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She flipped open the lid of the smallest pizza box. ‘We got you ham and cheese pizza. Your dad said you’d like that. Would you like some?’ She pulled a slice of the pizza free and left it for him to grab himself.
Rory watched her with dark eyes for a few moments. It was unnerving what the gaze of a four-year-old could do to her. She didn’t blame him. He’d literally just woken up, and was in completely strange surroundings. And she’d seen those big brown eyes before. Rory definitely had his father’s eyes.
She could hear Gene rolling the suitcases inside then closing the main door behind him. He strode through to the kitchen and sat down next to Rory, ruffling his hair again as he looked at the pizza boxes. ‘Which one is mine? Come on. Eat up, little guy. You must be starving.’
Rory stared at him. ‘Where’s the French fries?’
Cordelia almost laughed out loud—there was a definite hint of a Texan accent, but there was also a little bit more. Gene said they’d stayed in France and the UK too. It seemed the little boy had picked up a little of everything. She stood up and flicked the switch on the kettle and glanced over at Gene. ‘Do you want a cup of tea or coffee?’
Gene shook his head. ‘I’ll stick to water, thanks. I want to try and sleep a little tonight.’
Rory stopped staring at her suspiciously now his dad was back and picked up a slice of pizza. He leaned his head on one hand. ‘Where’s my bed?’
Gene glanced at her and Cordelia answered quickly. ‘It’s upstairs. There are two rooms, so you can either go in a room on your own or you can go in with your dad.’
Her stomach gave a little flip. She still didn’t know if the rooms were ready or not. Franc had a housekeeper who kept the place tidy. If he’d told her in advance she would have the rooms ready.
‘Give me five minutes,’ she said, bolting down a bite of pizza and running up the stairs.
She flicked on all the lights as she ran down the corridor, past her own rooms and on to the other guest bedrooms. The door were already open—always a good sign. She checked the first. The bed had been made up in pale blue, with a pile of white towels, some soap and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom next door.
The second room had been made up in pale green. There was a teddy sitting on the bed next to the pillow. It was slightly threadbare, but it was something. She sighed in relief. At some point Franc must have remembered—even if he hadn’t this afternoon. At least the rooms were ready. She could sort out everything else tomorrow.
By the time she got back down the stairs, Rory was back in his father’s arms, a half-eaten slice of pizza on the table.
‘Is he out for the count again?’
Gene nodded. ‘Everything okay upstairs?’ he asked warily.
She nodded. ‘Yes, just checking the rooms. Everything is perfect. I was just worried in case Franc hadn’t mentioned to the housekeeper about your arrival. But he must have remembered. The rooms are fine.’
Gene followed her up the stairs and laid Rory down on the green bed. He sat for a few seconds, stroking his blond hair and just watching him.
It felt like she was intruding. Watching a moment that should be shared just between a parent and child.
He turned to face her. ‘What time are we going to the institute tomorrow? I need to know so I can get us up and ready in time.’
Her brain automatically revised her usual plans. If she told them she was usually there from six a.m. until seven at night they would think she was crazy. Or sad. Or both. ‘I normally go in around eight a.m. I like to be available to check on any of the patients involved in the trials before they get started for the day. Would you be okay if we had breakfast just after seven?’
He nodded. ‘That’s fine. We’ll probably be up early anyway. Your morning will be our afternoon.’
She felt a wave of panic. ‘Rory—what does he eat for breakfast?’
Gene shrugged. ‘Whatever you’ve got. Cereal, toast, eggs. He’s happy with just about anything.’
‘If you write a list tomorrow, the housekeeper will get you whatever you need for him. I’m not sure just how many child-friendly foods we’ll have in the house right now.’
Gene looked over at her in the dim light. She could see the shadows under his eyes. He must be just as tired as Rory was.
A million questions were burning in her brain. Where was Rory’s mother? Why hadn’t he mentioned her at all?
There was a hint of bristle along his jawline. She watched as he leaned over Rory and kissed him gently on the head, the muscles on his chest and arms visible beneath the thin soft cotton T-shirt.
Her skin prickled. It wasn’t like her to notice things like that. Of course she wasn’t blind. Of course she’d had a few relationships in the past. But she’d never been the kind of girl to really notice a guy. To look at his eyes. To look at his build. To notice the way he looked at his son.
She gave herself a shake. She was being ridiculous.
It looked like Gene could be a while, so she backed out of the door into the corridor.
She had work to do. Plenty to distract her in the meantime. Cardiac research could easily stop her thinking about the man with the accent as thick as syrup and his equally cute young son.
She gave herself a shake and hurried back to the kitchen, pulling a stack of paperwork from her bag.
Work. That’s where she was always safest. She should concentrate on that.
* * *
Rory had snored peacefully all night while Gene had slept fitfully. It always took him a few days to be comfortable enough in his surroundings to sleep well. It didn’t help that his mind had kept drifting to the chestnut-haired woman with the bright green eyes.
