A Matter of the Heart. Patricia Davids
done, Dr. Blake. Mr. Dale, when would you like to start?”
“There’s no time like the present. Care to show me around, Dr. Blake? May I call you Nora?”
She rose to her feet already uncomfortable with his close scrutiny. How was she going to tolerate having him around for days? She had to see that he kept his distance. Cool professionalism was the key.
“You may address me as Dr. Blake. Ali’s surgery isn’t scheduled for another two weeks. I see no reason for you to hound me until then.”
He tucked his pad and pen back in his shirt pocket. “I’ll need some background information about how heart surgery is carried out, and the best way would be for me to see a few surgeries for myself.”
“I’m not taking you into the operating room.”
Turning on her heel, Nora left the CEO’s office and walked quickly toward the elevators. She knew Rob was following without looking back.
“Now, Nora, I know that you have students and visiting physicians who observe your surgeries. It won’t be any different having me in the room.”
For some reason, she knew it would. She was aware of him on a level that she had never experienced before. The last thing she wanted was him disturbing her concentration while she was operating.
At the end of the hall, she punched the down arrow and the elevator doors immediately slid open. The car was empty. Why couldn’t it have been crowded? She stepped inside and turned to face the opening. Rob slipped in behind her. The doors closed, shutting them in together.
Music played softly overhead. She could see a blurred reflection of herself and Rob in the brightly polished metal panels. The simple white blouse and fitted navy skirt that she had picked out that morning made her look like a schoolgirl instead of a thirty-five-year-old woman with a demanding career.
The scent of his cologne tickled her nose. It was a brand she liked, and on him it smelled particularly good—spicy but not overpowering. She tried not to breath.
His reflection leaned toward hers. She tensed as he spoke; his breath tickled her earlobe and the nape of her neck. “I think you have to push the button.”
Blood rushed to her face, staining it crimson above her white collar. She jabbed her finger into the button for the third floor so hard it hurt.
Rob leaned away from Nora and let his gaze skim over her trim figure. She was tall for a woman, maybe five foot eight or five foot nine. She wore her hair pulled back into a French twist today, and the style accentuated the graceful curve of her neck. She radiated cool grace.
“I have my patients to think of, Mr. Dale. I can’t allow just anyone access to their information.”
She was still fighting even after the battle was lost. A part of him admired her tenacity.
“Mr. Branson has made me aware of the patient confidentiality issues. Everything I see or hear regarding patients will remain strictly confidential.”
While he might admire her determination to get rid of him in spite of the pressure Willard Branson put on her, Rob couldn’t help but wonder why. He decided to try a direct approach.
“Do you have something to hide, Dr. Blake?”
Her head snapped around and she stared at him with wide eyes. For a second, he thought he saw fear in their depths, but it was quickly replaced by anger. She turned her back on him. “I have no idea why you would even suggest such a thing.”
The elevator doors opened and she rushed off. He followed at a slower pace, but more intrigued than ever. She entered the second doorway on the left and slammed it shut behind her.
After pausing to read her name and the name of her partner stenciled in gold lettering on the glass panel, he made a mental note to look up her partner’s credentials. Rob had already checked Nora’s. They were impressive.
He opened the door and stuck his head inside. A middle-aged woman with impossibly black hair teased in a 1970s flip sat behind an immaculate rosewood desk centered between two identical doors. Nora stood beside her. Two additional open doorways at each end of the reception area revealed examination rooms that were currently empty.
Rob winked at the secretary. “You must be Carmen. I’m Rob Dale. Is it safe to come in?”
She hid a smile with difficulty as she glanced between Nora and him. “For the moment.”
“Good.” He entered the stark office with plain white walls and a half dozen reception-style maroon chairs lining the perimeter. “How’s Harold getting along?”
“He’s much better, thank you.”
Nora’s frown deepened as she glared at her secretary. “Do you know this man?”
Rob walked forward and grasped Carmen’s plump fingers. He gave them a squeeze. “We’ve spoken on the phone so many times this week that I feel like Carmen is an old friend.”
Carmen batted her eyes. “You’re just as charming in person as you are on the telephone.”
“Not nearly as charming as you are. I would have braved the dragon days ago if I had known how pretty you were. I’m so glad to hear Harold is doing better. I’ve been praying for him.”
Nora’s mouth dropped open. “Who are you calling a dragon and who is Harold?”
“Harold is Carmen’s husband. He had a nasty bout of pneumonia. It’s a good thing her daughter was able to come over and take care of him since Carmen couldn’t get time off from work,” Rob said, enjoying Nora’s obvious confusion.
Nora folded her arms across her chest as she frowned at her secretary. “You didn’t mention you needed time off.”
Tilting her head to one side, Carmen said, “Actually, I did ask for a few days off last week, but you said your schedule was full and that I was needed here.”
“Oh, yes. I remember that. Well…you should have made a point of telling me it was a family emergency.”
“I’ll be more clear in the future, Dr. Blake.”
“Carmen is not my regular secretary,” Nora said, giving Rob a pointed look.
Carmen nodded. “I’m a temp. I fill in for Delia when she takes time off. She goes to Vegas every chance she gets. I think she has a boyfriend there.”
“All right then.” Nora’s smile looked forced. “Carmen, Mr. Dale will be shadowing me for a few days. Please get him a set of scrubs.”
Rising from her chair, Carmen said, “Dr. Kent has several sets in his office. I’ll get one for you. You look about the same size.”
Nora walked toward the inner office on the right and Rob followed.
Inside, a quick glance around the room revealed a large oak desk with two chairs facing it. They matched the chairs lining the outer office—none of which looked made for comfort. On the desk were an oversized paper pad and a computer screen. Several filing cabinets sat beneath a wide window with a nice view of downtown Austin in the distance. A tall, gray metal wardrobe took up the remaining space in the corner. There was a closed door on the near wall. Rob assumed it connected to the exam room. On the opposite wall was a small taupe sofa. He crossed the room and sat down.
Reaching out, he plucked several long blond hairs from a faint depression in the padded arm. A green-and-red plaid throw blanket lay draped over the other end of the couch.
“Do you sleep here a lot?” he asked, looking to where she stood pulling open the small wardrobe.
She withdrew a set of green scrubs on hangers. “Occasionally, when I need to remain in the hospital.”
“Your home is in Prairie Springs, isn’t it? That’s only thirty minutes from here.”
“Thirty