Connie Cox – The Baby Who Saved Dr Cynical (страница 8)

For safety reasons Jason never hiked alone. But he was tempted to risk it. That was what women did—made men do foolish things.

No, he wouldn’t risk going it alone with no one to call on for help. No woman was worth being stuck stranded on a mountain with a broken leg. Or a broken heart.

No. Not a broken heart. He would have to love Stephanie for that to happen, and he’d promised long ago to never be that foolish again.

Stephanie’s phone rang, showing Jason’s office number. He never called. He was a face-to-face kind of guy. Warily, she picked it up. “Hello?”

“Stephanie, when you said you needed …” He paused, giving Stephanie time to catch up with his one-sided conversation. “What is it you need?”

What should she answer? I need you to show me your heart? I need you to love me? I need you to put me first in your life? “I need you to attend a sensitivity training class.”

“A what?”

“A sensitivity class.”

“Why?”

“You’ve got another complaint filed against you, I’m afraid.” Yes, that sounded nice and businesslike. Stephanie was rather proud of her control.

“So?”

“So the hospital is being very careful about these things nowadays, particularly because of the lawsuit. The class is mandatory.”

“Or what? You’ll fire me?”

At the thought of never seeing Jason again Stephanie felt her stomach drop. “No, Jason. Of course not—not you, anyway. But showing that we insist upon a consistent policy will help with the lawsuit and our malpractice insurance. I need you to cooperate with me.”

“What’s the complaint?”

“Mrs. Canover said you were rude to her.”

“Remembering Mrs. Canover, I would have to agree with her.”

“Jason, we’ve discussed this before. A large part of patient care is attitude. We treat the whole patient and the family, not just the illness.”

“No, that’s not in my job description. My job is to find the problem and fix it. Has Mrs. Canover’s son had a relapse? Difficulty breathing? Rash? Fever? Sore throat?”

“No. None of that. Her son is recovering nicely.”

“Then what’s her complaint?”

“Did you really tell her she should stick with growing African Violets instead of children?”

“The woman demanded that I give her three-year-old son allergy shots twice a week rather than getting rid of her house-plants. What would you have said?” Jason had been staggered when the woman had refused to give up the prize-winning African Violets that had been passed down through generations for the health of her son, and hadn’t hesitated to give his opinion.

Frankly, Stephanie agreed. But, as her grandmother insisted, there was a polite way to say everything. “I’m not sure, but I probably wouldn’t have implied she was as dumb as the dirt in her violet pots.”

“Who will take care of my patients while I’m stuck in a classroom being lectured to by an idiot who has never diagnosed an illness in his life?”

“You will. I’ve scheduled the class for your off hours this weekend.”

“I’ve already got plans.”

An unexpected spike of jealousy shot through Stephanie. The thought of Jason with another woman sent her temples to pounding.

Not good for the baby, she reminded herself. She took a deep breath. “Cancel them. I’m sure your date will understand. After all, you’re a doctor. Any woman who makes plans with you should expect to be flexible.”

“Just because we agreed to see other people doesn’t mean I am.” He lowered his voice a half-octave, probably because he knew how she liked that. “I was hoping you might want to get away this weekend. We could go to my cabin. We haven’t been up there since Independence Day. I could make lasagna.”

“Our personal relationship is over, remember?”

“Stephanie, just because our sexual liaison is over it doesn’t mean—” He swallowed hard enough for her to hear him. “Doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends.”

His voice sounded strained. As honest and forthright as he was, he wasn’t good at voicing what others wanted to hear.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re just saying that to get me back into your bed, aren’t you?”

“Busted.” He sounded awkward, sheepish. “You’ve got to admit we’re awesome together.”

She looked up, as if searching for an answer in the ceiling tiles. “Jason—”

“I know you have a lot going right now, Stephanie. We could both use a little fun to put things into perspective.” He sounded serious. “No strings. No commitments. Just a weekend away. A glass of wine under the stars and a few laughs between friends.”

That had been more than enough for her only a few short months ago.

They had shared some fun times. His quirky sense of humor was right in line with hers. Together they had snickered and chortled at things the rest of the world didn’t get. It had felt good to be understood.

“There’s more to life than grins and giggles, Jason.”

She took off her glasses to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll email you the details on the class.”

Stephanie spent the rest of the afternoon familiarizing herself with Jason’s patient files, all the while marveling at his brilliance. His reports made for fascinating reading. They were thorough and detailed—and, best of all, unbiased. He didn’t slant the facts to support his hypotheses, and he included details of wrong assumptions as readily as right ones.

While all doctors were supposed to be this objective, Stephanie had never found one whose ego didn’t shade the facts at least a little bit until Jason.

Lost in work, she didn’t realize the time until Marcy buzzed her over the intercom. “Just letting you know I’m leaving for the day. Should I bring in your messages?”

“Yes, please.” Stephanie glanced at her watch. Where had the time gone?

Marcy brought in a fistful of messages and notes to be returned and laid them in the in-box on Stephanie’s desk.

Stephanie gave them a casual glance. “Anything urgent?”

“Just the usual. Dr. Sim in Obstetrics wants you to set up an appointment with her. She didn’t mention the topic of discussion. Do I need to get information on the meeting agenda?”

“No, Dr. Sim and I have talked previously.” Soon everyone would know why she had appointments with the obstetrician. But not tonight. Tonight her baby was still her little secret.

Stephanie folded that particular note and slipped it into her lab coat’s pocket. “Anything else?”

“Another in-house complaint against Dr. Drake.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’m sure it can. And your mother’s personal assistant called. Should she send the car here for you tonight?”

Stephanie thought of answering no, saying she would drive herself. But she suddenly drooped with exhaustion—mentally as well as physically. She didn’t know how late it would be before she could gracefully exit the Baby Isaac Benefit.

While she had intended to run home to do make-up and hair, the drive would steal minutes from her day. She could pin her ponytail into a ballerina bun, and she had sufficient cosmetics to do an acceptable make-up job here at the office. That way she could squeeze in a much-needed rest first.

While she didn’t have a lot of time for a nap, she didn’t need a lot. Just a few minutes to prop up her feet and close her eyes.

As a resident, she had perfected the art of napping. Fifteen minutes had always been enough to restore her flagging energy and weary mind.

“Tell her yes. I would appreciate having the car sent here. And keep my office phone on hold.”

As soon as Marcy left Stephanie dimmed the lights, kicked off her shoes and settled onto her couch.

When she heard the bing from her computer that let her know she’d received an email, she ignored it. Unlike her parents and her ex-lover, she knew how to manage her priorities, and right now a quick nap was at the top of her list.

Only six o’clock and she felt as if she could sleep through to the morning. Too many late nights, early mornings, and busy days in between were taking their toll. She needed to take a long look at her schedule and eliminate non-essential functions for the next several months. Possibly longer. It was time to take care of herself.

At least for fifteen minutes.

Just as she was drifting off to sleep, her office door burst open, slamming back on its hinges.

“When were you going to tell me?” Jason demanded, more emotion in his face than she had ever seen. Unfortunately that emotion was anger—at her.

Sitting up too quickly made her light-headed. She blinked through the spots as she tried to gather her thoughts.