He didn’t wear a wedding ring.
She glanced at his left hand, double-checking, but she knew she was right. What she didn’t know was when she’d noticed and why. Not that it mattered. Lots of surgeons didn’t wear rings and his marital status was of no concern to her.
‘Is this your dog?’
She nodded. ‘This is Jonty.’
‘An assistance dog?’
‘It’s a project I’m involved with,’ she said. She didn’t see any need to mention that the project was personal and involved trying to fix her fragile psyche. There was no need to mention that her psychologist had recommended the programme. She didn’t intend to share tales about her private life with her new boss.
Finding out he was practically her neighbour was enough to deal with. He didn’t need to know anything more about her. She was used to mixing her work and her social life, there wasn’t another option in the military really, but things had changed recently. She had changed. She had become more reserved, more introverted, and that was part of the reason that Caroline had suggested Jonty. She’d hoped it would help to restore Abi’s confidence and alleviate some of her fears about the world. Bad things weren’t always going to happen. Abi needed to experience the world and remember the good things.
Damien insisted on paying for her milk, along with his own, and they left the shop together. As they stepped onto the pavement he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and pressed a button. Abi heard the sound of doors unlocking and saw the lights flash on a black, luxury SUV that was parked out the front of the shop. ‘Can I give you a lift?’ he offered.
It seemed he had the charming personality to match his very appealing features. But Abi knew how dangerous a weapon charm could be in a good-looking man. She looked at his car. There was not a speck of dirt or a scratch or dent on it. Its paintwork was immaculate and it suited him. It was shiny, sleek perfection and so different from her old soft-top. She couldn’t imagine hopping into something so tidy, let alone putting her hairy, thirty-kilogram companion in there too. Had he forgotten about Jonty?
‘No, thank you. We need the exercise.’ And she needed more time to think.
He was good-looking and charming, there was no denying that, but that was no reason to let him drive her home. She’d had good-looking, charming bosses before and things hadn’t turned out so well for her the last time. In fact, things had gone terribly pear-shaped and she was still recovering. She needed time to herself, time to heal. There was no room in her life or in her head for anything other than surviving. Her goal was to achieve emotional stability and financial security. She didn’t need any complications and she knew all too well how complicated men could make things. Besides, he was part of a ‘we’ and that was all she needed to know about him to ensure she kept her distance. Single men were one thing but men with other commitments were definitely off her list. That was one path she knew she would avoid at all costs. Being pleasant at work was one thing, mixing socially was another, but men with baggage were a definite no.
ABI ARRIVED AT The Hills on her second day wearing her smartest dress, a simple black jersey wrap, and nude-colored heels. She had a thin gold chain around her neck but she still wasn’t sure if she was dressed smartly enough. Freya had arranged a morning tea yesterday to introduce Abi to everyone and all the staff she had met had seemed extraordinarily beautiful and impressively well-dressed.
She supposed it made sense given that the clinic serviced the wealthy and elite of Los Angeles society but she wasn’t sure how, or if, she measured up by comparison. She suspected both her wardrobe and her looks were severely lacking and decided she’d have to wow them with her medical talents instead.
She found her way to her office, where she was greeted by Jennifer, the secretary who took care of her and Damien, and the news that Damien had requested an eight-thirty meeting.
A white doctor’s coat was hanging behind her office door. Still unsure about her outfit, she took the coat off the hook and slipped it over her clothes. She would feel more comfortable and in control if she was already in scrubs but this would have to do. Perhaps she could engineer her diary to ensure she spent most of her time in Theatre—she felt at home in that environment and in that uniform. She checked her reflection in the mirror on the wall and saw that the coat had The Hills’ intertwined double H logo monogrammed on the breast pocket. Like everything else in the clinic, even the coats had been taken to the next level.
Damien’s door was open. She took a moment to check him out before she knocked. He was wearing a different suit today, dark navy with a pale blue shirt and a red silk tie embroidered with blue fleurs-de-lis, but he still looked as if he’d stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Abi pulled the white coat more firmly around her as she knocked and entered. Her whole outfit had cost no more than a hundred dollars; Damien’s tie alone had probably cost twice that.
There was a coffee waiting for her and Damien slid it across his desk as she sank into the leather seat by the window. His office was identical to hers in size and also looked out onto an internal courtyard complete with a bubbling water feature that had a stunning metal sculpture as its centrepiece. Everything about this place was slick and professional and for the first time since the previous day Abi relaxed slightly. It would be nice to be associated with this clinic. This move could turn out to be a good decision and having something work out right for her would be a pleasant change.
‘Milk?’ he asked, making a reference to their unexpected meeting last night. His voice was deep but it lightened when he smiled. She’d noticed how it changed with his mood, from serious surgeon to friendly colleague to charming shopper, and she wondered which one was the real Damien.
She nodded but Damien was already adding it for her. ‘Do you know how our patient from yesterday is? Clementine?’ she queried. She’d been worried all night about the young woman who’d gone into cardiac arrest.
‘She’s in a stable condition. I just spoke to Geoff, our cardiologist. He’s monitoring her closely but he’s happy. She wasn’t physically strong enough to undergo surgery so, in a way, this is not a bad outcome. She’s had a long-standing eating disorder that her parents thought was being managed but it appears not. Clementine needs to agree to get more help,’ Damien replied.
‘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