- Home
- Robin Kaye
TOO HOT TO HANDLE Page 17
TOO HOT TO HANDLE Read online
Page 17
After the jolt of caffeine, he asked Millie to find out if any of the other nurses had anything similar happen to them. It didn't sound like his partners. If they wanted to question the nurses, they'd pull them into their offices and ask. They didn't need to hire a third party and would avoid one at all cost. Digging for dirt on him would risk uncovering something about Dr. Meyer. Still, it made Mike want to look over his shoulder.
He'd make a point to take the business card for the lawyer Nick had recommended to him when he picked up the car. The longer Mike worked toward a partnership that would never be, the more money he lost. Too bad that by getting out of a bad situation, he could be flushing away more than money. He could be flushing away the last two years of his life.
The buzzer rang, waking Annabelle from a delicious dream. Damn, she was just getting to the good part too. Dave barked as she pulled a robe on and half hopped, half stumbled, to the intercom since she'd forgotten her crutches. "What?"
"Is that any way to answer the door? What if I was Mike?"
"Mike has the decency not to come by at ungodly hours unannounced." Though he had been known to phone at ungodly hours, but that never forced her out of bed. She buzzed her mother in and unlocked the front door just in time for Mama to make her grand entrance.
Annabelle discovered Mama scared Dave too, because he went running for the garden. She only wished she could join him.
She made it to the kitchen before the woman in question entered. She needed caffeine, and a lot of it, if she was to survive the ordeal ahead that held all the earmarks of a maternal surprise attack.
She made coffee as Mama placed her purse on the bar separating the kitchen from the dining area and opened the refrigerator, probably in search of milk.
Annabelle tried to remember the last time she'd gone shopping and couldn't. Chances are, whatever milk products were still present in the refrigerator, were not fit for human consumption. From the look on Mama's face after opening the milk, Annabelle was right.
"You'll have to drink it black."
"And this is how you keep your house? There's no food, you haven't vacuumed or dusted, and you have cups and plates lying all over. You're almost as big a slob as your sister."
"Supplies are under the sink if you feel the need to clean. I've been laid up in case you haven't noticed."
The coffee machine made the last gurgle signaling its completion and not a second too soon. Annabelle opened the cabinet where the coffee cups should be only to find it bare. A glance at the sink told the whole sad story. From the look on her mother's face, she noticed the same thing.
"You go get cleaned up, and for God's sake put some clothes on. I'll wash the dishes, and then we can sit down and have a nice talk over breakfast."
"Not unless you have breakfast stuffed in your handbag." She hopped to her room while her mother mumbled in Italian about a mother's curse. What a way to start the day.
Annabelle wasn't interested in hearing her mother's premarriage and children rant. She didn't need to be at work until 11:00 a.m., and it was … geez, not even 8:00 a.m. yet. She threw on shorts and a T-shirt, eager to get through the torturous visit as soon as possible. The next time she saw Mike she was going to kill him for bringing this on her.
She collected her crutches, choosing not to wear her air cast. She left the Ace bandage on and made her way back to the kitchen and the promise of coffee. Unfortunately, coffee had been the only thing she'd had to look forward to lately. She missed Mike. She missed waking in his arms, she missed the food he cooked, she missed the way her apartment always seemed to sparkle when he was around, and she missed talking to him.
"You never return my phone calls. I leave messages, and I never hear from you. I read in the paper how people with broken legs die of blood clots. I almost sent Papa over to make sure you weren't lying dead on the floor, but I decided to come myself. Someone needs to talk sense to you."
And it began. "Mama, I tore some tendons in my ankle. I didn't break my leg. I'm fine."
Mama must have brought food, because there were bagels and cream cheese on a plate on the counter. But then, they could have been in the refrigerator. She never bothered to look in there for food. Maybe Mike had brought them on his last visit.
Mama carried the bagels and coffee to the table, which Annabelle noticed had been set. "So, did you and your doctor have a nice time together on Mother's Day? He's a good man, that one."
