by Holly Rayner
“Funny,” I wheezed, wiping my eyes.
Finally, once I was full enough to slow down, I went on with the story. “Anyway, so she was a certified nurse-midwife, so she was handling all the pregnant and laboring women that were sent to us. He didn’t realize this, and he wanted plenty of time to hit on her, so the guy asked that she be assigned to assist him.”
“You said he was barely a resident?” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “I think I see where this is going. I take it he had no rotations in obstetrics or pediatrics.”
I smirked. “Not a single one.”
“Yes, well, apparently he was plenty interested in making babies but had no interest in delivering them. She delivered a patient’s twins one day while he panicked in the corner. He was on a plane by the end of the week.” And the whole time between the birth and his fleeing, he had been useless, hiding in his room and throwing a fit at anyone who came near.
“I do hope you weren’t worried that I would turn out the same.” He winked at me, and I stifled a giggle.
“Well, you never know with people, but you’re more grown-up, so I was mostly worried about what would happen when we had another serious crisis. And now I know. So that’s that.” I still felt a little bad about grilling him when he had first shown up, but at least he understood my reasons.
After the excellent if simple meal, he got up and brought a dusty bottle back to the table.
“This is a grappa from my grandfather’s vineyards. That’s Italian-style brandy. We’re one of five places in the world besides Italy that can make it legally.”
What he poured into the two crystal shot glasses he set out had a light red-golden hue, almost like wine, but the strong, warm scent of distilled spirits hit my nose from it at once. I accepted mine and peered into it a little dubiously.
“Is this going to knock me over? I need to be fresh for my first day back as a nurse.”
He brightened. “You’ve decided, then?”
“Yes. I mean…I think in order to recover, I had to change everything, from my setting to my work. But all these emergencies won’t wait on me any longer.”
He considered me for a moment, then took a delicate sip of his drink. He savored it for a moment, then licked his lips in a way that made my mouth dry. “I…can certainly understand needing a change of venue. But I’m happy to hear that you’ll be working under me as of tomorrow.”
I nodded, head whirling a little as I slowly, slowly sipped the drink. I hadn’t had real booze since leaving Miami. Some of my coworkers had taken to the local moonshine, but I couldn’t bring myself to drink something that strong and acrid, even when they cut it with mashed dates and sugar. So my tolerance stayed low.
Vincenzo grinned. “Well, that leaves me feeling celebratory. Shall I top off your drink?” He did to his own glass, the mouth of the bottle ringing slightly against its rim.
I hesitated for a moment. “Sure.” But then added, “Just half a glass, okay?”
Despite my restraint, it didn’t take long until I was a little tipsy. Dangerously so, if I wanted to avoid making a fool of myself with my words again. I kept quiet mostly, listening to stories of his adventures, which seemed endless, exciting, and sometimes a bit alarming. My skin was warm, everything had a rosy glow to it, and I kept having to force myself not to giggle.
“Oh, boy,” I sighed finally. “That is some strong stuff. I think I’ve had a sip too much.”
It had been worth it, though. Even though now I had to drag my sleepy butt back up to my rubble-filled room, pull out my mattress and join the others in bunking in the hallway until we could be relocated, I felt better and more relaxed than I had since…well actually since well before Vincenzo had even come here. There was no relaxing and having a good time in this city. That felt like a foreign concept.
Until now.
I started to apologize and say my goodnights, not wanting to doze off in his chair. “Anyway, look, I’ve had a really good time, but if I don’t go now, I’ll have trouble leaving.”
He smiled mildly, innocently. “Well, you’re welcome to stay, if you want.”
…What?
I had never sobered up so fast in my life. My eyes flew open, a rush of adrenaline banishing the warm fuzziness inside me and my cheeks immediately going flaming hot.
I blinked over at him; he lowered his glass, looking at me quizzically as I gaped at him like a fish.
Oh, God. I should have known. He might be brilliant, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have an ulterior motive from the beginning.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I was giving him an out, an easy way to step back and pretend he hadn’t just propositioned me. “You’re joking, right?”
He blinked slowly. “No, of course not. I’d love to have you stay. Is something wrong?”
Disappointment followed the shock, and anger followed it—mostly at myself. Stupid, stupid. What was I thinking?
“You were planning this.”
“I’m sorry… I don’t follow you.”
He was playing innocent. That annoyed me even more.
“The invitation. The food. The brandy. Getting me a little drunk. This was all your way of luring me into bed, wasn’t it?”
He went quiet, brows drawing together. “Not specifically. I just thought you might find it more inviting than sleeping in the dust and rubble upstairs.” He smirked. “Though if you’ve got that on your mind, I’d be happy to accommodate you.”
I got up unsteadily. “You are impossible!” I cried. “You can’t tell me you didn’t mean—and then—”
He laughed softly and shook his head. “Er, no. No, I did not just invite you to my bed. Though if you’d like to be invited—and with all this projection, I really am starting to suspect you do—we can discuss the matter further.”
“I-I…” I started but had to fight to regain my composure. “Projection? You are unbelievable.”
