Either way, she wasn’t someone he needed to get involved with.
That evening he was walking toward his car when he saw Kelsey getting into an aging small compact that didn’t fit the persona he’d seen so far. It was nothing flashy, as he would’ve expected. She pulled out of her spot and passed him with little more than a glance. How could he be so aware of her when she didn’t seem to even notice him?
MIDMORNING THE NEXT day Jordon’s cell phone rang while he was familiarizing himself with some paperwork. Tapping the icon, he said, “Dr. King here.”
“This is the E.R. clerk. You’re needed here.”
“On my way.”
Rushing down the stairs, he made one turn and headed along a short hallway. He grinned as he walked. The last hospital he’d been affiliated with had been so large it had taken him five minutes to go from his office to the E.R.
He stepped up to the circular desk and said to the person sitting there, “I’m Dr. King. You paged me.”
“You’re needed in exam room three.”
He look around.
The clerk pointed and said, “Down that way.”
“Thanks.”
Voices came from behind the closed curtain that hung across a metal rod. This was another reminder that he’d left a more modern facility behind. There the patient examination rooms would have had been enclosed. Golden Shores might not be up to date on their buildings but by all accounts the hospital provided excellent medical care and had a clean report as far as any medical malfeasance was concerned. He had no intention of letting what had happened in Washington occur again. He’d been embarrassed and publicly humiliated on too many levels for one lifetime. He’d make sure this time not to get involved with anyone or anything looking remotely illegal.
One of the voices coming from the other side of the curtain sounded familiar. Pulling the striped material back, he saw a woman who looked to be in her late seventies lying on the gurney. Kelsey sat next to the bed and held the older woman’s hand.
Was she destined to turn up everywhere he went?
He raised a brow in her direction and made an effort to concentrate on the patient. Before he could ask a question a nurse rushed in.
“Dr. King, here’s the chart.”
He looked at the front page and said, “So what seems to be the problem Mrs.?” He glanced at the chart again. “Ritch.”
“Young man, you may call me Martha.”
He raised a brow. “Okay, Martha, what brought you in today?”
“I was playing bridge, as I always do over at Edith Hutchinson’s house, and I just blacked out.”
“Did you fall out of the chair?” he asked, concerned the she might have a concussion.
“More like slipped, Myrtice said as I was being put into the ambulance. Which is going to cost me my entire war pension.”
Kelsey patted the woman’s arm. “Now, Martha, that isn’t the important thing. We’ll take care of it.”
Jordon cringed. That was what his lover and partner had said just before they’d arrested her for insurance fraud. He wouldn’t take a chance on being involved in anything like that again. Jordon gave Kelsey a questioning look. Why was she here? She returned an unwavering gaze. Had she seen him wince at her words?
“Martha is one of my diabetic patients. She asked the nurse to call me.”
He nodded. “So did you feel like your blood sugar had dropped?”
The woman hung her head. “I knew when I ate Sally’s petits fours that I’d be in trouble.”
“Martha! We’ve talked about this!” Kelsey exclaimed.
“I know, hon. But there’s nothing like Sally’s petits fours. You can’t eat just one.”
Jordon cleared his throat. “Well, then, young lady …”
Martha giggled. Kelsey smiled, which captivated him.
A few seconds later Martha made a huffing noise. “You do know I’m the patient, don’t you?”
Jordon blinked and looked at her. “I’m well aware you are my patient. And apparently you don’t follow doctor’s orders. I’d like to keep you overnight and give you a good checkup just to make sure we have your blood-sugar level back in line.” He looked at Kelsey. “I also would like Ms. Davis to give you a refresher course on what to eat and not eat. Just in case there’s something that wasn’t covered.”
He noticed Kelsey stiffen but he wasn’t sure why.
“I understand,” Marsha said, with just enough humility to make him believe she might be more cautious about the number of petits fours she ate in the future.
“All right, I’ll get the paperwork started to have you admitted.”
“At least that isn’t committed,” Martha said.
Jordon chuckled. Martha reminded him of Ms. Olson, one of the patients he’d had to leave behind in DC. He’d miss her and what he’d worked so hard to build.
“I don’t think your infraction was that serious but you can’t keep eating petits fours. The nurse will be in to see about getting you admitted to the floor. I’ll check in on you this evening before I leave.”
Jordon pushed the curtain back and stepped out into the large open space of the ER. Before the curtain fell back into place Kelsey joined him.
“May I speak to you a moment, Doctor? In private.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond before she started out the double doors of the E.R. Left little choice, he followed her. She glanced back as she rounded a corner but continued on. He had a nice view of her high tight behind incased in blue pants that defined it to perfection. When he saw her again, she was standing beside a door. She pushed it open and entered as he approached.
Kelsey had no idea what she’d been thinking when Jordon had entered the small consultation room. Suddenly there hadn’t been enough space or air. She hadn’t been rational, she’d been too angry. She couldn’t afford anyone to imply she didn’t do her job well. He had inferred just that.
The chance of getting the job in Atlanta was far too important. If that got back to the administration of the new hospital she’d never have a chance at the position. It was hard enough to overcome the past, she didn’t need anything else to stand in her way. Some of the administration staff had known her as a kid and still had a hard time seeing her as a responsible employee.
The second the door clicked closed Kelsey turned to face him and took a step closer, putting only a foot between them. Looking up at the tall and rather large man, she questioned her decision-making. He gazed at her with complete innocence, which fueled her ire to the point she gritted her teeth to stop herself from doing something far more stupid and unethical.
“Back there it sounded as if you might be implying that I hadn’t done my job,” she hissed. “That I am responsible when a patient doesn’t follow dietary directions outside this hospital. I assure you that I instruct to the best of my ability but I cannot make anyone do what they don’t want to do.”
To her amazement, he looked surprised, maybe slightly annoyed.
“I didn’t mean to imply—”
“Whether you