Annabelle pulled a chair out, set her crutches against the wall, and sat. She took a bite of a fresh bagel and schmear. She was hungrier than she thought. "He brought me home and then went to work. I haven't seen him since. Maybe you and Aunt Rose scared him off." Lord knew they scared her often enough.
"Nonsense." Mama sipped her coffee and studied her.
She felt like a freaking sideshow.
"Your aunt Rose and I were encouraging. You should take a lesson from us. And you gotta be understanding of his work. He's an important man. He works hard."
Annabelle wiped her mouth on a cloth napkin she'd never seen before and looked at her mother, who sat wearing an apron she was sure Rosalie never wore. Maybe her mother had given it to Rosalie so she'd have something to wear when she stopped by to torture her.
"I am understanding. I understand you're fishing for information, but you're not going to get any out of me. Please, Mama, stay out of my love life. I can screw it up all by myself. I don't need your help."
Mama nibbled on a dry bagel. "Why do you talk crazy like that? You finally have a nice man, with a nice job, and a bright future. You better not break his heart like you did Johnny DePalma's. His mother called me in tears."
"If Mrs. DePalma called you crying, it was no fault of mine."
"Mike is a good man. Your aunt Rose said—"
"Mama, I don't want to know what Aunt Rose said. I want you both to leave Mike and me alone. I'm tired of you running my life. I might be guilty for letting you push me into an engagement with that two-timing snake. But I'm stronger now, and I won't let you do it again. If and when I ever decide to get married, I'll do it on my own without any input from you or anyone else."
She reached for her bagel only to find her plate empty. If she kept eating like this, she'd weigh two hundred pounds before she'd ever be released from ugly-boot hell.
She sipped on her coffee and decided to let her mother have it. "Mama, I'm happy being single. I have a great apartment, a job I love, and good friends. I'm in no rush to get married."
Mama almost spit out her coffee. "What? You been talking to your sister? She learned her lesson and got married. You need to think about your future. You're not getting any younger. I see the way your doctor looks at you. If you want to have children—"
Annabelle set her empty cup on the table harder than she'd intended. "I have plenty of time to decide if I want children."
"Are you insane? Of course you want children."
"Not everyone wants children. Heck, some people shouldn't have kids. Right now, I'm going to concentrate on myself and take everything else as it comes."
She smiled to herself. God it felt good to say it out loud. Mama mumbled Hail Marys under her breath and beat her chest.
Annabelle pushed her chair back to stand. "Mama, if that's all—"
"I'm gonna die before I hold a grandchild in my arms, and you are to blame."
"Hold on. Blame Rosalie and Richie before you start blaming me. I'm the youngest. And for all you know, Rosalie might come home from her honeymoon pregnant. Why don't you pray for that and leave me alone?"
Mama stood and looked as if she'd been slapped. Annabelle had gone too far. She stood, grabbed her crutches, and backpedaled. "Mama, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just that I need to live my life on my terms, not yours."
"Your terms. Eh? You'll see you're not so different from me. I just pray you see that before you lose something precious."
Damn, was that a curse? Annabelle didn't know what to say. "I have to get ready for work."
> "Go, get ready. I'll clean up a little before I go. I wouldn't want your doctor to come over and find a mess like I did."
"Okay, bye, Mama." Annabelle kissed her mother's cheek and did what she was told. Maybe she hadn't gotten that much stronger after all.
Maddone.
Chapter 11
Mike knocked on the exam-room door before entering. He smiled at Lisa Tandry, who had her nose buried in a book. He checked his watch. He was running on time and was glad for it. Lisa hated being kept waiting. The busy mother of three, who worked full-time out of her home, never stopped—even when she should.
Lisa didn't look thrilled to have to put her book away, but she did.
Mike scanned her chart and smiled. A nurse had written "fat" instead of her weight. "Are you giving the nurses a hard time again, Lisa? It looks as if you refused to get on the scale."
