Promises in Paradise. Sandra Kitt
something else he could hold over her, no matter how trivial.
Chapter Two
Diane stood at the nursing counter, dressed in a pair of slim black slacks and a dove-gray cashmere turtleneck sweater with fashionable black leather boots. Simple pearl ear studs were her only jewelry. Not exactly holiday colors, she realized when she dressed that morning. Christmas was in the air but she was not about to act like a walking advertisement.
There were makeshift vases of holly and evergreens, wreaths made of fake fruit and poinsettia plants on the counters and a sprig of mistletoe over the entrance to the visitor’s lounge. Cutout foil snowflakes were taped to doors and mirrors. It was hard to avoid. But Diane also knew she just wasn’t feeling it yet.
“Hey. Haven’t seen you lately. When did you cut your hair?” the nursing supervisor asked, sitting at her terminal and working on her computer keyboard.
“About a month ago,” Diane answered absently, focused on the paperwork in front of her. “I got tired of dealing with it. Too much work.”
“You look different.” The nursing supervisor nodded.
Diane shook her head, amused. “Thanks. I think.”
Her hair was trimmed short across her nape but was layered full at the crown and sides, framing a light brown face that was youthful and animated. And except for the unbuttoned traditional white lab coat and the stethoscope folded into one of the pockets there was nothing else about her appearance or posture to indicate she was a doctor.
At that moment she was multitasking, checking messages on her BlackBerry, listening to voice mail from an earpiece and quickly checking off on a hospital form the procedures she’d followed with her last patient. She was also sucking on a piece of candy cane, rolling it around her mouth.
“What are you doing here, anyway? You’re not even on the schedule.” She checked to make sure.
Diane consulted her BlackBerry once more. She entered a text message before finally turning it off and dropping it into her pocket along with the earpiece.
“I was called in for two late referrals that couldn’t wait, according to the attending physicians. The referrals turned into one emergency and the other required a full workup. And there was a bunch of as-long-as-you’re-here-doctor-can-you-take-a-look-at-this requests. You know how it is.” She sighed.
She wasn’t about to admit there was more on her mind than just the obvious routine of her work. To be honest, over the past week or so she found her work was actually a blessed distraction. The horrible events of two years ago notwithstanding, what was on her mind right now was merely irritating. It had kept her awake on three different nights in the last two weeks. It was because she’d seen Hale Cameron again.
Why did he have to be there? she’d been asking herself ever since.
With Jenna.
Who was pregnant.
The image of the friendly woman with her rounded belly evoked a primal reaction in Diane that she, even now, couldn’t understand. Pensive, she played with her hair and massaged her scalp with her fingertips.
“Well, if you’re finished with patients it’s time to get the spirit. Ho ho ho and all that. There’s food in the staff lounge. Unless you have a date and you’re eating later. Or is that long face because he canceled?”
Diane silently shook her head. The mention of any kind of celebrating for the holidays only made her think of Trevor. Her ex-husband. The gnawing memory made her feel more annoyed than sad.
She leaned her whole torso over the counter as she searched along the desk. “Got anymore candy?”
The nurse playfully swatted her hand. “Leave that alone. It’s bad for you.”
Diane chuckled quietly but obeyed.
“You didn’t answer my question. A dinner date?”
The basket was now beyond her reach and Diane stood up and leaned a hip against the counter. “That’s over,” she said smoothly, watching the traffic around the nursing station, the passing of staff, patients and visitors trolling the hallways. Many were wearing cheap, felt Santa hats with fuzzy white trim.
The nurse squinted at her in disbelief. “Over? I thought you just met him a few months ago. What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Diane studied her nails. Her fingers were long and well shaped. Her nails short by necessity, manicured but free of polish. Free of rings, wedding, engagement or friendship.
“It wasn’t a good fit. We weren’t on the same page about a lot of things.”
“He was cute. You threw him outta bed?” The nurse was again incredulous.
Diane’s answering smile was faint. “That wasn’t it. He was just so…so…straight.” She struggled to find the right word. “He was nice and all that, but…”
She stopped and frowned, realizing she was about to make an honest confession that she would later have regretted. It didn’t help that in the middle of the nurse’s probing and her defensive dodging Hale Cameron again came to mind, disrupting her thoughts.
She was seeing Hale as he’d momentarily stood alone and unaware of being observed by her, or anyone, at the end of the gala in Baltimore. She was reminded of when he was nineteen, not long after he’d appeared in her life and become her nemesis.
He had a provocative, strongly defined physique on the cusp of becoming a man. He stood and moved his body in an arrogant posturing way back then, as if he were fully aware of his own assets but wanted to give the impression that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Diane recalled, when he didn’t know anyone was watching, Hale could seem almost shy, even awkward. That night a few weeks ago, she’d caught a glimpse of that same momentary uncertainty, all pretenses under wraps.
“I guess I’m too busy to concentrate on a relationship right now,” Diane said restlessly, forcing the memory to recede.
“That mean you’re coming alone to the holiday party?”
“I…have other plans,” she improvised.
“Then you should at least stop upstairs before you leave.”
“What’s upstairs?” Diane asked, again pulling out her BlackBerry to check for messages. She stood reading one, frowning over its contents.
“The kids’ party up on six. Santa’s coming in to meet them and give out presents.”
Diane turned off the phone. “I’m glad you reminded me. I have some things in my car.”
Pushing away from the counter, Diane walked toward the elevator. She spoke briefly to colleagues she met in passing, listening to excited plans for Christmas and New Year’s, and being asked about her own. She made them up as required.
Without stopping to get her coat, Diane left the building and walked to her car in the staff lot. It was a cold, overcast day, promising rain or snow. She opened the trunk of her car and removed a shopping bag from which protruded two gifts wrapped in kid-friendly holiday paper. She started back toward the building and then suddenly stopped midstride. Returning to her car, Diane opened the driver’s side and climbed in, shutting the door behind her. She absently placed the bag on the other seat, pulled out her phone and made a call. She sat with her eyes closed waiting for the connection, thinking about what she was going to say.
“Hi, Eva. It’s me.”
“Diane. Honey, is everything okay?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you right away…”
“I know you’re very busy at the hospital but I worry when nearly a week goes by…”
Diane let her head drop back against the headrest and slouched in the seat.
“I know.”