Artfully Yours

by Isabel North

  “I don’t know if it’s creepy, but we were neighbors.”

  “Neighbors? No. This was Mr. Adams’s place. Old guy. No kids.”

  “He was my grandfather.”

  She stared. “He sure as heck wasn’t Russian.”

  “Nope. One hundred percent bastard.”

  “You lived next door to me. I had no idea.” She held out her hand. “Well then, Alex Adams. Neighbor. Nice to meet you.”

  “Zacharov,” he said, taking her hand. “Alex Zacharov.”

  “You’re really tough to get to know.”

  “I’m simple. I’m a simple man.”

  “Uh-huh.” She gestured him up and down. “This is what simple looks like.”

  “To be fair, I was Alex Adams in high school. He made me change my name when I came to live with him, since he said he wasn’t having people think any grandkid of his was a damn Russian. Part of the deal. He was…controlling. He hated my father, and he extended me the same courtesy.”

  “Guess I just knew you as—” oh shit, don’t say it to his face, “—Alan,” she finished on a whisper.

  He gave her a level look. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yep. Yes, I do.”

  “That’s not what people called me. I know what they called me.” He leaned down and said into her ear, making her shiver, “It wasn’t Alan.”

  “I never called you that. The other thing.”

  He seemed amused at her discomfort. “Didn’t bother me then, Elle. Doesn’t bother me now. I never cared what people think.”

  Must have been nice. Her entire adolescence had been caring what people thought. Elle’s jacket pocket vibrated, and she jumped. “Cell phone,” she explained.

  Impatience flashed over his face. “Ignore it.”

  “Sorry, this is rude, I know, and I can’t stand it when people check their phones in the middle of a conversation. Normally I wouldn’t, but my sister might need me. Hang on a sec.”

  Jenny had sent a text to say the plumber had arrived, and did she get the job yet, because he looked way too happy, like he was going to be able to afford that two-week cruise with the wife this year.

  Elle checked the time. She’d been here an hour. A freaking hour! “I’ve got to go!” she said, pocketing her phone.

  “Stay. I’ll make you breakfast. We can talk some more.”

  By the looks of him, he was through talking. She buttoned her suit jacket. “Can’t.” He made a move toward her, and she threw out a hand, sidling to put the dog between them. “Oh, no. You stay there.”

  “Don’t run away.”

  “Me? Hah!” She backed up. “I’m not running. Not a runner.”

  “Stand still and say that.”

  “Love to, but can’t. Got to go. Got to go get a job, or the house is going to fall down around our ears. Yeah, I’m back in my old place, neighbor, and if it was just me and Jenny we’d manage among the rubble, because we’re tough, but I’ve got my niece to think about. She’s only four.” Hiding behind Katie. As cool as hiding behind his dog.

  She’d made it to the steps. Alex waited for her to reach the gravel before he moved to the railing, arms braced wide to angle down at her, knuckles white like he was trying to hold himself there. She wished for a searing moment that she could say screw it to the job and let him “make her breakfast” or whatever the hell else he wanted to do to/for/with her, watched his face change as he must have read some of her thoughts on it, and swore.

  “I’m going to go,” she said, pointing over her shoulder at the car, “at a brisk and business-like non-running pace.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” He laid his forearms over the railing and leaned into them.

  “Yep.” It took her three tugs of the door handle before she remembered she’d locked it. By this time, Gargoyle had trotted from the porch to join her in the driveway. “Bye, buddy,” she said and got into the car then screamed when he jumped in with her, knocking her flat. She opened the passenger door, slithered out, ran around the front of the car to the driver’s side, and managed to shut the door behind her before Gargoyle, who’d bellowed with joy and followed her, made it in again. She lunged to shut the passenger door to foil the cuddly bugger’s double back, beeped the horn, and accelerated away.

  Alex Zacharov, not Alan but definitely her guy, watched her go. The morning sun was just leaving the porch and struck him side-on, lighting his dark hair with a tinge of deep red, highlighting the bunch of his powerful shoulders.

  Holy crap. Elle giggled nervously and hated herself a little for it.

