Emily Forbes - Falling For The Single Dad - A Single Dad Romance

‘What was she booked in for?’

‘A breast enlargement,’ Damien explained. ‘James had been delaying her operation, telling her she had to put on weight because her body wouldn’t cope with an anaesthetic, but I have no idea if this episode will make any difference. From what I understand, she’s had intervention and therapy many times before. Freya is going to see her with her psychologist’s hat on—she has a special interest in patients who have eating disorders—but if Clementine isn’t receptive she’ll be transferred to another facility. Apparently Clementine wants to stay here and her parents have agreed so that will be the carrot Freya dangles.’

James Rothsberg was the head of the clinic and also a reconstructive and plastic surgeon, and Abi was relieved to hear that he had put the patient’s well-being first but surprised to hear that Clementine had been scheduled for a breast enlargement. ‘Do you do a lot of cosmetic surgery here?’

‘We are in Hollywood.’

‘I realise that.’

‘It’s not all we do,’ Damien continued, ‘but you’re assisting me in Theatre today and it’s what’s on our list and what I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘We’re doing cosmetic surgery? That’s not what I expected.’ She was a specialist in the field of plastic and reconstructive surgery but her experience was in the reconstructive side of things. Cosmetic surgery wasn’t her forte.

‘It’s awards season in Hollywood,’ Damien said as he shrugged his shoulders in his bespoke suit jacket. ‘The film industry awards are only twelve days away, which makes this our busiest time of the year. Everyone wants something done without anyone knowing about it. James can’t possibly keep up with the demand so I lend a hand.

‘Don’t worry, no one will know you’ve relaxed your ethics,’ he added, making her wonder if he’d had another look at her résumé and refreshed his knowledge of her background. ‘The celebrities don’t want anyone to know they’ve had surgical assistance to look their best on awards night. We have a lot of rather wealthy and sometimes reclusive patients who demand privacy and anonymity. They won’t mention your name and they expect the same consideration from you.’

He smiled again and Abi’s breath caught in her throat. ‘All your recognition will come from your reconstructive work and there will be plenty of that. We have an arrangement with the Bright Hope Clinic to do some charitable work for the underprivileged children who are treated there and that, along with the other external referrals that come to us for reconstructive surgery, will keep you occupied most of the time. But this cosmetic work on the celebrities and their partners, and the Hollywood heavy hitters and their mistresses, wives and girlfriends, and the cash they are prepared to part with for the best medical care and for our discretion means that we are able to do that charity work, and I suspect that will appeal to you.

‘You will get paid for any charity work that you do but The Hills, by which I mean James, absorbs those expenses. We are strong believers in giving back to the community. It’s a win-win situation. So, does that make you feel better about today’s list?’

Abi nodded. She hadn’t really thought about the ramifications of the clinic’s location on the client base but Damien’s explanation did ease her conscience. Besides, the surgical procedures were the same no matter what you called them. Although the surgeries were performed for different reasons, aesthetics or function, the actual operations were similar and giving them labels such as cosmetic or reconstructive was really just semantics.

‘Okay,’ Damien continued, ‘on today’s list we have two blepharoplasties, one neck lift, two liposuctions, a breast lift and an arm lift. I have to warn you, a couple of our patients are men. One is a very well-known actor who has decided to treat himself to a neck lift and the other patient has recently left his wife and is planning on unveiling his much younger girlfriend at the awards and he wants to take a few years off his face with an eyelid lift. But remember, discretion is something we guarantee at The Hills and I know it’s been written into your contract but I need to know that you can rock a poker face. It doesn’t matter what we think about cosmetic surgery, these patients have their reasons for undergoing this work and we need to be discreet and respectful.’

Abi had plenty of her own insecurities. While she didn’t think she’d ever resort to cosmetic surgery, as her insecurities weren’t really physical, she could understand people’s need to change or to make a better version of themselves to boost their confidence, and she wasn’t going to judge them for their choices. She understood that different things worked for different people and she certainly wouldn’t criticise a patient’s decision, although, given the opportunity, she thought she might try to dissuade some of the people some of the time.

She wondered what the clinic’s policy on that was. Was honesty considered the best policy or was the bottom line the main consideration? But she wasn’t going to ask that question on her second day. She would toe the line for the moment, there would be time to find out later just how much she was expected to keep her opinion to herself.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said as she finished her coffee. ‘I understand how this works.’

The day ran smoothly and the time passed quickly, as it always seemed to when she was immersed in surgery. She was impressed with Damien’s skill but also with the way he related to the theatre staff. He treated everyone with respect and she could tell that the nurses adored him. She had done a large percentage of each of the surgeries under Damien’s watchful eye and he’d been encouraging and complimentary about her skills. As far as she could tell, there was not a vast difference between cosmetic surgery and regular reconstructive surgery, although it was perhaps always important to make sure the stitches were as tiny and neat as possible, and preferably hidden, in all cosmetic procedures. But neat stitching was one thing she had always prided herself on.

They were finishing off the second blepharoplasty and there was one more surgery still to come when the theatre phone rang. The blepharoplasty was something different for Abi. She was used to repairing eyelids, stitching eye injuries and even, on one occasion, making a new eyelid, but to do an eyelid lift purely to make someone look younger was novel.

The scrub nurse had answered the phone and Abi could see her looking at Damien. ‘Dr Moore, it’s for you, it’s your daughter’s school. Apparently no one has come to collect her.’

He had a daughter?

She didn’t know why she was so surprised. She knew he was a ‘we’ but a daughter was more than she’d expected.

‘Can you finish up for me, Dr Thompson?’ Damien asked as he tied off the last stitch. Abi glanced at the clock on the theatre wall. It was already after four in the afternoon and she wondered what he was planning on doing. ‘She needs ointment applied to her eyelids before they are bandaged,’ he continued.

‘I can do it,’ the theatre nurse offered. Abi wasn’t sure if she was offering because she saw Abi’s vague expression and took pity on her or whether she was trying to get into Damien’s good graces, but Abi wasn’t about to let her take over. She could do this.

‘I’ve got it,’ she said.

She listened in to Damien’s conversation as she applied the ointment. He could have taken the call on another phone but he seemed quite happy to have the conversation in front of the staff.

‘This is Dr Moore,’ Damien said, as the scrub nurse held the phone to his ear. He could feel the pressure building in his chest as anger rose in him. What was Brooke up to now? She was supposed to be collecting Summer from school. Had she forgotten again? What was the point of making arrangements with her if she was so unreliable? He worked hard to accommodate his ex-wife, he wanted to make sure that their daughter got to spend time with both of them, but sometimes Brooke made it impossible.