casserole for you to take home tonight. I made far too much for us to get through.’
‘You’re as transparent as glass.’ Mario smiled. ‘Thank you, but I really wish you wouldn’t. I do cook for Sophia every day.’ No need to admit that more often than not he heated up something from the freezer, or that often by the time he did have food ready Sophia had fallen asleep on the sofa in front of the TV.
‘Just helping you out.’ Kay winked, totally unperturbed by his annoyed tone. ‘Don’t forget to take the dinner home this time.’
Oops. So she’d noticed that the last meal sat in the staff fridge for days before he remembered it was there. Contrite, he smiled. ‘I promise I won’t.’ Quickly scrawling a word on the palm of his hand he shoved his pen back into his pocket and looked up, straight into the amused look on Alexandra’s face.
‘You don’t write memos on your hand?’ he asked.
‘No, I don’t. I have an excellent memory.’
‘Unfortunately.’ Kay grinned. ‘There are times when we all wish you could forget what you’ve told us to do.’
Startled, Alexandra looked away from this annoying man to gawp at Kay. ‘Am I that much of a taskmaster?’
The nurse rolled her eyes and widened her grin. ‘The only thing missing is the whip.’
Kay was teasing. Right? A little? What if the staff did think she went too far with her demands of them? ‘I can be difficult at times, yes, but I’m only thinking of my patients. I’m not a tyrant. Am I?’ She’d been away too long. This was where she faced the world from, wrapping the ward and its inhabitants around her like a security blanket. Now worry gnawed at her. Because she’d found everyone falling over backwards to please Mr Forelli?
Kay chuckled. ‘Your little patients adore you, their parents trust you and we all like working here. There, satisfied?’
Mario cleared his throat. ‘The patient files?’
The files. Her head jerked up, turning in the direction of that voice that reminded her of red wine and crackers by the fire. Mario Forelli. To be going off on a self-pity tangent was so unlike her. She was tired, and the dregs of her headache still knocked at her skull, but they weren’t good enough reasons for this ridiculous behaviour.
Kay tapped her shoulder. ‘You’re doing it again, going all pale on me.’
‘Here.’ Warm, strong fingers gripped her elbow, directed her to a chair. ‘Take a seat. You must still be jet-lagged. It’s a long flight from Los Angeles.’ That voice was a balm to her stressed mind, tense muscles.
It also undermined her position as boss. But it was too late to argue. She already sat on the proffered chair. How had she got there so quickly, so effortlessly? Mario Forelli. That’s how.
‘Thank you. I’m fine, really.’ But she stayed seated and reached for the first file. ‘Tell me about Gemma Lewis.’
‘Gemma has spina bifida. Her family moved here nearly a year ago. Her father is a district court judge. When Gemma required surgery to realign her knees they came to see me rather than return to Wellington.’ Forelli’s confidence came through loud and clear.
Listening to Forelli explain the surgery he’d performed Alex tried to still the niggling sense of standing on the edge of a precipice. Of falling into a deep chasm she might never find her way back from. Who was Mario? Other than a paediatrician. In no time at all and with no knowledge of the man her thought processes had been hijacked in a totally distracting way. Not a good place to be. Especially, since he had a child, there was obviously a wife. Or a partner.
Or was he a widower? A million questions zapped around her skull, cranking up the throbbing behind her eyes. She should’ve taken a day at home to fully recover from her trip before facing all these changes.
‘Anything you want to ask me about Gemma, Miss Prendergast?’ Mario’s voice cut through her confusion, and focused her on the job.
‘I take it that you’re a paediatric surgeon, Mr Forelli.’
His mouth tightened, and she waited for an angry retort.
He didn’t disappoint. ‘I am, yes. Which is why Judge Lewis was comfortable with letting me look after his daughter.’
‘I see.’ He hadn’t really told her anything but this wasn’t the right arena to be asking with other staff hanging on to his every word like he was a god.
‘The next file is Tommy Jenkins’s. You know about him so we’ll move on.’ He lifted the third file from her fingers. ‘Amelia Saunders, ten years old, contracted dengue fever while on holiday in Fiji. Her liver took a pounding but with drugs her LFTs are slowly returning to normal and she’s starting to feel a little better. I’m thinking of letting her go home by the end of the week.’ The file slapped down on top of Tommy’s and another one was tugged from her light grip. ‘Andrew Frost. Fractured femur after falling off a horse.’ On and on went Mr Forelli. Completely in control. He answered all her questions without hesitation or referring to the patient notes. He knew his stuff. Very impressive.
Finally he said, ‘Let’s go and see these patients.’
‘Of course.’ Why was he in such a hurry? Did he want to get the upcoming conversation in her office done and dusted as much as she did? She pushed out of her chair. ‘If you’d like to accompany me, Mr Forelli.’ And she led the way out the door as Kay’s phone rang.
‘I’ll be right with you,’ Kay called after them.
Mario squashed down his annoyance with her. ‘Can’t you start by calling me Mario?’ He gave her a charming grin that defied her to disagree. ‘Everyone else does.’
‘I think you’ll find I’m not everyone else,’ she retorted, her proud eyes little warmer than a glacier.
‘How true.’ He huffed an annoyed breath. ‘You’re head of paediatrics with a reputation that’s the envy of all your peers.’ He stopped and leaned oh-so-nonchalantly against the closed doors of the lift access, easing another wide smile across his mouth as he assessed her. Again. What was wrong with him today? Taking all this time to suss out a woman? A woman who clearly didn’t want him here. Sure, he was tired after a sleepless night with Sophia but that was nothing new.
Then his mouth got further carried away with, ‘You dress superbly.’ Any woman would kill for that perfectly fitted navy blue suit and soft draping white blouse.
‘Thank you.’ Alexandra’s tone was still sharp but her eyes were warming. Just.
He started walking. ‘How long have you been working in Nelson?’ Where do you live? Who do you live with?
‘Three years.’
‘And before that?’ Have you got bambinos running around somewhere? Though if you do, then why aren’t you at home with them? And why did he want to know these things? This was his boss. Her private life was of no interest to him whatsoever. Just being friendly. And testing the temperature.
‘In San Francisco, specialising.’ Alexandra tilted her head so she could glare up at him more thoroughly. ‘I’m the one who should be asking questions. Such as, exactly how long have you been working here, Mr Forelli?’
So, not Mario, then. Not yet anyway. But give him time, he’d get there. ‘Almost four months.’
Her eyebrows did that imperious rising motion, disappearing under her fringe as the implication of that sunk in. ‘Four months?’
‘Yes. I started a week after you left for your sabbatical.’
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