Lisa crossed her arms. "I'm fat. I gained thirty pounds thanks to the prednisone. You want to know how fat I am, you do the math. Besides, it's not like you're going to change the treatment because I look more like an elephant than a gazelle. Are you?"
Mike stepped closer and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You don't look like an elephant, and I'm sorry about the weight gain."
Lisa shrugged. "It's not your fault, but it sure feels good to blame you. Not only does the prednisone make me want to eat everything that isn't nailed down, it turns me into the bitch from hell. 'Roid rage is alive and well and living in my house. I swear I would have committed murder the other day if I hadn't had my youngest in the car with me. It took some idiot two lights to make a left. I almost got out of the car and pulled him and the little kick-me-dog he had on his lap out through his opened window and beat him senseless. But then he was probably already senseless at the time, hence the rage."
Mike made a note of it in her file. "How are you feeling now? Back to one hundred percent?"
"Almost. I still can't run."
Mike looked over her chart. "Could you before?"
Lisa moved from the chair to the exam table and on the way swatted him on the shoulder. Mike laughed. She was definitely feeling better. The last time he saw her, two weeks ago, they'd fought about IV steroids. He'd wanted Lisa to spend a few hours at the hospital getting a round of IV steroids because she was in pretty bad shape and IV steroids worked better and faster than oral. She told him she couldn't possibly do that. It was her daughter's birthday, and she was expecting twelve little girls at noon the next day, and she hadn't decorated the house or made the cake yet. The fact she couldn't breathe never entered her mind. They'd compromised, and she agreed to two steroid shots, one in each arm. He didn't bother telling her she'd have a hard time hanging decorations because both her arms would be too sore to raise over her head. He figured she'd figure it out for herself.
He listened to her heart and then moved behind her. "Lift up your shirt in the back for me."
"Like you can't do that yourself." She humphed but finally did as he asked. She was still wheezing, and after a half-dozen deep breaths, she went on a coughing jag.
"You sound better than you did two weeks ago, but you're still not up for running. Try pretreating, and let's keep it down to a walk."
He looked in her ear.
"I don't remember asking for advice about laundry." She turned her head so he could look in her other ear.
Mike rolled his eyes. "You know what I'm talking about. I want you to use your inhaler fifteen minutes before exercise and again just before you begin. Open your mouth and say, 'Ah.'"
Lisa did. Her throat looked fine. "I hate those inhalers."
"Dr. Flynn, phone call on line two. Dr. Mike Flynn, phone call line two."
"I know you do. But if you ever want to run again, you'll try it." Mike set Lisa's chart on the counter. "Would you excuse me for a minute?"
"Do I have a choice?" She picked up her book, smiled, and waved him away.
Mike stepped into the hall. Millie stood by the desk and motioned him over.
"What's the deal? You know I don't like to take calls when I'm with patients."
She held the phone. "It's someone from Eastern Heart Specialists calling for you. You need to take it."
He grumbled but took the call anyway. "Hello, this is Dr. Flynn."
"Dr. Flynn, this is Timothy Boyd. I'm the senior vice president in charge of human resources at Eastern Heart Specialists. In case you're not familiar with Eastern Heart Specialists, we are among the top ten cardiology practices in the country."
"Yes, Mr. Boyd. I'm familiar with EHS."
"Very good. We are expanding the practice, and we're looking to hire another pulmonologist, someone board certified in pulmonology as well as critical care. You came highly recommended. I'm hoping we can talk you into an interview."
"Yes, I'm very interested, but unfortunately, I'm not available until…" Mike scrolled through the calendar on his phone looking for a day he could get out until mid-afternoon. "How does the Wednesday after Memorial Day sound?" Millie practically jumped up and down next to him.
"Let's see, that would work. How does the morning look for you?"
"Morning is good. The earlier, the better."
"Nine o'clock all right?"
"Yes." Mike added it to his calendar.
"Good. I'll send you some information on the practice and directions to our office."
"That sounds great, Mr. Boyd. I'll put my nurse on the phone to give you my address and whatever else you need. I'm sorry I have to run, but I have a patient waiting."