  She was in so much trouble.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Elle parked in the small lot attached to the clinic. She took a few deep breaths. Time to stop thinking about Alex Zacharov and get her head in the game. She skimmed damp palms along the sides of her thighs and flipped down the visor, using the mirror to fuss with her hair. You have mad nursing skills. You’re efficient and decisive under tough conditions. You, Elle Finley, have got this.

  Then why was she so nervous?

  Because it mattered. She needed this job, and not just for the money. She actually wanted to be here. She was actually excited about building a life here. In Emerson. Living in her hellhole of a childhood home with Jenny and Katie. A combination of geography and responsibility that never featured in her “time to reboot my life” dreams. Mostly those dreams featured palm trees, blue seas, and dark, godlike men.

  Stop thinking about Alex Zacharov.

  Maybe she was having a life crisis. Or maybe, just maybe, she should get her ass moving and into the clinic.

  She slid out of the car, strode across the lot with her chin up, shoulders back. It would have helped if she’d managed to push instead of pull the door, as was in fact clearly marked right alongside the handle, but whatever. Didn’t think she’d quite earned the slow hand clap a pinched old woman in the waiting room gave her. She brushed it off, and marched on. All the way up to the receptionist behind the desk, who stared at her.

  “Hi. My name is Elle Finley, and I’m here about a job.”

  “That’s all right, honey. We’ve already got an accountant.”

  A business nun, man-repelling armor, and now an accountant. She was going to have to burn the suit.

  The receptionist grinned and waved a hand at her. “Come on round.”

  “You do need an accountant?” Could she fake it?

  “No, I’m messing with you. Here to interview for the nurse position, right?”

  “Yes. Thank God, this is my lucky day. I thought you’d have filled it already. I sent the application in over a month ago. I was going to beg for part-time or cover shifts.”

  “Yeah, we filled it.”

  Elle frowned.

  “She quit already. She quit yesterday, in fact, so your timing is perfect. Now I don’t have to call the other applicants on the shortlist. I recognize your name.” She picked up a manila folder and waved it at Elle. “Let’s see how you do. I’ve got a good feeling. I read your résumé. I’m Cassidy, by the way. Come on back, and I’ll get you a coffee, then see when the doc can fit you in.”

  Cassidy jumped up and led the way. Elle almost bumped into her when she stopped suddenly to look back over her shoulder. The waiting room was empty apart from the old lady. Cassidy eyed the old lady. The old lady eyed her back.

  “I’ll be gone one minute.” Cassidy held up a warning finger. “One.”

  The old lady yawned.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Cassidy directed Elle down a short passage and into the staffroom. “Question. What on earth are you doing here in Emerson when you could have a glamorous big-city life in Seattle?”

  Elle thought of the last three months of staggering home after a twelve-hour shift, either ordering pizza or finishing the pizza she’d ordered the night before, numbing herself with Netflix then falling into bed to reset and start again the next day. She thought of the three months before that, staggering home to life with Chris. Which was different only in
that she chose what to watch on Netflix half the time.

  “Eh,” Elle said. “There’s only so much glamour a girl can take.”

  Cassidy snorted. “I’ll get that story out of you later. How d’you like your coffee?”

  “Black, no sugar.”

  “Straight up, huh?” Cassidy took down a mug from an overhead cupboard, poured her a coffee, and slid it over the table. She nudged Elle into a seat, poured herself a coffee, but didn’t sit. “Listen, I’ve got to get back out there, or the old witch will be on my computer again, playing solitaire.” She laughed at Elle’s expression. “Don’t worry. I can call her that. We’re related. She’s my great aunt.” Cassidy gave her a thumbs-up and raised her voice so it carried out, “My great aunt who will never beat my high score on solitaire!”

  An outraged squawk drifted back from the waiting room.

  “Now I’ve really got to go, or she’ll mess up the magazines. She’s harmless. More or less. You’ll get to know her. Spends every other morning here. The rest, she splits between the vet’s and the dentist’s.”

  The unmistakable bong of a computer restarting sounded from the waiting room.

  “Crap.” Cassidy rushed off. “Enjoy your coffee. I’ll tell Doc Coleman you’re here.”

