Phyllis Halldorson - Professor And The Nanny

He thought for a minute, then spoke. “Look, why don’t I introduce you to Dad and see how it goes? He’s in the family room watching a baseball game on television.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Brittany said, relieved that he was at least going to give her a chance, let her meet the patient and see how they got along.

“Fine, then come on. It’s down the hall.”

Again he took her arm. She wasn’t sure it was necessary as a form of politeness, but she was glad he did. She liked the closeness it induced in her.

They walked down the hall to the right of the staircase and past a closed door until they came to a big open room across the back of the house.

It was totally unlike the parlor, or the dining room she’d glimpsed across the foyer. They were furnished in eighteenth-century decor, stately but cool and formal. This one, however, was strictly twentieth century with comfortable modern furniture, massive sliding glass doors and windows with a view that seemed to bring the colorful, well-tended gardens inside. A big-screen television set was tuned to a baseball game in progress.

The furniture divided the rectangular room into two separate areas. The television was the focal point to the left of the wide entryway, and the right side featured a marble fireplace with a long cream-colored sofa facing it from the middle of the room. There were numerous thickly upholstered lounge chairs in shades of brown, rust and beige positioned around both sides, and lamps strategically placed for reading.

An older man sat in one of the chairs with his back to them, avidly watching the screen, and didn’t hear them approach until Ethan spoke. “Dad, would you turn the sound down? We have a visitor.”

The man looked around, startled, and immediately turned off the set with the remote, then struggled to his feet. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you coming,” he said pleasantly.

“Please don’t apologize,” Brittany said, and held out her hand. “I’m Brittany Baldwin.”

She didn’t know just what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. Nate Thorpe was tall and slender, somewhat loosely put together, like a dancer, except she could tell from the way he swayed ever so slightly when he first stood that he had a problem with his balance.

He took her hand. His grip was firm and his eyes brown like his son’s. In fact, he and Ethan looked quite a bit alike, except Nate’s hair had turned iron-gray and he wore a mustache. He also wore glasses, but his were thicker than his son’s and had tortoiseshell rims.

His eyes sparkled as his gaze traveled over her and he smiled. “My short-term memory might not be what it used to be, but I know I’d remember you if we’d ever met before.”

Good, Brittany thought. He was playful, which meant he probably wasn’t depressed.

“Brittany is here to interview for the position of medical assistant,” Ethan told him. “Remember? I told you about it this morning.”

“Of course I remember,” Nate snapped. “I may be old but I’m not senile yet.”

Brittany winced and she saw Ethan flush. “Dad, I wasn’t implying that you are—”

He paused, obviously unsure of how to handle the situation.

She wasn’t, either, but she stepped in, anyway. She and Nate were still holding hands after shaking them, and she squeezed his. “We all forget things at times,” she said lightly. “I have to write everything down if I don’t want to forget it, and this college professor son of yours didn’t even know who I was when I showed up on your doorstep right on time for this appointment. One he had set up. Everyone’s got problems, sir.”

Nate tightened his grip on her hand, then let her go. “Hire her, son, before she gets away. If I gotta be sick, I want her for a nurse.”

Ethan knew when he’d been outclassed, outwitted and outmaneuvered. What he couldn’t figure out was how it had happened! One minute he’d had everything under control and the next his own father and the nurse he hadn’t even hired yet had wrested it from him and were dictating their own terms.

Well, that was okay. He wanted Nate to make his own decisions for as long as he was able to. If Nate wanted a nurse who was young and easy to look at as well as well trained, then Ethan would at least give Ms. Baldwin a try. After all, he could always let her go if she proved inadequate.

“All right, Dad,” he said agreeably. “If Brittany and I can come to terms, she’s all yours. Now, you turn your game back on and we’ll go in the library and work things out.”

Nate grinned. “Glad to have you on board, missy,” he said, and sat back down.

Ethan involuntarily reached out to take Brittany’s arm again, but then thought better of it. There was no professional reason for him to touch her, and he liked the prickles that traveled up and down his own hand and arm when he did so altogether too much.

He hadn’t counted on hiring such an attractive nurse. Attractive! She was downright beautiful. Her rich, dark brown hair was parted in the middle and hung free to her shoulders with bangs across her forehead. He ached to run his fingers through it and feel its softness. Her eyes were grass-green and looked at him with wide speculation that made his blood rush to his head. Sexy wasn’t nearly a strong enough word to describe the way she walked and talked.

But she was also little more than a child. Twenty-one years old. A lot of his students were older than that. Hell, he’d already been fourteen when she was born!

Enough of that, he thought as he preceded her to the closed door they’d passed earlier and opened it into the library. This was his favorite room, smaller than the others with a brick fireplace, bookshelf-lined walls, a leather sofa, a large mahogany desk and a couple of desk chairs. He could relax in here, renew his energy and prepare his lessons and lectures for upcoming classes.

He found it a good place to try to clear his mind of the unsettling problems and troubling speculations his father’s illnesses had brought with them. He invited Brittany to sit down, then took the chair behind the desk.

“You have a beautiful home,” she said as she looked around. “How I envy you these books. Have you read all of them?”

“Most of them,” he admitted. “The house and antique furnishings were a legacy from my mother. She was a true Southern lady. Impeccable manners and charm were born and bred into her from generations going back to before the Civil War. She inherited the house from her father and in turn passed it on to Dad when she died.”

He leaned forward and put his arms on the desk. “It’s awfully big for just the two of us, and it’s getting more and more expensive to keep up, but we could never sell it.”

“Of course you couldn’t. You and your brother will want to pass it on to your children.” There was sympathy mixed with understanding in her tone.

Much as he appreciated her empathy, she wasn’t here to discuss his problems and he pulled his attention back to the subject at hand. “Do you really want this job, Brittany?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand to stop her. “Think carefully before you answer. Given proper attention to his diabetes Nate could live for another twenty years.”

Again she opened her mouth and once more he silenced her. “No, hear me out. I certainly don’t expect you to spend the next twenty years of your life taking care of us—”

He heard himself say “us” and snapped his mouth shut. That wasn’t what he’d meant! She wouldn’t be hired to look after him. Just his father!

He felt the flush that colored his face but decided to ignore it and go on. “That is, I realize you would eventually want to go back to school to get your bachelor of science degree in nursing, or get married and move away, whatever, but I don’t want Nate subjected to a new caretaker every few months. He gets confused enough without adding that to the indignities he has to endure.”