"I understand. I look forward to meeting you. Have a nice holiday."
"Thank you. You do the same. I'll see you then on Wednesday, May thirtieth."
Mike handed the phone and his driver's license to Millie. "Could you please give Mr. Boyd my address and whatever else he needs? I have to get back to my patient."
Millie smiled so wide, her face split in two. "Yes, Doctor, it's my pleasure."
When he returned, he checked to make sure Lisa's prescriptions were all up-to-date before he took a seat beside her. "So, how are things?"
"Ah, let's see. What's happened over the last two weeks in my wild and wacky life?" She thought for a moment and then broke out into a full grin. "My son shaved half his eyebrow off and blamed it on his sisters. He said they went into his room and shaved it off while he slept. Do you believe he actually thought I'd fall for that? When I finally got him to admit he lied, he said he did it because he was always getting into trouble and the girls never did."
Mike laughed. "How old is Trevor now?"
"Twelve. And now he's walking around with one-and-a-half eyebrows. I told him the reason he's always in trouble is because he's always doing bad stuff. Fortunately, the girls haven't started with that yet."
Mike sat back. "Just give them time. Jodi is going to be a handful."
Lisa's eyes brightened. "She already is. She spent the whole school year talking about a little girl named Ceekay. I was really concerned about this kid because in one year, she'd broken both her arm and her leg. I was also curious about what kind of name Ceekay was. Jodi said she had red hair, so I figured she wasn't Asian. So there I was at Jodi's school for the year-end picnic, and I asked her teacher which girl Ceekay was. The woman looked at me funny and said there was no Ceekay in the class." Lisa rolled her eyes. "Ceekay turned out to be Jodi's imaginary friend. And to think I fell for it for the whole year. Either she's really good, or I'm really dumb."
Mike busted out laughing. "Jodi's really good."
Mike always booked Lisa's appointments for an extra ten minutes. He'd been seeing her since he first started at the practice. He'd gotten to know her and even her kids really well since sometimes she'd bring them in with her. "What about Sarah?"
Lisa waved her hand. "She's fine. Just dancing her little heart out. I had to take her for shots the other day, and she screamed and carried on. I had her on my lap with one leg crossed over both of hers and my arms wrapped around her so she couldn't move, and the little witch tri
ed to bite my face!"
Sarah's dislike of needles was legendary, but Mike had thought by the time a kid hit the age of seven she'd have gotten over it. Mike tried to keep from laughing; that kid was too much.
Lisa gave Mike a dirty look. "I was in the middle of scolding her, and telling her to apologize to the doctor, when he said it was okay." She shook her head. "Do you believe that? Like hell it's okay! The girl is an animal."
Lisa stood and grabbed her bag. She was definitely one of his challenging patients, but she was also one of his favorites. He walked her to the appointment desk and put her paperwork on the desk for Millie. Before he left, he turned back to Lisa. "You take care, and if I don't see you before, I'll see you in four weeks."
Lisa put her purse on the desk and turned to Millie. "He misses me when I'm healthy."
Millie beamed back at her. "We all do."
Mike went through the rest of the day with a smug smile on his face. He didn't let Dr. Meyer's behavior bother him or the closed-door meeting the partners held.
If this position came through, he'd be able to work like a normal doctor. Sure, a doctor's hours varied, but they weren't supposed to be insane.
He felt as if he'd been living the life of a perpetual resident. If his interview turned into an offer, he might actually have time to spend with Annabelle. A position with EHS would not only solve his social problem, it might also solve his financial difficulties and give him the possibility to change the minds of the partners concerning the Dr. Meyer situation. He'd have more leverage if he had a signed contract with a practice out of the area. The partners would be more apt to do whatever it took to ensure he wouldn't talk behind anyone's back.
In between patients, Mike text messaged Annabelle a dinner invitation. He was with his next patient when his phone vibrated. He couldn't wait until he could get away and check her reply.