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Hot Single Docs: Meeting His Match: NYC Angels: The Wallflower's Secret / NYC Angels: Flirting with Danger / NYC Angels: Tempting Nurse Scarlet
Hot Single Docs: Meeting His Match: NYC Angels: The Wallflower's Secret / NYC Angels: Flirting with Danger / NYC Angels: Tempting Nurse Scarlet
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Hot Single Docs: Meeting His Match: NYC Angels: The Wallflower's Secret / NYC Angels: Flirting with Danger / NYC Angels: Tempting Nurse Scarlet

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The girl snickered and pointed. “End of hall.”

“I see.”

“This horse can’t go too far away from the barn.” He winked at the young nurse and she blinked and grinned.

The sting of pain Lucy experienced when she’d not been included in the flirtatious action surprised her. It was a visual reminder he didn’t consider her part of his circle. She was once again an outsider.

An easy lilt in his Brooklyn accent became more prominent as he continued to speak. “I’d better finish this princess’s ride and get her home. It’s almost supper time.” He turned his head toward the girl, “What do you say to get the horse to go?”

“Giddy up,” Michelle said with another round of giggles and off they went.

A smile covered her lips.

“Why, Ms. Edwards, is that a smile I see?” Dr. O’Doherty asked with a brow raised. “I wondered if it was possible.”

To her amazement, she was smiling. Something that had happened rarely in the last few months. How had that exasperating man managed to make her smile? Maybe there was more to him than she had originally given him credit for. His bedside manner might not extend to her but apparently he cared about his patients.

The horse and rider set off down the passage then returned, and she waved. Her chest constricted. It wouldn’t be long until Emily would be the same age as Michelle. Sadly, Lucy would never hear the sounds of Emily’s childhood delight.

Half an hour later, Lucy asked one of the nurses which end of the hall Dr. O’Doherty usually started his rounds on. The nurse pointed to the right and Lucy headed in that direction. A group of six led by Dr. O’Doherty exited a patient’s room as she approached. The crowd circled around him. Lucy stopped just outside the ring.

He looked over the head of a female intern wearing a lab coat, with her head elevated in a worshipful manner, to glower at Lucy. “Everyone, this is Ms. Edwards.”

The assemblage turned to inspect her. She shifted uneasily under the scrutiny.

“She’s our newest family counselor. Please introduce yourself later. We have patients to see.” His mouth tightened briefly but his words didn’t falter. “Please see that she stays in the loop on all cases.” His intense blue gaze pinned her again. “I’ll have to get you up to speed later on the patient you missed.”

She looked away.

Dr. O’Doherty made a few more comments as they moved down the hallway to the next patient, then the next, stopping in front of another door. He paused. His attention focused on her again. “This is Brian Banasiak. I removed a blood clot three days ago. This is one case I believe that it might be beneficial to have you involved in.”

Might? Lucy wasn’t sure she needed his seal of approval but she didn’t say so. Neither was she certain how she felt about the left-handed compliment. In her last position she’d been considered the “go to” person when a family was having a difficult time coping with their child’s illness or injury. Her role was seen as important in overall patient care.

Apparently Dr. O’Doherty viewed her work as a sideline to his godly power. She’d do her job effectively then maybe she could change the narrow-minded man’s opinion.

“I understand his head trauma occurred during an auto accident,” she said quietly. “I’m going to discuss the benefits of therapy at home with the parents. Also assistance with home schooling. These parents have a long road ahead of them. The adjustment of having gone from a perfectly normal child to one who needs help eating and dressing will be difficult at best to accept.”

Dr. O’Doherty’s look of surprise along with similar ones from the others made her want to pump her fist in elation. She’d managed to wow the man. Why it should matter she didn’t know, but it felt good.

He pursed his lips and nodded as if he might be impressed. “Thank you, Ms. Edwards. You’ve obviously done your homework.”

“The family clearly cares about their child and I gather are willing to do what it takes for Brian to recover. I’ll be speaking with them first thing in the morning to determine any additional needs.”

Dr. O’Doherty gave her a quick nod and with a rap of his knuckles on the door entered the room. Along with the rest of their group, Lucy moved to stand next to the boy’s bed.

The parents of the boy came to stand across the bed from the group. Dr. O’Doherty paid them no attention.

“Brian, how’re you feeling today?” Dr. O’Doherty asked.

The eight-year-old boy offered a weak smile. His entire head was swathed in white gauze. His eyes had dark circles under them and there was puffiness about his face that lingered from having surgery.

