Shirley Hailstock - Healing The Doctor's Heart

People around her moved aside, giving her plenty of room. Many looked curiously at her. She was talking to herself without a phone near her mouth or earbud cords streaming down to some concealed electronic device. Thankfully, she was clean, well dressed and carrying shopping bags, but that wasn’t proof that she had all her faculties.

Resuming her steps, Lauren thought of the recent interview with Caleb, only two days ago. She’d gone to it hoping Jake would be there, as well. It was her way of reconnecting with him. They hadn’t met in years. She was going to explain who she was, but that approach changed when the only person in the room was Caleb. She should have left before she made the mistake of asking about Jake, explaining that they went to college together. Caleb’s interest piqued when she said that. Of course, she was Lauren Graves back then. Everyone called her Lori. Caleb then offered her the position. She accepted it and walked away.

And that was the stupid thing.

She objected to his argument that she was perfect for the job after she’d told him she wasn’t a therapist. She was a pediatrician, dealing with children and overanxious mothers.

“He’s seen too many doctors and refuses to see another one,” Caleb said. That’s when he told her he didn’t want Jake to find out her profession.

She should have refused, left the room as fast as her spiked heels would carry her. Lauren didn’t really want a job. Not now. She’d sold her practice. Her plans were to leave New York, move to a small town near the ocean or out west and reestablish her pediatric office. How could she let herself be talked into a job as a nonmedical aide for a man she hadn’t seen in decades and conceal who she was? She was a doctor and proud of it.

And he was a broken man at that.

The schoolgirl crush she’d had on Jake Masters was preoccupying at the time, but she was an adult now, thankful that Jake was ignorant of her prior feelings. As a junior to her freshman in college, Jake didn’t even know who she was. She was sure he wouldn’t recognize her. But she wanted to see him anyway. She couldn’t explain it other than to say she wanted to know if he was still as good-looking as he’d been in college and if that foolish crush she’d had on him was still there.

In the years since she finished school, she’d thought of him in passing, usually when she was online with a school chum, or if she went to a social event with college friends. In medical school, she wondered what he was doing. Once, she’d looked him up on the internet and found a reference that he was entered in a tennis tournament. He’d been good at athletics and she was surprised that he hadn’t pursued that as a line of work.

Until Caleb told her Jake was a trauma surgeon, she wouldn’t have thought the two of them had medicine as a common denominator. Now she was about to find out what else they had in common.

Lauren had reached that imaginary line.

HER HEART THUMPED the moment Jake came out of the office building. Caleb had said he was in. Looking down at the ground, seeing the imaginary line, she hesitated for a long moment, and then watched him moving toward her. Taking a deep breath, she rushed forward, the bags and packages in her hands swinging back and forth as she sped toward some pretend engagement. There were plenty of people on the street. Not only was it the end of the lunch hour, but also the tourists in this section of the city were thick and unpredictable.

Jake’s head was down as he dodged the human traffic coming in all directions. Intentionally, Lauren bumped into him and like an actor on a stage, she bounced back, falling to the ground, her packages scattering everywhere.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, offering his left hand to help her up.

Lauren pulled her belongings close to her as other pedestrians pushed her things back in the bags and handed them to her. Finally, she took Jake’s hand and he levered her up. His hand was soft, but strong, a doctor’s hand. She was surprised at the strength of him. Even though she knew that the loss of use in his right arm had likely strengthened other part of his body, she hadn’t expected to feel so weightless as he pulled her into a standing position.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She forced herself to breathe hard as she used her free hand to brush any street dirt from her skirt.

“I guess I’ll live. I’m mostly embarrassed. My pride is a little injured but holding. It looks like my shoe bore the brunt of the physical damage.” She hopped on one foot showing him the severed heel of her sandal.

“Let me get you a taxi,” he offered.

She wondered how he was going to do that if he didn’t let go of her and use his left hand to signal for a cab.

“I don’t need a taxi. I’m fine and I live in Brooklyn.”

“The cost will be mine,” he said. “After all, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She smiled. “I was walking too fast. How about we settle it with a cup of coffee.” She looked behind him. Several shops, including a coffee bar, an Italian restaurant and a Greek eatery beckoned. “I have a new pair of shoes in one of these bags.” She glanced down, lifting the bags slightly away from her. “I can change inside.”

He looked around, probably noticing the eating places for the first time. Lauren could tell he wasn’t exactly planning to spend any more time with her.

“I don’t usually eat out,” he said.

“I don’t either, but I’m leaving the city soon and I’m trying out some new things before I head into the great unknown.” She gave the last words an uptake of tone. “Come on, have some coffee with me.”

“Well”

She didn’t give him time to refuse. Grabbing his left arm, she propelled him forward. “I’ll even spring for the coffee.”

He allowed her to pull him along, but when she neared the coffee bar, he stopped.

“This one would be more comfortable,” he said. It was the Italian restaurant.

“You like Italian food.” Lauren stated the obvious.

They went in. Lauren did her one-legged hop step as they followed the waiter to a secluded booth. The place was beautifully appointed. She felt as if she’d stepped from a New York street straight into Provence or Naples. Most of the tables were empty. Waiters had already begun preparing them for the dinner crowd. White tablecloths with bud vases holding a single rose, bone china and silverware gleaming in the light.

Luck was still with her as she settled her bags and placed her napkin in her lap. The line was crossed, and there was no going back, yet there were more hurdles for her to jump before she did what she’d been hired to do.

“Have you had lunch?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“They have some very fine food here. It’s all made with fresh ingredients,” he said.

So, he did know about the restaurants in the area. She’d been wrong in that. It was a mistake on her part. She’d have to be more alert in the future or he’d trip her up.

“I suppose that’s how you like your food?” she said, just to have something to say.

He looked her straight in the eye for a long time. Lauren felt as if he was able to see into her mind. Then she realized the string of nurses and therapists he’d had in the past must have asked a question like that.

“You don’t have to cut me with your eyes. I like fresh food too,” she said.

He relaxed a bit. The waiter arrived and they quickly ordered.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” she asked when they were alone again.

“You are certainly direct for someone I only met a moment ago.”

She nodded. “You’re right, especially since we haven’t even exchanged names.”