He still wasn’t sure about her. If Professor Helier wasn’t going to be around he’d give her a day, then decide if he was staying or not. He’d learned not to waste time in this life.
Rory got ready eagerly, jumping into a pair of bright green shorts and his favourite baseball shirt and hat while Gene showered. He generally liked to dress a little more informally at work, but first impressions always lasted, so he left his Stetson on the dresser and pulled on work clothes more fitting for a cardiac physician.
By the time they reached the kitchen, Cordelia was already there, humming to herself as the coffee percolated and she popped some bread in the toaster. The kitchen table was set with cutlery, some cereals, a jug of milk and some butter, jam and marmalade. She even had a little pad and pen with ‘Shopping list’ written across the top.
She smiled as they appeared. ‘Good morning. Hi, Rory, did you sleep well last night?’
Rory started. It was almost as if he’d forgotten that he’d met her last night. Gene pulled out a chair for him. Cordelia had the sides of her hair pulled back in a clip and she was wearing a red dress and black suit jacket. The dress ended just on her knees and he blinked in surprise at her red baseball boots.
She laughed at his expression. ‘I know. I know. I had a problem with my feet a few years ago. I find baseball boots comfiest.’ She pointed to a pair of medium-heeled black shoes at the side of the kitchen, ‘But I promise I’ll change before we leave.’
‘What happened to your feet?’ Rory asked immediately, while Gene cringed.
There was the briefest uncomfortable blink from Cordelia then she gave a small shrug. ‘A very long time ago I was a ballet dancer. And when you’re a ballet dancer you go right up on your tippy-toes.’ She opened one palm and put the tips of the fingers of her other hand in the centre. ‘But when you do that when you’re still young it does damage to your toes.’ She pulled a face. ‘So my feet are quite ugly. But...’ she waved down at her shoes ‘...it gives me a chance to wear my favourite baseball boots.’
Gene felt a bit warmer. She seemed a little more relaxed this morning. More amenable. Maybe she’d got her head around sharing this house with a stranger and his kid.
Rory stared at her. ‘I like them,’ he said as he shot a glance at his dad. Gene almost laughed out loud. He knew exactly what was coming.
‘I wanted red baseball boots, but my dad wouldn’t get me any.’
Cordelia grabbed the toast as it popped and put it on a plate, carrying it over to the table with the coffee pot. She raised her eyebrows and gave Rory a conspiratorial glance. ‘He wouldn’t? Why ever not?’
She sounded easy. She sounded comfortable around them, but Gene noticed a tiny twitch at the side of her eye. She might be acting as if everything was fine, but she was still a little nervous. Why?
He picked up a piece of toast for Rory and started buttering it for him, smiling at his son the whole time. ‘I didn’t buy him a pair of red baseball boots because we already have a pair of blue and a pair of green.’
‘You have?’ Cordelia ducked her head under the table.
She frowned as she sat up. ‘But those aren’t baseball boots.’
Rory smiled as he picked up his toast. ‘Yeah. I put on my runners today. I decided I might need to be real quick.’
Gene poured some of the coffee into the mugs on the table. ‘Why would you need to be quick, Rory?’
Rory bit his toast and chewed for a few seconds before he answered in a whisper. ‘Because there might be...girls.’
Cordelia choked at the other side of the table, putting her hand over her mouth, her cheeks getting pinker and pinker. Gene watched in amusement. ‘Okay?’
She nodded and jumped up, grabbing a glass for some water. ‘Yes. Sorry.’ She smiled as she looked back at Rory. ‘I just wasn’t expecting that one.’
Gene leaned forward on the table, looking between his son and Cordelia. He ruffled Rory’s hair again. ‘Dad,’ said Rory, trying to shake him off, ‘stop that.’
Gene pulled his hand back and shrugged at Cordelia. ‘Apparently, it doesn’t matter what nursery or day care Rory goes to—his blond hair makes all the girls say he is cute.’
‘I’m not cute. I’m four,’ said Rory quickly.
Cordelia grinned as she sat down again. ‘I think four is kind of cute.’
Rory rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, not you too.’
Gene pulled a face at her and bent down to whisper in Rory’s ear. ‘Watch out, Rory. She might be like those other girls. She might want to kiss you.’
Rory gave a shudder and Cordelia laughed out loud. It was almost as if he could see the knot in her shoulders start to loosen.
They finished breakfast quickly and Gene scribbled a list for the housekeeper. ‘Remember red apples, Dad. And ’nanas.’ Gene added bananas to the list as Rory stuck his arms into his jacket. He was proud at how articulate his little boy was, but there were still some words that seemed like tongue-twisters to a four-year-old.
He swung Rory up into his arms. ‘Ready?’
Rory held up his fist and Gene bumped his against it. It was their move. Their superhero move.
Cordelia’s brow was wrinkled as she watched them. She had kind of a bewildered smile on her face as she stood next to the alarm, ready to punch in the code. ‘Let’s go then, guys.’
* * *
For the last week she’d breakfasted with Franc. It had been a much more genteel and sedate experience. This morning had been entirely different.