“Okay, I guess,” the boy said with little enthusiasm.

“Well, from all I hear from your nurse, you’re my star patient,” Dr. O’Doherty stated. “So give me a high five.”

That managed to get a slight smile out of the boy. He raised his small hand and met the doctor’s larger one with a smack.

Dr. O’Doherty pulled his hand back. “Ow! See, you’re already getting stronger.”

Brian’s smile broadened.

The doctor did have a way with kids.

“I’m going to take a look at your head. Maybe we can give you a smaller bandage.”

“It’s itchy.” The boy wrinkled his nose.

“Yes. That means you’re getting better. I’ll see if we can’t help with that problem.”

As he removed the gauze, Lucy watched the parents’ faces to gage their reactions. Death wasn’t the only time people experienced grief. A major life trauma could bring on the emotion. Lucy knew that all too well. She’d run to get away from hers.

“Will he be able to ride a bike?” the boy’s mother asked. “Do we have to worry about him falling?”

Dr. O’Doherty didn’t look at the mother as he said, “Ms. Walters, my clinical nurse, can answer those questions for you.” He continued to unwrap the bandage.

The mother looked like she’d been struck. She stepped back from the bed.

He continued to examine the surgical site then spoke to the floor nurse standing next to him. “I believe we can place a four-by-four bandage over this.” He looked at the boy. “You’ll look less like a pirate but it won’t be so itchy.”

That statement brought a real smile to the boy’s face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dr. O’Doherty said, before turning to leave. He shook the big toe of the boy’s foot as he moved toward the door

The mother followed him out into the hall. “Dr. O’Doherty, we were wondering what to expect next,” the mother said, tears filling her eyes.

“My nurse will answer all your questions.”

Lucy compressed her lips. Where had all the charm that had oozed from him seconds before gone?

“Will he ever be like he was?” The mother’s eyes pleaded to know.

“I don’t make those kinds of promises,” Dr. O’Doherty clipped.

The mother looked stricken again.

This man had a sterling bedside manner where his patients were concerned but he sure lacked finesse with the parents. Why was he suddenly so cold?

Lucy stepped forward, not looking at Dr. O’Doherty for permission. She placed an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Mrs. Banasiak, I’m Lucy Edwards, the family counselor. I think I can help answer some of your questions.”

The mother sagged in relief. She shot a look at Dr. O’Doherty and then said to Lucy, “Thank you, so much.”

Dr. O’Doherty progressed on down the hall with his group in tow without a backward glance. Lucy hung back to speak to the parents further. The watery eyes and fragile smile of the mother touched Lucy’s heart. These were the type of people who needed her. It felt good to be using her skills again.

* * *

Ryan paused in front of the last patient-to-be-seen door. Turning, he waited for the group to join him. Ms. Edwards was missing. Should he really be surprised? He discussed the patient, while his frustration grew. She could speak to the parents on her own time.

“We’re glad you could join us,” he said when she finally walked up.

Her eyes didn’t meet his. The woman didn’t like having the spotlight on her. By the way she dressed and spoke so softly, he guessed she spent most of her time in the shadows. “I needed to reassure the parents,” she said quietly.

Pushing the door of the patient room open, he stepped in. “Hi, Lauren,” he said to the ten-year-old sitting up in bed, watching TV. “I believe you’ll be ready to go home tomorrow. How does that sound?”

The grandmother, who was the girl’s caretaker, stepped to the bed. “That’s wonderful. What do we need to do about getting her back in school when the time comes?”

A soft but strong voice beside him said, “I’ll help with that.”

“This is Lucy Edwards,” he said to the grandmother. “She’s my family counselor.”

The only indication that Ms. Edwards didn’t appreciate the word “my” was the slight tightening around her lips. That had been entirely the wrong thing to say. He didn’t know how to repair the faux pas gracefully in front of a patient’s family so he continued speaking to the grandmother. He’d apologize to Ms. Edwards later.

This quiet, gentle-voiced woman wasn’t his anything. She wasn’t even his type. He was used to dating freer-spirited women, who thought less and laughed more. Those who were loud and boisterous and were not interested in emotional attachments. Ms. Edwards had already demonstrated she was the touchy-feely type.

He left the room while the grandmother rattled off a list of questions for Ms. Edwards.

