conditioning in his car in an attempt to cool the after-effects of his early-morning workout and hot shower. He reckoned the gym was missing a trick with their opening times. A twenty-four-hour haven for members whose shift patterns and insomnia left them with too much time on their hands would make a fortune.
He’d stayed at the hospital until after Max’s surgery, making sure there was a friendly face by his side when he came round from the anaesthetic. Even though he’d been exhausted by the time he’d returned home and fallen into bed, the tiredness hadn’t overridden the all too familiar nightmares. Rob might not have been at the scene of the accident but it didn’t stop him imagining their terror, hearing them call for him before the sickening crunch of the impact.
Sometimes he would even wake from his fitful sleep thinking he could hear Mollie crying from the room next door, a sound which always pulled on his heart-strings like a harp. He’d be out of bed and on his way to tuck her in before he realised his mind had played a cruel trick on him. Thanks to his own stubbornness and a dumb kid in a stolen car, he’d never have a chance to comfort his daughter again.
The first rays of the dawn light often came as a blessing, heralding the start of a new working day where he had plenty to keep his thoughts busy. It was the downtime, such as sitting in this logjam of cars, which let his mind wander towards those things beyond his control.
As he edged forward in the morning traffic, he spotted a familiar figure by the side of the road. Jessica, with her slinky grey silk dress hitched up to her thighs, was running after a bus, barefoot. Rob slowed the car to watch the spectacle. Sure enough, there she was with those ludicrous heels in her hand for a second time. Silver ones today. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had matching shoes for every outfit in her, no doubt, vast wardrobe.
He wound down the window as he tailed her. ‘You should really invest in a pair of flats.’
She slowed to a casual walk although her face was flushed from her exertions and he’d already heard her swear as the bus pulled away. Jessica leaned through the open window and the auburn waves of her hair tumbled over her shoulders. ‘Are you going to sit there sneering all day, or be a gentleman and offer me a lift?’
He opened the door and turned off his MP3 player so he didn’t lose the upper hand here by revealing his love of cheesy pop music. Even though she was the last person he wanted to spend time with, he could hardly leave her stranded when they were going to the same place. Next time he might be inclined to pretend he didn’t see her and save himself from suffocating in her spicy perfume.
‘I didn’t have you down as the type to use public transport,’ he remarked.
The expensive clothes and the matching pearly-pink mani-pedi she was sporting weren’t in keeping with the thick exhaust fumes belching out from the bus in front. No, she’d be more at home in a sports car with the top down, cruising the streets of Monaco or somewhere equally fabulous.
‘I never did get around to taking driving lessons. Besides, the buses run regularly into the city centre from here and I don’t have to worry about finding a parking space. It’s my fault I’m late. I slept in this morning.’ Jessica leaned one hand on his leg to balance herself as she bent down to slip on her shoes. It was such an innocent, yet intimate, act but it burned his skin where she touched him. The rush of blood in his ears drowned out the majority of her chatter—something about missing breakfast—as she squeezed his thigh.
He hadn’t expected to react so … primitively … to being in close quarters with a woman he’d barely spoken to until twenty-four hours ago. It wasn’t as if he’d been a monk all of this time, where one touch from a woman could send him into raptures. He’d had a few flings but he lived by three rules—no one from work, no more than one night and keep things strictly physical. His partners knew the score from the start, so he could walk away without any emotional complications. No one would ever get close enough where he’d have to battle his conscience over replacing Leah in his life.
Jessica was attractive, successful and apparently incredibly tactile. What wasn’t to like? Unless you only engaged in overnight shenanigans and the lady in question was at your place of work for the next four weeks. In other circumstances he might have acted differently, encouraged further exploration of his person, but this would only be asking for trouble. He shuffled in his seat as his body seemed to outgrow his trousers and he was glad when she removed her hand before things became uncomfortable for both of them.
‘I … er … thought you might like to know Max’s surgery was a success. The surgeon managed to remove all traces of the tumour.’ He switched back to the topic guaranteed to draw out her ruthless side and remind him she was a no-go area.
‘I already know, but thanks.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t aware you were still filming him?’ He hadn’t seen any cameras down near the operating theatre and it wasn’t the sort of information the staff would’ve given her over the phone.
‘We weren’t. I got a text from his mum, Maggie, last night. I keep in touch with most of the parents to see how the kids are doing. Not everyone thinks I’m the devil incarnate.’ She was trying to get a rise out of him but she’d managed that with one snippet of information.
He couldn’t believe she was close enough to the families that they included her in their circle of trust. If what she was saying was true, that information on the children’s health wasn’t even gleaned for the benefit of the show. He would have to rethink what he thought he knew about her. His jaded perception of anyone in the media world had meant that he’d thought it impossible for her to be genuinely invested in these kids. To find out otherwise meant he might have to actually start being nice to her. At work.
‘Well, I’m pleased you have such a personal interest in the families but I hope you understand we still can’t have you breezing in and out as you please. We’re not going to hold back treatment to fit in around your schedule.’ The deliberately harsh words were an attempt to establish boundaries in a situation where he was scrabbling for an ounce of control. She was a member of staff by proxy and privileged to have been given access to the ward, after all.
‘I assure you I’m deadly serious about this job. My timekeeping is usually impeccable. Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep very well last night and didn’t hear the alarm go off this morning. I’m sure even you’ve overslept on occasion but you have my word it won’t happen again.’ Jessica stiffened in the passenger seat, her hands resting very properly in her lap as she rose above his accusation of complacency.
‘Good.’ Rob jammed the car into fifth gear as they got a free run onto the motorway.
‘Fine.’
An uneasy silence filled the interior of the car as they retreated back to their corners. Rob might have successfully asserted his authority over the crew’s presence in the department, but he’d also ploughed up any groundwork they’d laid for a semi-harmonious working relationship. All because he couldn’t handle being this close to another woman without freaking out about it.
‘Isn’t there someone else who could give you a nudge in the mornings, or give you a lift into work?’ He didn’t know why he was pushing for more information about her home life. Whether she had a partner or still lived at home with her parents was of no consequence to him. Perhaps he was simply hoping there was someone else in her life to take responsibility for getting her to work on time so he didn’t have to.
‘I’m single and rediscovering the joys of independence. How about you?’ There spoke the voice of a bitter break-upee. Someone who probably wasn’t in a hurry to jump back into a relationship of any sort. Not that her love life was of any consequence to him.
He had no desire to get involved in the details of her split, nor did he want to get caught up in an exchange of personal information with a virtual stranger. After a moment he decided to go with ‘Unhappily single’ to describe his current status. He wasn’t alone by choice, and he wasn’t too fond of the other label usually bestowed on him, since it portrayed him as some sort of tragic case.
‘What, no Mrs Campbell to see you off to work