And it made her feel...odd.
She was getting to the stage in life where most of her friends had kids. Those who knew her best had enough awareness to realise that she occasionally found things tough. It wasn’t that she completely avoided kids. Of course she couldn’t. She just didn’t generally have them under her nose.
So this was different.
And even though part of her stomach twisted and turned, it was also nice. And that was unexpected.
This morning’s breakfast had been noisy, chaotic and maybe even a little fun.
They travelled the distance to the institute easily. It was close enough to the city centre for public transport but far enough away to be spacious and have adequate parking.
The institute employed more than three hundred staff. Physicians, nurses, researchers and admin staff. There was also a small day-care centre, which she prayed that Franc had remembered to book Rory into.
Helene, the woman in charge, gave the briefest of pauses when they entered, before putting a beaming smile on her face. ‘Ah, yes. Professor Helier mentioned that we might be getting a new recruit.’ She gave Gene a questioning smile. ‘I think he said for a month?’
Gene nodded. ‘Yes, my contract is just for a month.’
It was odd. Cordelia could tell he was a little nervous—but Rory clearly wasn’t. He might say he didn’t want to play with girls, but he wandered off straight away to go and join a group of kids. Helene walked quickly over to a desk and pulled out some paperwork and a pager. Gene smiled as he took it. ‘Haven’t had one of these since I was a hospital physician.’
Helene gave him a nod. ‘It’s just for the first few days. It means I can get hold of you quickly if Rory doesn’t settle.’ She ran through the paperwork, requesting medical history, allergies, immunisations and any special requirements. Rory was already babbling away in French to his counterparts. The kids in Switzerland spoke a whole variety of languages. It was fortunate that Rory had already spent some time in France.
Cordelia put her hand on Gene’s shoulder. ‘You okay?’
His eyes were fixed on Rory. He gave a nervous laugh as his dark brown eyes met hers. ‘Sure I am. The little guy never seems to have any problems fitting in. I just worry.’
Cordelia was curious. ‘Rory never stays with his mum?’
The look he gave her made her want to pull back the inquisitive words. What was it with her and this guy? He bit his bottom lip and put his head down, completing the paperwork, checking his pager was working and finishing with Helene.
Her skin prickled at the awkwardness of it all. He was new. They had visiting fellows at the Rueben Institute all the time. The institute was renowned. Their last Professor had won a special prize for his research. They had many joint projects with university hospitals across the globe. People wanted to work here. She counted herself lucky that she’d managed to secure a permanent position. If Gene Du Bois was going to be here for a month he’d have to lose a little of his prickliness.
She walked him out across the granite-floored, glass-fronted foyer. Above them was a glass atrium, showing the four floors of the institute.
She ignored the earlier hiccup and held out her hands. ‘Okay, Dr Du Bois, welcome to the Rueben Institute. Now that Rory is settled, let me show you around.’
* * *
Darn it. For some reason his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth and he’d been unable to answer her question. Last time he’d been tongue-tied he’d been around fourteen. This was ridiculous.
But what was even more ridiculous was the thought that had shot into his head when she’d asked about Rory’s mother.
He literally had the story off pat. He’d been asked on numerous occasions where Rory’s mom was. It was a sad story. But lots of kids all over the world had only one parent. It wasn’t the biggest deal in the world.
But this time, when he’d been asked, he’d just frozen. Maybe it was those green eyes. Maybe it was the shiny brown hair and the way it looked so good with her red dress. Maybe it was those darned curves in that red dress that seemed to make a swishy kind of noise every time she took a step—daring him to look at the swing of her hips.
Or maybe it was the tiny freckles running across the bridge of her nose.
Whatever it was, it was something.
He was tired. That was all. Probably jet-lagged too. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to start straight away. Perhaps he should have given them a few days to settle in. But, then again, Rory looked like he’d settled already. And Gene couldn’t help but be proud of the way his son had naturally babbled away in French to the other kids.
He pulled his eyes away from the swinging hips in front of him and looked up at the impressive foyer. He’d seen pictures of the institute before. But he hadn’t really expected this.
Cordelia had walked over to the back of the institute—or what should be the back wall of the institute. Instead of brick, there was a wall entirely of glass, letting the bright morning light stream in and giving a picture-perfect view of the Alps in the distance. It was like capturing a holiday snap. Or picking up a picture postcard.
The view was breathtaking. And unexpected. She gave him a nod as she stood alongside him. She sucked in a deep breath. ‘Whenever I get exasperated at work, or fed up, I always like to remember how lucky I am to work here.’
He stood for a few minutes, his eyes scanning the horizon. It was like taking a chill pill. He’d been on edge, agitated about the arrangements and worried about how they might affect Rory. But standing here, watching this, it was almost as if someone had just put his head on a lavender pillow and told him to relax and calm down.
He’d wanted to come here. He’d wanted to work with Professor Helier. And even if Professor Helier wasn’t here, the rest of his team was.