After answering a page, he returned to the nurses’ station in search of Ms. Edwards. Not seeing her, he was forced to ask where her office was located. He’d never paid much attention to the family counselors. He knew they had a job to do and as far as he was concerned they did it. Rarely did he interact with one outside other than when they asked him a question or left a note on a chart.

He knocked lightly on the nondescript door with a small plate that showed he was in the correct place. The door was opened by a woman he recognized. “Hi, Ryan. What’s up?”

“Hello, Nancy. I was trying to find Ms. Edwards.”

“Yes-s-s.” The word being drawn out came from inside. He’d found the right place. Ms. Edwards put far too many syllables in a word. He glanced around the woman in front of him. Ms. Edwards looked at him with wide, questioning eyes.

“I’ll get out of your way. It’s time to head home anyway,” the older woman said. “Nice to see you, Ryan.”

“You too.” He smiled as she left and stepped into the doorway, holding the door open. “Do you mind if I come in a minute?”

The new counselor looked unsure but nodded her agreement.

He’d received warmer welcomes but guessed he couldn’t blame her, considering their less than congenial start. She sat at the desk furthest away from the door. Her eyes resembled those of a startled animal as he pushed the door closed behind him. The look eased when he sat down in the chair furthest from her. Was she afraid of him? He conjured up one of his friendliest smiles.

She gave him an inquiring look.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the comment about you being my family counselor. I misworded the statement. It won’t happen again.”

Her bearing softened. “Dr. O’Doherty—”

“Please call me Ryan. I’m a pretty casual guy generally.” She looked unsure about the idea. “May I call you Lucy?”

She nodded slowly. “Uh, Ryan, I know you’re not a fan of this coordinated patient care arrangement but I’d really like us to work together with as little conflict as possible.”

He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. Kind of easygoing and warm. “I’ll do my part but there have to be some ground rules.”

She pursed her lips and her delicately shaped brows drew closer together. “And those would be?”

“I expect the people that work for me to be punctual and to stay with me as I make rounds. I don’t wait.”

“Dr. O’Doherty, I don’t work for you. I work for the hospital, and ultimately for the patients. If I understood Mr. Matherson correctly, we do coordinated patient care. Which means we work together.”

“My OR schedule, which the hospital dictates, means I don’t have time to stand around waiting for you.”

“And my job, which the hospital and the human heart dictate, is to care for the patient and the family during a difficult time. My job is to help the whole family. We...” She waved a hand around, broadly including him. “This hospital should care for the whole person. That’s my job and I would appreciate you letting me do it.”

He flinched. “My job is to be a surgeon, I fix the problem. I don’t need to hand-hold patients or their families to do my job well.”

“No, you don’t, but it would be nice if you would at least try to on some level.”

His body stiffened and he gave her a questioning look. “The parents of my patients need to hear the truth.”

“I don’t disagree with that. I just question the delivery.”

“I thought that was why you were here?”

“It is, but parents like Brian’s like to hear reassurances from the doctor.”

She met his direct gaze for the first time for longer than a second. He stood. “Point taken.”

“What time’s your first case in the morning?”

“Seven. Why?”

“I like to be here when the child leaves the parents to go into surgery. It’s when they need the most support. Many want to talk. They’re scared. I’ll walk them down to the waiting room.”

He’d never given any thought to how difficult it was for parents to watch their child go into surgery. Didn’t want to think about it. He opened the door.

“It’s hard to let go,” she said with wistfulness in her voice.

Did she know that from personal experience? Her eyes glazed over. Where had her thoughts gone? Thankfully she recovered, the hopeless expression disappearing, to be replaced by that of a trained professional again. That he was more than capable of dealing with.

“I guess it is.” He closed the door between them. What was the woman with the sad, serious eyes hiding?

CHAPTER TWO (#u460ad609-b476-5fb6-8cb9-6ba089870f95)

THAT EVENING LUCY arrived home later than she’d planned. To be at the hospital early for four mornings out of the week meant she had to stay late in the evenings to prepare. On top of that there was the time she spent getting to and from work. Accustomed to the freedom of driving a car, she found using the subway system restricting and oftentimes frustrating. Never good at reading maps, she had a tendency to take the wrong train far too often. This was one aspect of living in a huge city that she’d not thought through.

Her heavy-set, dark-haired landlord, who was standing outside the building, called, “Hello,” as she started climbing the stairs to her studio apartment.

“Hi, Mr. Volpentesta,” she returned with more enthusiasm than she’d had in a long time.