  Elle sipped the hot coffee, shuddering at the bitter jolt of caffeine. She scanned the room. It was cozy. Homey, even. Nothing like the functional staffroom at the ER. Looked like a living room, and she was willing to bet it was Cassidy’s touch.

  She had finished her coffee and was debating whether or not to help herself to a second cup when the door popped open and a hard-faced blonde with legs up to there, boobs out to there, and a furious scowl strode in. She stared down her nose at Elle, then barked out, “You here to interview?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I was a better person I’d tell you to run, but I’m not that nice, so I’ll just say, please take the job.” Based on the pink scrubs she wore and her friendly attitude, Elle guessed this was the nurse who’d quit yesterday.

  “I want the job,” Elle said.

  “Please. Please take the job.”

  “I…I want the job.”

  “Take it today. If I have to work out my notice period, I think I might hurt him. I cannot take another two weeks of that jackass.”

  Cassidy ducked her head through the staffroom door. “Don’t put her off, Sadie,” she said to the nurse.

  Sadie raised her hands in the air. “I’m kidding. He’s a dream.”

  Cassidy grinned and said, “He’s between patients, Elle, so you can go on in.” She whisked out.

  “I’ll show you to his office,” Sadie said brightly and ushered Elle down a short corridor. She banged the flat of her hand on a door then yanked it open. “Someone to see you, Doc,” she said, only it sounded a lot more like she said jerk.

  The doctor lunged for his computer, hit the monitor off, and then swung around on his chair.

  Was he watching porn?

  He pasted on a smile. “I was on my break but I suppose I could…” He seemed to lose track of what he was saying and trailed off, staring at Sadie’s impressive chest.

  “For God’s sake.” She clicked her fingers, redirecting him to her now seriously pissed-off face. “It’s like you’re asking me to sue.”

  He turned a dull red. “Sorry.”

  “Pervert.” Sadie slammed out.

  Elle stared at the guy, who shrugged back at her. “Thirty-six double Ds,” he said. “Can you blame me?”

  Yes, I can.

  His gaze skipped to Elle’s chest. She rebuttoned her suit jacket and narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Right.” He cleared his throat. “Cassidy says you’re here for the job?”

  “Are there any other clinics around here within, say, a forty-minute drive?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then I’m here for the job.”

  “Why don’t you take a seat, Ms Finley?” He drummed his fingers on the desktop, scanning the folder with her résumé. “Elizabeth Finley. Elle Finley?”

  “Yes.”

  He sat back and smiled at her, face open and boyish. “It’s Ted!”

  Elle sucked in a breath. “Nooo—” she started.

  He laughed. “Yes! Ted! T.J. Coleman!”

  Noooo.

  “I was a couple of years ahead of you, but you’ll remember me. Emerson High. Hah. You, of all people, must remember.”

  Oh. She remembered.

  “What are the odds? This is crazy. I haven’t seen you in, what, years? And now here you are.” He flipped the folder closed, leaning toward her. “Couple of months ago, who else do you think came in?”

  By the sparkle in his dark blue eyes, she could guess.

  “He came in with a burn. And I’m not talking like a small one from an iron or a grill or anything. This was a serious nasty damn burn. Looked like someone took a blowtorch to his arm. Want to guess who it was?”

  “Nope. Can we stick to—”

  “Fat Casanova! Remember that guy? Yeah, you remember him. Kid who dry-humped you up against the lockers in front of the whole school. Hard to forget something like that, right?”

  Hard to forget, yes. When everyone keeps reminding me about it.

  “Nobody could get him off you. We all thought you guys were just going to go ahead and do the nasty right in the hall. Lucky I was there, huh? Or it could have gotten embarrassing. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  Elle’s hands clenched into fists on her thighs. Think about the job. The house. Jenny. Katie.

  “Can you imagine how much better it would have been if we had YouTube back then?” T.J. shook his head. “How many hits do you think that would have gotten? Ten, twenty thousand?”

