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

scar on her left cheek that he wouldn’t have noticed had he not been so close to her. It was probably from childhood chicken pox or something. Without it, he would have called her delicate, but the mark saved her from being too perfect. At least on the outside.

      And he wondered again what this woman, who came from nearly unprecedented wealth, was doing in his humble clinic. The monthly income from the family business could probably finance his entire clinic for ten years. It boggled his mind to see her behaving just like any other nurse he could have hired. Frankly, he’d been against hiring her, but due to desperate measures he’d given in and offered her the job. Tilly had supported the idea of hiring her, and though his instinct had protested, he trusted Tilly implicitly. Vicky had looked good on paper, but that didn’t mean she could hold up under the kind of pressure they sometimes got in the clinic, though she certainly had today. He hadn’t changed his opinion in a few hours. Only time would tell, but he didn’t totally mistrust her.

      “What’s wrong?” She held his gaze, and nothing but curiosity swirled there. “You’re looking at me strangely.”

      Miguel met her gaze and held it for a few moments before answering. “What are you doing here?”

      “You hired me.”

      Frowning, he shook his head. That hadn’t come out right. “I mean, what is someone from your background doing at a clinic like this? Shouldn’t you be working at a private hospital somewhere?”

      “I could doesn’t mean I should or that I even want to.”

      The light in her eyes faded, and she stepped back a pace. A frown flitted across her face, but he supposed he’d surprised her by his question. He ignored the squirm that it caused in his stomach. He’d learned the hard way, too, that people were hardly ever what they seemed.

      “On the surface things are different than they really are. You must know that.”

      Wariness appeared in her eyes and her lips compressed. “I see. You don’t think I’m capable of handling this job despite my excellent references and my performance during the crisis we just went through?”

      “I know you’re capable of it, but I don’t know why you want to do it. With your family background—”

      “Forget my background. Please. I’m here for the same reason as you, Doctor. I’m here to help people who really need it, not putting ice packs on someone who’s had too much plastic surgery.” She huffed out a sigh.

      “Seriously, what makes you want to do this kind of work?” That was the big question. What made anyone want to do this kind of work? He had his reasons, which were private, very personal, and he wasn’t about to share them with Vicky.

      “If you’re through being prejudicial, I’d like to get back to work. Tilly can orient me for a while if you need a break from someone like me.” She turned to leave the room.

      “Listen, that’s not what I meant.” Dammit. He hadn’t intended to have this conversation and now that he was it was coming out badly.

      “I think it’s exactly what you meant, Doctor.” Pausing, she looked over her shoulder with a tight smile.

      “Vicky, this isn’t coming out right.” He tugged on his lab coat and straightened it, giving himself a moment to think. “I simply don’t understand why someone who has all the opportunities in the world would choose to settle for a small clinic in the middle of nowhere.”

      “Maybe I don’t consider it settling. I consider it an opportunity to expand my knowledge and skill base as a nurse.” She shrugged and the steam seemed to fade out of her. “In nursing, if you don’t keep your skills up you get stale and forget things. I don’t want to forget things.”

      He’d have to accept that at face value, because at the moment he could find no other obvious motivation. “That’s true for doctors, as well.” He flipped his stethoscope around his neck and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Guess I’ll get out of your way and let you finish up.”

      “Won’t take long now.” Vicky flashed a look at her watch and gave a surprised laugh. It was a nice sound, and one he didn’t hear often yet. “Wow. It’s only eleven. Feels like it’s quitting time already.”

      “I know that feeling of strange time passage when you’re in the midst of a code or something.” He’d had that feeling even before his residency. When he’d held his dying brother in his arms so long ago. That had been the first time, and he’d never forgotten it.

      CHAPTER THREE

      THE rest of the day passed by in a rush of patients, most with minor complaints, upper respiratory issues and someone who had flattened a finger with a hammer. She and Miguel reverted back to their professional roles after the short exchange in the patient room. There was safety in her role, and it was one she knew well. She’d performed it often.

      In her family, she’d been forced to play a role that she’d been desperate to escape for years. There had been various reprieves during nursing school and her short marriage. Now that she lived in the caretaker’s cottage on her family estate and not under her father’s thumb, she had found some relief. Living under her father’s roof again was not an option. Only by helping others who needed it and being a nurse did she truly escape the artifice of her family’s reputation, which always seemed to be more important than she was. When she entered the family domain, she was once again Victoria Sterling-Thorne, name before nursing.

      Nursing was too personal, they thought, too hands-on. Just donate money from a distance and be done with it was their philosophy, and she didn’t agree with it. There was simply something within her that wouldn’t allow her to do that. A sigh eased out of her. She wasn’t going to fix them, and they weren’t going to influence her any longer. So back to work for now was the only answer.

      The clinic stopped taking new patients at 4:00 p.m., so they were out the door by five when the clinic officially closed.

      “I gotta go, M. If I’m late for dinner again, my mother’s going to have a fit.” Carlos hefted a backpack over one shoulder.

      Miguel smiled at the young man and nodded. “Get out of here. Tell her I said hello and it was all my fault.”

      “You’ve got it.” Carlos strolled out the door and disappeared down the sidewalk into the early-evening shadows.

      “Tilly, you ready to roll?” Miguel asked as other staff members filed out the door.

      Tilly left the nurses’ station and closed the door. “Yeah.” She paused for a second, looking at Vicky, then directed a pointed glance at Miguel. “Good going, kid. See you tomorrow.”

      Vicky retrieved her purse from the locker and reveled in the tiny compliment that Tilly had given her. Although this was a new venture for her, she thought she might like it here. As she proceeded to the door, she realized that Miguel hadn’t moved and she waited for him. “Aren’t you coming?”

      “I’ve got some notes to finish first,” he said. “But I’ll walk you out.” He left the chart where it was and stood, but Vicky didn’t move. She stayed rooted where she was, looking at him seriously, assessingly, making him a little curious as to what was going on in her mind. There was something about her that made him uncomfortable, and he had no idea what it was. He’d been around plenty of lovely women and many nurses before, so simple attraction wasn’t the answer. Maybe it was the way her eyes seemed to penetrate right into him, trying to see what was going on inside. Maybe it was just bad lighting.

      “Finding time to play helps balance the workload, Doctor.”

      “It certainly does. For other people.” But it was one thing he hadn’t been able to do. All playfulness and joy had seeped into the ground with his brother’s blood the night that he had died. Part of Miguel had died that night, too. He hadn’t been able to prevent Emilio from dying. His brother had lost his life, so what right did he