Even as my defenses slammed up, I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to him. But I had never actually thought of sleeping with him tonight, not for a moment. I just wasn’t the sort. I didn’t judge women who could hop into the sack quickly, but I had never had that kind of confidence…or that kind of emotional resilience. I knew that I wasn’t tough. Not when it came to love. So I always proceeded slowly, and with care.
It wasn’t the most popular approach for women these days. Around here, maybe not. But in Miami…in Miami I had been accused of all sorts of prudishness because of things like not being comfortable in a bikini, or not sleeping with someone on the first date.
And this really was pretty much a date. He had had me over for dinner. Maybe he didn’t do that with women he wasn’t interested in.
My stomach flipped over. Was there some massive miscommunication going on? Or was it once again a matter of a guy wanting to hit the gas as quickly as possible while blaming me for his being overeager?
Maybe if that hadn’t happened to me multiple times before, I wouldn’t have been so defensive. But it had.
I remembered the last time this had happened—back in college, back when I had tried a few casual dates only to realize that college boys universally expected every single date to end in sex. Dinner for the first time? Sex. Coffee date in the middle of the day? Sex. Ten minutes before a final begins? Sex.
And not even good sex, if what my friends told me was true.
Was my host now pulling the same garbage at thirty-something that those boys had done at eighteen? I didn’t want to just assume and start screaming at him. Besides, we were both a little drunk.
Be a grown-up about it. He’s been very kind. If he doesn’t have an ulterior motive, he will still be kind. Or maybe he’ll realize he’s pushing it and back off.
I squared my shoulders, forcing myself to speak calmly.
“I think we’re having a misunderstanding here. And that’s nobody’s fault, but it’s still a misunderstanding.” I rubbed my suddenly throbbing temple.
“Misunderstanding?” He loo
ked confused. “I thought we were on a date?”
Yeah, and I didn’t think a nice dinner together was an automatic segue into the sack. Guess I’m too innocent.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess I made a mistake. I thought this was just dinner, but I guess you were expecting more.”
He shrugged innocently. “I’m not the one who brought it up—”
“Yes, you did.” I covered my face with my hands, exasperated. “Look, I’m sorry, but I think this was probably a mistake.”
His smile faded. “A mistake?”
I hate doing this, but I have to protect myself. I can’t deal with another horny guy while I’m trying to deal with everything else.
“I really think we should keep our relationship professional, Vincenzo. There’s too much at stake here for me to focus on anything else besides my work right now. I’m sorry if I gave mixed signals.”
“Oh.” His expression suddenly became unreadable.
My heart sank, and I bit my lip. “It’s really nothing personal. I don’t even really know you anyway.”
His expression remained unreadable for the first time that evening. It was like he had closed a window between us. I regretted it…but his presumption still annoyed me.
“That’s quite all right. I apologize for the misunderstanding,” he said.
I gave him the best smile I could under the circumstances. “It’s all right. Me too. This was actually awesome, but I should…probably get back and check on Yvonne.”
“You do that,” he said in that same neutral tone. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Confused, exhausted, and tipsier than I would like, I walked out, waited for the door to shut, then hurried away.
Chapter 10
Rose
A week later
“I can’t stand being an invalid for so long,” Yvonne sighed as I helped her down onto her bedroll. “All of this for a little cut.”
“A little cut that is right over your thigh muscle,” I pointed out. “It’s a difficult place, even with Dr. Marino’s stitching. Move the wrong way too soon and you’ll start bleeding again, or scar badly.” I finished helping her and went to my own mattress across the room. “Still, I certainly understand why you’re frustrated.”
I had been living with Yvonne in her room since her discharge from the ward, helping her care for her injury and deal with the basics of getting in and out of bed and getting ready—for the desk work that was all she could do right now. Ironically, we had switched places. She was temporarily taking on administrative duties, while I had followed through on becoming a nurse again despite the awkwardness with Dr. Marino.
“It is ridiculous,” she grumbled as she pulled her light blanket over her, hiding her battered, bandaged leg from sight. “One step in the wrong direction at the moment, and I nearly die, and I’m so done with the bruises.” She held up one slim arm and looked ruefully at the fading marks, which looked like tea stains. “I keep having to explain to fussy old ladies that I was not attacked.”
“Let them cluck over you. You’ve been helping save their loved ones. Besides, not everyone manages to survive having a wall fall on them.” I stretched out on my mattress, sighing to myself.
Yvonne wasn’t a bad roommate, all things considered. We were doubling up on the undamaged side of the top floor now, as five of the six rooms on the other side were missing a wall. I often heard some of the others bickering, stressed by the increased workload, the cramped quarters, and the lack of privacy. We talked instead. And the whole time, our favorite topic always seemed to be the man I had been spending the week avoiding.
“I suppose you are right.” Yvonne sighed as she snuggled in with a little groan.
I nodded in sympathy, stretching my aching legs. I had almost forgotten how uncomfortable it could be to be running around a ward all day on a ten-hour shift. But I still had gotten it done.
Yvonne continued, “Thanks to you and Dr. Marino, I do at least have my life.”