  The rest of the interview passed with T.J. enthusiastically reminiscing, oblivious to Elle’s tight-lipped and reluctant participation. Twenty minutes later, she came out of T.J.’s office and stomped to the staffroom. Cassidy and Sadie were at the table, drinking coffee.

  “Uh-oh,” Cassidy said. “You didn’t get the job. I should have told you to stuff your bra.”

  Sadie shot her a dirty look. “That man is obsessed with breasts. He’s a goddamn doctor. A thirty-five-year-old doctor. You think he’d be over boobs by now and could stop behaving like a high school jerk.”

  “No guy gets over boobs,” Cassidy said.

  “You know how many times he’s looked me in the eye? Three times. The rest of the time—” she sat back and gestured to her chest, “—my boobs.”

  “I got the job,” Elle said.

  Sadie punched the air. “Yes.”

  “Then why the face?” Cassidy asked. “What did he do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t turn your back on him,” said Sadie. “He will.”

  “Nothing recently. Turns out, I know Ted. T.J. We have a history.”

  Cassidy sighed. “That poor boy. He’s going to have a hell of a shock if he ever loses his surfer-dude good looks. Women are blinded by it and think he’s being ironic when he says the sort of shit he usually says. And then they realize he is in fact that much of a jackass. He’s sweet, but he’s a jackass.”

  “Sweet, hah.” Sadie curled her lip.

  Cassidy pointed at her. “He’s a sweetheart. Not a cruel bone in his body. Just a whole lot of stupid.”

  Elle shuddered. “Not that kind of history. We went to high school together. And he’s responsible for the most embarrassing moment of my life thus far.”

  Responsible might be pushing it, but he was at least complicit. If it wasn’t for T.J., probably Alex would have stopped before things had gone too far, and their kiss would have been nothing more than another hot and heavy make-out session, forgotten by next period.

  Probably he would have stopped.

  Cassidy and Sadie stopped glaring at each other and turned to her. “Tell us,” Cassidy said.

  She told them.

  “And you’re still taking the job?” Sadie said in disbelief. “Eve
n though you’ll have to work with him every single day?”

  Elle shrugged. “I need the money.” She glanced at Cassidy, who was staring at her. “I really need the money. I’m still waiting to hear the plumber’s diagnosis, but it’s entirely possible my toilet might be a portal to Hell.”

  Cassidy sat back in her chair. “That explains it. I thought maybe it was some dumb jock frat boy thing. Four months ago, this guy came in. He. Was. Fine. Beyond belief fine. He seemed irritated enough to be here in the first place, and let me tell you, he was working that whole brooding angle, with the scowl and the dark eyes. Gave me a hot flash. Anyway, he was here for a wound check and an antibiotic shot, you know the drill, and then Ted came into the waiting room. This guy took one look at him and—”

  Sadie and Elle leaned forward.

  “He stood up, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and hosed Ted down with it. Head to toe. The full canister.”

  Sadie’s grin was enormous. “What happened then?”

  “Ted laughed, went to change into clean scrubs. The guy sat back down, picked up his magazine and carried on reading. Weird thing? It was Vogue. Ted came out, called him in, and that was it. I’m telling you, I had 911 all queued up on the phone and ready to go, but I guess Ted just gave him his shot, did the dressing, and that was it.”

  “Huh.” They all contemplated their coffee cups.

  “Told you he was a sweetheart,” Cassidy said.

  Using the word sweetheart to describe the guy who’d blasted her and Alex with not one but two fire extinguishers to break them apart, whooping with glee as he did it, was a bit of a reach. At least it seemed T.J. had a sense of humor that remained intact when he was the butt of it. That was good in a boss, right?

  Sadie was disappointed Elle couldn’t start that day, but as she promised to start the next day, Cassidy managed to convince Sadie not to succumb to the convenient migraine threatening to descend upon her out of nowhere now there was another nurse on the premises, and work out her hours.

  Even if she didn’t have important things to do, like pick up Katie from preschool, Elle thought as she turned into the parking lot outside the strip mall, she wouldn’t have started today. She needed at least twenty-four hours to process the fact her new boss was Ted “T.J.” Coleman. More importantly, she needed ice cream.