospital job, too. She’d rushed into a relationship with a patient, a big no-no, and needed to backpedal for a while.
JT had let her down so hard that her wounds would need months to heal. Why couldn’t she have figured it out before she’d gotten hurt?
What was it about JT that had made her cross the line? It wasn’t his chiseled features—she’d come to him when he’d looked his worse. It wasn’t money or power—he’d been at his weakest. It wasn’t charm—he’d been vile toward her at first.
In His Angel's Arms Page 9
