“Are you sure?” she asks.
“Positive.” I take her coffee cup and set it on the table. “Come on, lie down. Doctor’s orders.”
She flashes me a grin. “All right, Dr. Jacobsen. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Shit, it’s hot when she tells me she’ll do what I say. I hesitate, watching her as she lies down, overcome with the desire to kiss her. I could lean down slowly, see how she reacts. If she turns away, I could stop. But if she doesn’t…
I clear my throat and get up, my cock straining against my pants. What is wrong with me? She’s hurt. Vulnerable. I have to quit fantasizing about taking advantage of her.
Cody gets my car for me—yet another thing I need to thank him for. As frustrated as I am to be lying down all day, I have to admit, he’s right. I need the rest. I can tell when I overdo it. My head aches and the nausea comes back. So I spend a few days lying on his couch and sleeping in his bed. No matter how hard I try to convince him to take his room back, he won’t hear of it.
I’m so tempted to ask him to join me in bed. Every evening he says goodnight and I wander up the stairs, wondering if I should just ask. What’s the harm in that? We’re both single adults. But I can’t make myself do it. He’s been such a gentleman, it feels wrong.
I swear there are moments when he looks at me as if he wants the same thing. There’s a hunger in his eyes. But he always backs off so quickly. Maybe I’m imagining it, and he doesn’t want me. I decide that it’s best if I don’t complicate things.
By Wednesday, I’m going out of my mind—and not just because I bumped my head. I decide it’s time to get out of the house. Cody works all day, but I figure I can find my way around. Jetty Beach isn’t a big town.
I drive around a bit to get my bearings, then circle back down Main Street. It’s so cute, with trees lining the street, and pretty hanging baskets spilling pink, red, and white flowers. I pull into a parking spot—the second one that’s open, not the first. I get out and look around. Right in front of me, I see what I’m looking for: a coffee shop.
Cody does not understand coffee, so the supplies at his house are less than ideal. I’m dying for a good cup. Old Town Café looks like just the sort of place to serve the good stuff. I resolve to see if they sell bags of whole beans, and I’ll find a good quality grinder and French press. Then I can make it at home.
I roll my eyes. It isn’t home. It’s Cody’s house, and I need to remember that finding a new place to live should be at the top of my list.
The café smells amazing. Fresh coffee, baked goods, and they have a full kitchen. I worked at a café with a full menu once, but despite telling them I can cook, they never let me touch the food.
A pleasant-looking woman in her forties is behind the counter. “What can I get you?”
I look at the case. “Coffee, and a blueberry muffin. Those look amazing.”
“We bake them fresh every day,” she says, opening the case on her side and reaching in with a napkin to grab a muffin.
“Do you? Yum.”
“For here, or to go?” she asks.
“I’ll stay.”
She puts my muffin on a plate and pours my coffee into the cutest ceramic mug. It looks like a chalkboard.
“Cream and sugar are over there,” she says, pointing to a side table.
“Thank you so much,” I say. I hand her the money. “This looks wonderful.”
“No problem,” she says with a smile.
I pause at the counter. Should I? Why not. “Say, you don’t happen to be hiring?”
She tilts her head at me. “I might be.”
I smile. I knew it. “Well, if you are, I’d love the opportunity to apply.”
She grabs a towel and wipes off her hands, her eyes still on me. Is she deciding if I look like Old Town Café material?
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare,” she says. “It’s just so odd that you asked that when you did. One of my employees quit not ten minutes ago, and didn’t give any notice.”
A tingle runs up my spine. It’s a sign. “That’s not good.”
“No, it isn’t. She put me in a really bad position,” she said. “I know you didn’t come here prepared to interview, but would you mind sitting down with me over your coffee?”
“I would love to,” I say with a smile.
She comes around the counter and we go to a table next to the window. I set my muffin and coffee down and take a seat across from her.
“I’m Natalie,” she says, holding out her hand.
“Clover,” I say, shaking it. “And yes, that’s my real name, no my parents didn’t hate me, but yes they were hippies. My last name is Fields, if you can believe it.”
Natalie laughs. “I suppose you get a lot of questions about your name.”
“All the time,” I say.
“Are you new in town?” she asks.
I nod. “I got in last Friday.”
“And why did you move to Jetty Beach?” Natalie asks.
“It was time for a change,” I say with a shrug.
“I can understand that,” she says. “What about experience?”
“Oh, I’ve worked in a lot of coffee shops,” I say. “I’ve also been a dog groomer, worked in a flower shop, been a hostess at a restaurant, and a few other things.” Natalie’s eyes look a little wide, so I press on. “I know that makes me sound like a huge flake, but it’s just that I’ve moved around, so I had to get new jobs. Plus, I like trying new things.”
“All right,” Natalie says. “What would you say is your best quality as an employee.”
I love this question. “I’m very cheerful, even when customers aren’t. I get a lot of compliments on my smile, and my favorite thing is to make other people feel happy.”
Natalie smiles at me. “I can see that. What’s your biggest challenge, then? What do you struggle with?”
