Healing The Doctor's Heart. Shirley Hailstock
feel so weightless as he pulled her into a standing position.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She forced herself to breathe hard as she used her free hand to brush any street dirt from her skirt.
“I guess I’ll live. I’m mostly embarrassed. My pride is a little injured but holding. It looks like my shoe bore the brunt of the physical damage.” She hopped on one foot showing him the severed heel of her sandal.
“Let me get you a taxi,” he offered.
She wondered how he was going to do that if he didn’t let go of her and use his left hand to signal for a cab.
“I don’t need a taxi. I’m fine and I live in Brooklyn.”
“The cost will be mine,” he said. “After all, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
She smiled. “I was walking too fast. How about we settle it with a cup of coffee.” She looked behind him. Several shops, including a coffee bar, an Italian restaurant and a Greek eatery beckoned. “I have a new pair of shoes in one of these bags.” She glanced down, lifting the bags slightly away from her. “I can change inside.”
He looked around, probably noticing the eating places for the first time. Lauren could tell he wasn’t exactly planning to spend any more time with her.
“I don’t usually eat out,” he said.
“I don’t either, but I’m leaving the city soon and I’m trying out some new things before I head into the great unknown.” She gave the last words an uptake of tone. “Come on, have some coffee with me.”
“Well”
She didn’t give him time to refuse. Grabbing his left arm, she propelled him forward. “I’ll even spring for the coffee.”
He allowed her to pull him along, but when she neared the coffee bar, he stopped.
“This one would be more comfortable,” he said. It was the Italian restaurant.
“You like Italian food.” Lauren stated the obvious.
They went in. Lauren did her one-legged hop step as they followed the waiter to a secluded booth. The place was beautifully appointed. She felt as if she’d stepped from a New York street straight into Provence or Naples. Most of the tables were empty. Waiters had already begun preparing them for the dinner crowd. White tablecloths with bud vases holding a single rose, bone china and silverware gleaming in the light.
Luck was still with her as she settled her bags and placed her napkin in her lap. The line was crossed, and there was no going back, yet there were more hurdles for her to jump before she did what she’d been hired to do.
“Have you had lunch?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“They have some very fine food here. It’s all made with fresh ingredients,” he said.
So, he did know about the restaurants in the area. She’d been wrong in that. It was a mistake on her part. She’d have to be more alert in the future or he’d trip her up.
“I suppose that’s how you like your food?” she said, just to have something to say.
He looked her straight in the eye for a long time. Lauren felt as if he was able to see into her mind. Then she realized the string of nurses and therapists he’d had in the past must have asked a question like that.
“You don’t have to cut me with your eyes. I like fresh food too,” she said.
He relaxed a bit. The waiter arrived and they quickly ordered.
“What’s wrong with your arm?” she asked when they were alone again.
“You are certainly direct for someone I only met a moment ago.”
She nodded. “You’re right, especially since we haven’t even exchanged names.”
His expression told her he had yet to think of that small detail.
“Lauren Peterson.” She extended her hand, her left hand.
Jake looked at it and after a moment pulled his hand up and shook hers. “Jake Masters.”
“Now that we’re acquainted, Jake Masters, what’s wrong with your arm?”
“I had an accident.”
“When?”
“I’m not going to play twenty questions with you.”
“Too pushy?” she commented. He’d be amazed if he knew the shy, quiet college kid she used to be still lurked inside her. She was great with children, but it took a lot of courage for her to deal with adults who weren’t the parents of her patients. And romantic relationships were out of her league ever since her divorce. “I’m sorry. I’m used to asking questions.”
“Really, what do you do?”
His speech was very formal and he sat up straight in his seat, coming only short of folding his hands in front of him like he was in the third grade. Jake wasn’t as warm and welcoming as his brother, and it made Lauren feel as if she was in another job interview.
“At the moment, I’m between careers.”
“What did you do in your last career?”
She stared at him. “Arm surgery,” she said.
A long moment went by and then he grunted. It wasn’t a laugh, but a sound that told her he didn’t believe her for a New York minute.
“And what are you going to do in your new career?”
“Now who’s asking a lot of questions?” She paused. “Anyway, I haven’t decided where to go yet. I’m looking at someplace close to the ocean. I’ve always liked the sea. I feel calm there. In the meantime, maybe I could work for you. Of course, it would be temporary.”
“And why do you think I need someone to work for me?”
The waiter interrupted them with their meals. When he left, Lauren returned to the conversation.
“Because you’re in pain and I know something about pain.”
“How do you know I’m in pain?”
“By the way you’re holding your shoulder.” At that he shifted, but didn’t truly relax. “And by the way you clench your teeth until it eases.”
She picked up her fork and took a bite of the seafood fettuccine she’d ordered. Closing her eyes at how wonderful it tasted, Lauren savored the pasta and sauce. She didn’t often cook her meals with all fresh ingredients. She didn’t have time. She remembered visiting her sisters and her parents. They always had catch-up and cook time in the kitchen. The five of them would catch up on what was happening in their lives while they made a meal. Their mom would plan the menu and each sister would choose what she wanted to make. It was a female bonding time that was fun and delicious. Lauren missed those days.
“Are you a therapist?” He nearly spit the word. The expression on his face was crafty.
“A massage therapist? Not technically, no. But I’ve done my share of working with someone in pain.” She wiggled her fingers and smiled to show she knew what she was talking about.
“Don’t bother. I’m fine. I don’t need any kind of therapist,” he said, again with a disdainful tone.
“I can see you’re in pain, but” Lauren raised and dropped her shoulders, leaving her statement open.
Jake said nothing. His silence made her only want to try harder.
“So, what do you do, Jake?”
He didn’t immediately answer. “I’m between careers at the moment.”
“I see,” she said, knowing even with