Resisting The Single Dad

‘I hope that it is.’

He stepped a little closer. ‘So, what will you be doing?’

She gave a nod. ‘Overseeing the whole place. Dealing with the drug companies and investors. Meeting the Japanese investors due in a few days. All the while mirroring what you’ll be doing here for cardiomyopathy in my own department for heart failure and heart regeneration studies. My clinics run in parallel with yours. We have two separate teams.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘And if I get half a chance, I might even clear Franc’s desk.’

He laughed. ‘Is it that bad?’

She shook her head as she led him back out of the cath lab. ‘Oh, no. It’s worse. Now, come along and I’ll introduce you to your team. I’ll warn you in advance. The secretary for the project, