She spotted that same look he’d left her with last night, and she’d interpreted it—projected her own feelings into it—as regret. That truly was how she felt, and that’s how life was sometimes—loaded with regret. And secrets best not shared.
He took her hand and shook again. “Nice to meet you, Grace Turner. If you need any ‘strictly professional’ help, I’ll be right next door.” With that, he turned and left.
Mitch wanted to kick the hallway wall. He’d botched up a perfectly good partnership, making his new colleague feel uncomfortable and regretting ever having laid eyes on him. The thing was, he’d really, really liked her, and it had taken every last kernel of restraint not to ask for her phone number last night, even though on the surface she wasn’t the kind of mommy material he had in mind.
But as always, before he’d been able to get the words out, the pain he’d endured from his wife choosing his best friend over him had strangled the thought out of him. He needed to forget about women for a while, especially beautiful women, and focus on what mattered most in his life—his daughter, Mia, and his job.
Some flaw in his ex’s self-esteem had turned her into a plastic-surgery addict, even though she’d been beautiful to begin with. Now he hardly recognized her doll-like appearance. And he was damned if he’d let that weakness be a constant example for his Mia. He’d moved as far away as possible four years ago, once they’d divorced and Christie had given him full custody of their daughter.
Those were the things he needed to focus on—his reason for being at this clinic, and for moving to London. A better life for Mia. Not the beautiful and fun-loving Grace Turner next door. A man was an idiot if he didn’t learn from his mistakes.
He plopped into his desk chair and tried desperately to get her crystal-blue eyes and especially her gorgeous mouth out of his mind. Damn. And after several moments of wrestling with his thoughts, he resolved to keep Grace at arm’s length. For his own good.
He’d given up beautiful women, had only dated stable potential-mother material after his first failed relationship on moving to London four years ago. He’d gotten himself involved too soon with one of the Hunter Clinic nurses right off. That had turned into a disaster with the nurse leaving the clinic rather than work with him once they’d broken up. So far the process of sticking with mommy material had been a huge failure, but he’d keep on. It was the only way. Nothing would stop him from finding a proper mother for Mia.
But knowing Grace was on the other side of their adjoining office wall would make deleting her from his personal life as difficult as—he fished around on his desk for the surgical referral of his next patient—making Mrs. Evermore look twenty years younger, which was her surgical goal on the application for a face-lift.
Grace spent the afternoon with Lexi on a tour of the two state-of-the-art hospitals where she’d be authorized to perform surgery. The Lighthouse Children’s Hospital was merely ten minutes away, and Princess Catherine’s was beautifully placed alongside the Thames with magnificent views from most patients’ rooms.
Lexi was a natural conversationalist so Grace didn’t feel pressured to talk much.
“If you’d like, we’re meeting for drinks at Drake’s wine bar after work tonight,” she said. “I’m bringing pictures of my dream dress for my wedding day. Now all I have to do is find a way to pay for it!” She laughed.
“Well, I can’t miss that, now, can I?” Thinking about the pristine and lonely apartment, Grace agreed to meet at the wine bar, as Lexi had described it.
“Great. We’ll go together.” They got into an elevator with a glass wall to allow the full view of the river Thames all the way down. “Oh, and the shoes I’ve got in mind are to die for. Of course, I might have to pawn the ring to buy both.” She beamed and poofed her hair.
Grace smiled, adoring the lady’s spirit.
Before she left the hospital, Grace met the man who’d be the lead surgical nurse on her team, Ron Whidbey, a middle-aged man of African descent who’d been born and raised in England.
Her first case—reconstructing a face, status post-cancer resection—was one that Mitchell would be involved in as well, as the twenty-five-year-old woman would need new lips. Apparently, that was his specialty. As for herself, she’d concentrate on reconstructing the nose and cheeks and recreating a philtrum in preparation for Mitchell’s side of the operation.
Tomorrow, during surgery, she’d be so focused on her patient she’d probably not even notice Mitchell was there. A girl could hope anyway.
After a long discussion with Ron about what instruments and setup she preferred and how she liked to approach reconstructive surgery, she felt they were both on the same page and had a firm understanding of how it would be working together. He promised to meet her in O.R. Six at Kate’s, as the locals liked to call Princess Catherine’s, at 6:00 a.m. sharp with the room set up and ready to go per her orders. Then off he went to have a meeting with his nursing team.
At 6:00 p.m., having not seen hide nor hair of Mitchell for the rest of the day, Grace heard a tap at her door. It was Lexi, keeping her promise to take her to Drake’s wine bar, at the Regent’s Park end of Harley Street. Within fifteen minutes she was sitting in what resembled a classic Victorian chamber with crystal chandeliers and overstuffed benches and booths, amidst dark colors and dim lights.
Surrounded by several of her new colleagues, she’d been served a glass of crisp, unoaked Chardonnay, and as happy as a lark she munched on crackers, cheese puffs, veggies with hummus dip and mixed nuts.
Across from her, Lexi’s fiancé, Iain, a fellow reconstructive surgeon who’d been working at the Hunter Clinic for the last few years, draped his long, muscular arm about Lexi’s hip and the woman seemed to no longer need a drink. Several of the nursing staff were also there. A chestnut-haired woman sidled her way between Edward North, the stiff but gifted micro-surgeon, and another nursing colleague, then introduced herself to Grace as Charlotte. They chatted about the weather and the surgeries the clinic undertook. Since Grace had been watching and waiting for Mitchell to show up, she said a little prayer of thanks for the welcome distraction with Charlotte.
Next, Lexi gathered all the ladies at one end of the bar. Grace joined them.
“Look what I’ve got.” Lexi whipped out a picture of a divine designer dress torn from a fashion magazine. “Isn’t it gorgeous? This is what I intend to wear the day I get married.”
A couple of nurses squealed over the dress. Charlotte was one of them. Grace had to admit the pink chiffon with ribbon waistband and decorative sequins was a sight to behold. She glanced at Lexi, who was transfixed, along with the nurses. She obviously liked pink, judging by the dress she’d worn today, and pink was certainly her color.
“Now the only problem is hunting down a good knockoff because there’s no way on earth I can afford this one.”
“If anyone can do it, you can, Lexi,” Charlotte said.
Grace smiled. “Good luck. Something tells me you’ll find your dream dress at the right price.”
“From your lips to the shopping goddess’s ears,” Lexi said. Once she’d put the picture away, the nurses went off to the ladies room, and Grace followed Lexi back to the Hunter Clinic corner of the bar.
Glancing around the extremely attractive group of people, Grace thought good looks might be part of the job requirement to be employed at Hunter Clinic, but then wondered why she’d been hired.
Though the clinic group seemed tight knit, they went out of their way to make her feel a part of things. She’d just about finished her drink and was feeling relaxed, and as she was performing surgery in the morning decided she wouldn’t have another. She asked the server to bring her a glass of water and just as she looked up, in walked Mitchell. Their eyes locked briefly, long enough to set off flutters in her chest, and he went straightaway to the bar to order a drink.
Every time she saw him her heart