Louisa George - Resisting The Single Dad

He stepped into the white cath lab. All the equipment was state of the art and practically sparkling. He walked around, taking slow steps, checking it out, running his fingers over the monitors before finally giving an approving nod. He opened a few drawers, looked where equipment was stored and then had a final check, familiarising himself with the contents of the cardiac arrest trolley. ‘Emergency code?’

‘Code red.’ She pointed to a phone on the wall. ‘Pick up any phone, say the words “Code red” and an announcement will come over the Tannoy. You don’t even need to give your location. It automatically identifies where you are and gives the location in the call.’

He folded his arms as he turned to face Cordelia. ‘Everything seems very well organised.’

‘I hope that it is.’

He stepped a little closer. ‘So, what will you be doing?’

She gave a nod. ‘Overseeing the whole place. Dealing with the drug companies and investors. Meeting the Japanese investors due in a few days. All the while mirroring what you’ll be doing here for cardiomyopathy in my own department for heart failure and heart regeneration studies. My clinics run in parallel with yours. We have two separate teams.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘And if I get half a chance, I might even clear Franc’s desk.’

He laughed. ‘Is it that bad?’

She shook her head as she led him back out of the cath lab. ‘Oh, no. It’s worse. Now, come along and I’ll introduce you to your team. I’ll warn you in advance. The secretary for the project, Marie, is the scariest, most organised, ruthlessly efficient human being you will ever meet.’ She bent over and whispered in his ear. ‘I think she might actually be a cyborg. But that’s another story.’

He tipped his head back and let out a hearty laugh. It was the first she’d heard since he’d got there. Her insides had been churning for a little while, hoping he wouldn’t say he didn’t want to take over Professor Helier’s clinical responsibilities. Not everyone would. But Gene Du Bois seemed completely comfortable. It was like water off a duck’s back to him. She grinned as she pushed open another door.

‘Don’t let it be said we’re not welcoming.’ A delicious smell met them. ‘This is the coffee lounge. Or the tea lounge. Or the natural fruit water lounge. Whatever your preference is—we’ll have it. And if we don’t? Let us know and we’ll order it in. We like staff to be comfortable. And well nourished. If you have dietary requirements—or if Rory has dietary requirements in day care—just let the kitchen staff know. They aim to please.’

He looked around at the comfortable red sofas, the TVs mounted on walls, the work stations with computers, and the large white tables and chairs for dining.

Cordelia kept watching him. ‘We like people to be comfortable,’ she reiterated. ‘Not everyone thrives in an office environment. Professor Helier doesn’t care where people work—just as long as they do.’

Gene nodded in approval and put his hands on his hips. ‘This sounds like a good work ethic. I could get comfortable here.’ Little crinkles appeared around his eyes as he smiled and she felt a little warmth spread throughout her belly. He was happy. Good. She wanted things to go well while Professor Helier was away. The last thing she wanted to do was phone him with some kind of disaster.

Gene strolled over to a glass jar stuffed with tiny sweets wrapped in gold foil. ‘And what are these? Some kind of treasure?’

She smiled as she joined him and stole one from the jar. ‘Gene, you’re in Switzerland. What are we famous for?’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘Alps. And the Geneva Convention.’

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. ‘You Americans. Chocolate, Gene. That’s what Switzerland is famous for. Chocolate.’

She held up her little sweet and started to unwrap it. Within a few seconds the dreamy cocoa milky smell had reached them both. He even started to lean a little towards it.

His eyes started to glaze. ‘Is this really a good idea for a place that specialises in cardiac research?’

She gave a broad smile. ‘That’s why they’re tiny. Just enough to give you the magical sensation of chocolate hitting every taste bud, without sending your blood glucose spiralling and your weight out of control.’ She gave her best intelligent nod. ‘You know, research has proved that if you just take a little of what you crave, it makes management much easier.’

He made a grab for the chocolate. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

For some reason, even though she wasn’t entirely sure of Gene, there was something very amicable about him. She felt quite safe around him. And while that might not be what some guys would want to hear, it was important to her.

She was very used to erecting walls around herself. But, after his initial reaction of ignoring her question about Rory’s mother, he’d told her—in his own time—what had actually happened. Most people probably felt sorry for him. He could easily take on the widower persona. But he didn’t. Not at all. Instead, he’d been straight about his story. There had been no great love between him and Mindy. He hadn’t even really had the chance to be angry with her. Cordelia didn’t have a single doubt that most guys would have been totally blindsided by all of it.

But Gene seemed to have taken the news about his son well. He loved his son. And whilst she was sure he wished he could change his genetic heritage, he seemed to have accepted it for what it was.

She met a lot of patients who hated what their genes meant for them. Something they could never control. Her own were the same. And she’d long since known that accepting what you couldn’t change was the biggest part of the process for some people.

Like her. Like Gene. And, eventually, hopefully like Rory.

She gave him a sideways glance as she led him down towards the offices for the clinics.

‘Maybe I should have recommended that you take a handful of chocolates to get you through the next part of the day.’

He gave her a suspicious glance. ‘What do you mean? Aren’t I just reviewing the patients and taking care of the clinic work and trial?’

She licked her lips and gave a little sigh. ‘You make it sound so simple.’

He stopped walking. ‘Isn’t it?’

She couldn’t help herself. She winked at him as she reached the doors. ‘Oh, Dr Du Bois, you have a lot to learn. Welcome to the Reuben Institute. Now, come and meet your master.’

* * *

Gene was sprawled across the sofa. Rory was also sprawled across him, sleeping, with his mouth open and drool landing on Gene’s shirt. He hadn’t even had a chance to change since they’d got home.

Cordelia appeared and took in the scene, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing her arms. At some point in the day she’d changed back into her red baseball boots. He couldn’t get over quite how quirky and cute she looked with her business-style dress and jacket, coupled with flat red baseball boots.

‘You survived?’ she asked.

He raised his eyebrows and held out his hands. ‘If I could jump off this sofa right now and chase you down, I would.’

She shook her head. ‘That’s fighting talk.’

He nodded. ‘It is. But now I’ve met your lethal weapon—Marie.’

Cordelia couldn’t pretend not to laugh. ‘I did try to warn you.’ Then she shook her head, ‘And, oh, no. She’s not mine. She’s yours. I did tell you might need chocolate to see you through.’

‘But you didn’t tell me why,’ he quipped.

She sighed and shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. You’d just lulled me into what could be a false sense of security. You’d told me you would stay. I didn’t want to frighten you off.’