I winced slightly. Even mentioning Dr. Marino right now made me feel flustered. I had done my best to avoid him after the way our dinner together had ended. What had started as an embarrassing misunderstanding had grown into a high-key awkwardness that was edged with resentment. I still honestly didn’t know if he had intended to seduce me that night, and though I had tried to make up with him and let it pass, that feeling lingered.
Maybe it was the embarrassment. After all, this was the first time I had felt this level of attraction to anyone. The feeling was strong and distracting. Which was one of the reasons why I had been trying to keep my distance from him. But I knew that would only work for so long.
I worked with Vincenzo. I only talked with him anymore in the context of our jobs. I worked hard as a member of his team, but I never stuck around for small talk, ate lunch with him, or accepted another offer for dinner.
I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and I didn’t want to do anything stupid either. Whether he was simply a horny guy with a big ego or someone who actually respected me and had honestly misunderstood, just thinking about that night made my cheeks feel like they were on fire.
“So how was work with our friend the doctor?” Yvonne asked me slyly as she saw my expression. “I can tell you’re thinking about him again.”
My cheeks heated up even more. “Two overflow patients with gunshot wounds from the front, one broken hand, one case of food poisoning, and a check on that little girl with the broken leg. Pretty productive day.”
The corner of her mouth twitched slightly. “Are you still avoiding speaking with him outside of work?”
“Kind of, yeah. It’s awkward. I told you how our date fell apart into the first act of a weird sex comedy, right?” One of those eighties ones where they fight all the time and end up implausibly landing in bed by the second act. Except…I’m just not wired that way.
“Yes, but that was so clearly a misunderstanding, my dear! He may not be perfect; all men I know would not pass up sex if offered by an attractive person—even some of the married ones. But he’s not so terrible a person, is he?” She propped her cheek on one hand as she lay on her side watching me.
“No, not so terrible…” I sighed, thinking of him. Of his smile, of his bursts of kindness, of his skill. Even his sarcasm wasn’t so awful once you made an effort to understand his sense of humor. But…but…
But I know almost nothing about him. And that situation was really, really awkward.
“Perhaps if I knew him better, I would have a chance of knowing his mind. He’s so…complicated.”
Appealingly so; confusingly so. He was a man of mystery, cultured and yet oblivious in certain awkward ways, brooding but good-humored, blank-faced and unreadable in emotional moments, then tender and considerate.
“I don’t know where he’s from, what his family is like—besides awful, apparently—or what he thinks of me.” Especially now.
“Well, he must think at least somewhat well of you. He tries to talk to you more than nearly anyone else here.” She grinned briefly at my look of surprise. “You didn’t know? Our mystery man is charismatic, but a bit tight-lipped. I think he’s concerned about giving away too much…or perhaps making too many friendly connections in a place he may have to leave soon.”
I rubbed my temple, which was still throbbing from my day. I had gotten those weird, lopsided stress headaches a lot in the last week. I thought about the mountain of awkwardness between myself and Vincenzo right now, and finally sighed.
“I almost wish he would move on sooner rather than later.”
“Oh, don’t say that, dear,” she replied with a little laugh. “He’s the best trauma surgeon we have. I’m here alive and complaining to prove it.”
I snorted and lay back against my pillows, closing my eyes. For a moment we were quiet: I could hear the hissing of our camp lantern, the low moan of the desert wind, and far off, low thuds and crackles that could have been mistaken for a storm—if you were new here.
&nbs
p; The war was the background noise of our lives. The front, far to the south, echoed across the desert at us, audible over the wind, the tide, the sounds of the city. It only stopped now and again for a few hours at a time, sometimes a few days. That was all. There hadn’t even been a proper cease-fire since I had arrived.
“Okay, so he’s good and we need him. I still feel like I have to avoid him every time there’s a chance of the conversation getting personal.” Not just because he might assume things, but because I might make a fool of myself.
“And is that such a terrible thing, Rose?” She gave me a lazy smile. “You have to admit that there are worse men to get…personal with.”
I was glad the dim light hid my blush. “Of course there are, but this isn’t about that.”
“Well, what is it about, then?”
I squirmed a little, remembering the rush of complicated emotions that had run through me during my walk back from Vincenzo’s trailer. Attraction and disgust. Interest and anger. A longing for things to go well mixing with a longing to rush out the door and never speak to him again. And of course, a lot of humiliation.
I had always been shy. I had hated social embarrassment more than almost anything. Alone for so long, I already dealt with more rejection than I could handle. Situations like that night were unbearable to go through, and nearly as unbearable to remember.
“I keep trying to tell myself that we were both drunk, but I didn’t like being mistaken for someone that’s…”
“Easy?” she finished for me, lifting an eyebrow.
“I guess. Or simply reckless. The last thing that I need is drama with a coworker that lasts more than a week.” In exasperation, I huffed, “I don’t even really like him that much!”
“You talk about him an awful, awful lot for someone who does not like him,” she teased me in a very gentle tone.
“I…um…” I swallowed. “I don’t talk about him that much.”
“Yes, you do. It is most of what we have spoken about while alone for the last week. What he did, what he might be thinking, what his background might be… You go on and on, Rose. And I know you care about his opinion, for otherwise you wouldn’t have been so embarrassed.” Yvonne’s eyes twinkled in the semi-dark.