I take a deep breath. I don’t want to have to tell her this, but if she asks for a reference from my last job, she’s going to find out anyway. “Sometimes I’m a little clumsy. Or maybe a lot clumsy. I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, but I don’t like being dishonest. I was fired from my last job. I broke some things, and I ran into a customer, spilling an iced blended green tea latte all over him.”
Natalie winces. “That’s too bad.”
“Well, to be fair, it was a really small shop and always super crowded. And I swear, I’ll try so hard not to drop anything if you hire me.”
“I appreciate your honesty, and if the worst thing about you is that we lose a few mugs, I think we’ll be doing fine.”
I sit up a little taller and try not to make any squeeing noises.
“If you think you’ll be living in Jetty Beach for a while, I’d love to give this a try,” Natalie says. “You’re very personable and I think you’d fit in really well here. I suppose I should ask how you are at making coffee.”
“I make the best coffee in the world,” I say. I’m totally and completely serious. I really do.
Natalie smiles at me again. “That settles it, I suppose. When can you start?”
My hand drifts up to the bump on my head. It is so polite of her not to mention it. I figure Cody would say I should wait until next week before I start working, but the sooner I start, the sooner I’ll be back on my feet. I figure I’ll split the difference. “How about Saturday?”
“Perfect,” she says. “If you can, come in Friday afternoon. We’ll fill out some paperwork, and I can show you around.”
“I will, definitely,” I say. I’m having a hard time containing myself. “Thank you so much, Natalie. This is amazing.”
“Thank you, Clover,” she says. “I almost feel like this was meant to be.”
Hell yes, it’s meant to be. “I do too. Thank you.”
She leaves me to my coffee and muffin, although I’m not hungry anymore. I’m too excited. I have a job. A job means money, and money means a place to live, and a place to live means I can stay in Jetty Beach. I have to t
ell Cody.
I leave the rest of my coffee and take my muffin in a to-go bag. I’m not sure where his clinic is, but my mapping app finds it and I drive straight there, passing through the rest of the downtown strip. I already love this town—it’s so cute. Maybe Cody and I can go to the beach to celebrate. I practically bounce in my seat, I’m so thrilled.
I go into the clinic and walk up to the front desk. The lady behind the counter is wearing a bright blue blouse and her hair is pulled up in a bun.
“Hi,” I say. “I need to see Co—I mean, Dr. Jacobsen, please.”
“Do you have an appointment?” she asks.
“Oh, no, I just want to see if he’s available for lunch.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“Nope,” I say with a smile.
The front desk lady’s brow furrows and she glances at a nurse in purple scrubs grabbing something off a printer behind her. “Is Dr. J with a patient?”
“No, he’s in his office,” the nurse says.
Front Desk Lady picks up her phone and presses a button. “Hi, Dr. J. There’s someone out front who would like to see you.” She looks up at me. “What’s your name?”
“Clover,” I say.
She looks even more confused. I don’t understand what the big deal is. “She says her name is Clover. Okay, I’ll let her know.” She puts down the phone. “He’ll be right out.”
“Thank you,” I say with a big smile.
I take a seat in the waiting area and pick up a trashy magazine. They’re the best thing about waiting rooms. I thumb through, glancing at the pictures of celebrities in beautiful clothes.
Cody comes through the door next to the front desk. “Clover, what are you doing here? Are you okay?”
I practically drool. He looks so good in his pale green button-down shirt and striped tie, with the stethoscope around his neck. So serious and doctory.
I stand. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m great, actually. Can you grab lunch?”
“What?” he asks. “No, I have patients to see.”
“Oh. Sorry. I thought…”
He glances at Front Desk Lady, who is clearly staring at us. “Let me walk you out.”
I’m so surprised, I go out to my car without saying a word. I haven’t had a chance to tell him my great news.
He stands next to the driver’s side door of my car. “Why are you driving? You should be lying down.”
“I’m tired of lying down, and I feel fine,” I say. “I got a job.”
“You what?”
Why is this such a shock? Am I such a disaster that he can’t believe I found a job right away? “A job. You know, the thing where you go to work and they pay you?”
“Where?”
“Old Town Café,” I say. “I went in to get coffee and thought I’d ask. It turned out she had an employee quit just before I got there. It was totally meant to be.”
“That’s great, Clover,” he says, looking back at the door to the clinic.
“So I thought I’d come tell you, and you’d be happy for me, and we could go have lunch. It’s noon, and you went to work at like six this morning.”
His face shows surprise, and I realize it’s probably weird that I know that, given that I was upstairs in his bedroom and should have been sleeping. But I hear him get up and shower in the other bathroom every morning. I always imagine what he looks like naked, and can’t get back to sleep.
“I did, but like I said, I have patients to see,” he says. “I’m happy for you about the job, but you can’t just show up here like this.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, looking away. I feel awful. Of course he can’t just leave. He’s a doctor. People put their lives in his hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I was just so excited, I wanted to tell someone. And, well, I don’t know anyone else.”
His face softens and he touches my arm. Oh, I like it when he does that.
“I’m sorry, I’m just really busy today. Congratulations on the job. That’s really good news. I’m impressed.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely,” he says. “You haven’t even been here a week, and you managed a head injury and a new job.”
