Socialite...Or Nurse In A Million?. Molly Evans

One day she’d walk off like everyone else had and he’d be stuck trying to replace her.

      Normally, he would have walked past the photos on his wall without stopping, not allowing the memories to make him stop. Tonight he paused and really looked at the faces there as he hadn’t in a long time. He paused longest in front of Emilio, who had been seventeen at the time of this photo, and he had never grown any older. In an unconscious movement he clasped the sterling-silver bracelet on his right wrist. Every time he touched it he thought of Emilio and he touched it often, scratching the surface of the memory that he could never allow to heal.

      Miguel turned away from the image. He didn’t need a photo. Emilio’s face would be forever etched in his mind. The old cliché was that time healed all wounds.

      Not for him it hadn’t. He couldn’t let it. He didn’t deserve it.

      He moved away and tried to find the usual pace of his evening, but it eluded him. Images and thoughts of Emilio plagued him. Staggering guilt filled his chest and burned a path straight through his heart. The boy never should have been there, never should have come looking for him, but he had, and it was his fault that Emilio had died.

      He’d never forgive himself for allowing his brother to die. If only he’d been more skilled, or further in his career with enough skills, or better at convincing Emilio to leave the gang that was not a true family to him, that he had one of his own that loved him. If only he’d been a better brother, doctor, friend, Emilio would be alive right now and both their lives would be very different.

      There was no fix, no absolution for that one unforgivable act. The mistake he couldn’t take back and could never mend. Broken limbs he could fix. Broken lives were out of his realm. If he had minded his own business, Emilio might still be alive.

      Determined not to give the entire night to the ghosts, he turned on the news, got on his stationary bike and pulled out a medical journal. One of the three were bound to distract him for a while.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      THE next morning Miguel strode through the front doors of the clinic, which were already unlocked, and past a waiting room full of patients. Dammit. He was late. After a restless night filled with unwanted and haunting dreams, he’d finally fallen into a deep sleep just before dawn and had apparently slept right through his alarm.

      He strode to the nurses’ station and shoved his hair back from his face. “Sorry, Tilly. Who do we have up first?” Trying to calm his irritation, he didn’t want to be rattled when seeing patients. He could miss potential signs of illness if he were distracted. He couldn’t allow himself even that small lapse. Someone’s health, or life, could depend on it.

      “First three rooms are full, Carlos is checking vitals and Vicky is triaging the next few,” Tilly said, and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Relax, mijo. She’s good and the world hasn’t ended because you were five minutes late.”

      “Okay.” Miguel let out a relieved breath. “Thanks, Tilly. You’re a gem.”

      She cackled and returned to the computer screen. “More like a diamond stuck in the rough.”

      Still a little rattled, Miguel tended to his first two patients, with Carlos assisting. The third patient was going to require some labs and a chest X-ray that they couldn’t do in the clinic. He’d have Vicky fill out the proper forms and send him to the lab and then radiology department.

      The second he stepped out from the lengthy patient exam in room three, his mouth began to water, and he stopped in the doorway.

      “You okay, Doc?” Carlos asked.

      Miguel’s gaze darted around the area. “What do I smell?”

      With a chuckle Carlos clapped Miguel on the arm then pulled him out of the doorway so the patient could leave. “That would be coffee, my friend.” Carlos pulled in a deep breath and sighed as if sniffing ambrosia.

      “I know it’s coffee. Why is it here, and why does it smell like that?” he asked, still stunned at the fragrance and his visceral reaction to it.

      “Thanks to our new BFF, Vicky, we now have coffee for everyone. Really good coffee, too!” He laughed and led the way to a shiny new machine that emitted the most divine odor he’d ever smelled in this clinic.

      Vicky stood beside three cases of prepackaged coffee. “I hope it’s okay here. This way both the staff and patients can help themselves.” Obviously pleased with the arrangement, the smile she gave was radiant.

      Unfortunately, Miguel was about to wipe the smile right off of her face. “You have to send it back. I’m sorry, but I believe we talked yesterday about the budget shortfalls. We simply can’t afford the luxury.” He cleared his throat. “No matter what you’re used to, around here money is tight and there are no unilateral decisions made.”

      As they spoke, an elderly patient walked by with a cup of the steaming brew in his hand. “Thanks for the coffee, miss. I sure needed a cup today.” He continued on his way, oblivious to the conversation around him.

      “But—”

      “I’m sorry, Vicky. We can’t have it.”

      “But—” she tried again.

      “No. We can’t do without medical supplies for the luxury of coffee.”

      Now Vicky’s smile turned into an angry stare. “Your next three patients are in rooms four through six.” She picked up her clipboard and entered the triage area again.

      “You should listen to her, man. It’s not what you think. She did a good thing for everyone.” Carlos moved forward to assist a woman juggling her purse and a walker. “Let me help you with that,” Carlos said to the woman, but kept his eyes on Miguel. He jerked his head in Vicky’s direction and frowned at Miguel.

      With a sigh, he waited until Vicky returned from the triage area. She avoided eye contact with him and walked briskly past. Damn. Late for work and now he’d offended his brand-new nurse. Could the day get any worse? “Vicky? Can I see you for a moment?” He led the way to the staff lounge and waited until she entered behind him then shut the door.

      “What is it, Doctor? I have patients to see,” she said, the fire still in her eyes.

      “Despite my misgivings, Carlos tells me there’s more to the coffee story than I know.” He hated even starting this conversation, but the day was already shot to hell. One more delay wasn’t going to make it any worse. Carlos had never led him astray. Yet.

      “Yes, there is.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him.

      She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, and he supposed he deserved her irritation for not listening to her in the first place. In his experience, his worst-case scenario was usually right. “Will you please tell me?”

      “It’s simple. Happy patients come back, and they tell their friends about the place that made them happy. A little gesture like free coffee goes a long way in public relations. You can’t put a value on word-of-mouth advertising. It’s priceless. You may not think much of me, but I know that to be a fact.”

      “I know all of that, but—”

      “So I called a friend of mine that I went to high school with. He owns a coffee delivery service.”

      “But—”

      “And I talked him into making a charitable donation to the clinic for the tax write-off. He was pleased with my suggestion.” She turned away and reached for the door.

      In a split second, before he could even think about what he was doing, Miguel reached over her head and slammed the door shut, trapping her between the door and his body.

      With a gasp she whirled and raised her face to his, only inches away. “Open this door.”

      “No.