I give him a playful smack on the arm. “Okay, go save lives or whatever.”
He laughs. “I don’t know about that, but I do have to get back. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“Sure.” I open my car door.
“And Clover?”
“Yes?”
“Go lie down,” he says. “You’ve had a busy day. Your brain needs rest.”
“Yes, Dr. J,” I say with a grin.
I get in my car, but I’m not going to head to his place yet. I have a lot of thanking to do, and now that I have a job lined up I don’t have to be quite so worried about spending a little money. As much as I want to thank Cody in other ways, I have an idea. I’ll make him dinner.
How long has it been since he’s come home from work to a hot meal? I wonder if his ex cooked for him. Well, if there’s one thing I can do as well as make coffee, it’s cook. I’ll stop at the grocery store, get ingredients, and make him something fantastic. It’s the least I can do after everything he’s done for me.
Quite pleased with myself, I drive off to put my plan into action.
Clover’s surprise visit sets me on edge. I walk past the front desk, knowing Darcy’s eyes are on me. When it comes to gossip, my front desk staff is rivaled only by the nursing staff. They’re going to have a field day trying to figure out Clover.
I go back to my office and have just enough time to check my messages before Maria, my nurse, buzzes me to say my next patient is waiting. I bring up the chart on my tablet. Shit. It’s Lyle Brown. If he’s here, it probably means his treatment isn’t working. Which means I’ll need to go back to the drawing board.
Lyle is a man in his mid-forties who came to me recently with stiffness and muscle spasms, primarily in his neck, upper back, and shoulders. I followed standard protocol and sent him home with a sedative to help him sleep and muscle relaxers to ease the spasms. I haven’t heard from him, so I hoped he was doing better.
I can tell by his face when I enter the exam room that he’s not better. “Hi, Lyle. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“No,” he says. He winces and his hand clenches a few times.
“Still having trouble?” I ask. I swipe across my tablet screen, looking at his chart to refresh my memory. “Last time you had muscle spasms and quite a lot of pain. Is that still the case?”
“Afraid so,” he says. “I figured I’d just tough it out, but my wife made another appointment.”
Thank goodness for wives, or I’d lose half my male patients. “That was the right thing to do. If the treatment isn’t working, we need to reevaluate. Have you been taking the muscle relaxers?”
“I have.”
“Have you noticed any improvement?”
“No, not really.”
That isn’t what I want to hear. “Okay, let’s have a look.”
I check him over, but I’m not sure what I’ll find that’s new. He’s an otherwise healthy, active adult male without any history of medical problems. I can feel his neck muscles contracting, and his back shows signs of acute muscular stress as well. He must be in a lot of pain.
“Lyle, I’d like to do another blood panel and see if we can start ruling things out,” I say. “I might need to order additional tests, but I need to see your blood work first. I don’t want to put you through anything that isn’t necessary. Unfortunately, at this point there are a lot of things that can cause your symptoms. We need to investigate further and start crossing things off that list. Once we narrow it down, we’ll know what else to test for. In the meantime, I can give you a different muscle relaxer if the one you’re taking isn’t providing enough relief. I can prescribe pain relief as well, if you need it.”
“Thanks Dr. J,” he says. “The sleeping stuff you gave me knocks me out pretty well at night, but I’m struggling during the day.
It’s hard to work.”
“I’ll do what I can to help you be more comfortable while we wait on your results,” I say. “Maria will come back and take some blood, and then I need you to set up a follow-up appointment. Do it before you go, so you don’t forget.”
“Believe me, my wife won’t let me forget,” he says. “She’ll be after me for all the details. She would have come with me, but she had to work.”
“I understand,” I say. “Lyle, we’re going to figure this out. I’ll do some research and see what else I can find while we wait for your blood work. Hang in there, okay?”
“Will do, doc.”
I send Maria in to take blood and go back to my office. I need a moment to collect myself before my next patient. The only thing worse than losing a patient is watching one suffer and not knowing how to help them. I already looked up a list of possibilities that could account for Lyle’s symptoms after his last visit. None of them are good news, and most of them are degenerative. That means he’ll keep getting worse if we can’t find out what it is, and he might keep deteriorating even if we can. I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath. I’ll do everything I can for him, but I have to put some distance between me and his case—keep my emotions out of it.
The rest of my day goes smoothly. I have a one month well-baby visit, which are among my favorite appointments. The mom is doing wonderfully, and her son is thriving. I see several other children for checkups, as well as a couple sick visits, and one patient with a broken arm. All in all, a pretty typical day at my practice.
I spend time after my last patient finishing up my charts and taking care of other business, including registering for a medical conference in Portland I’ve been wanting to attend.
Then I look at the clock and realize it’s after seven. I’m starving. I didn’t take much time for lunch—just grabbed a quick sandwich from Old Town Café around two. I think about picking something up on my way home, but I’m so tired, I don’t want to deal with it. I have food left from my shopping trip, I’m sure I’ll find something—even if it’s just frozen waffles.
Must Be Fate: (Cody and Clover) (A Jetty Beach Romance Book 3) Page 5
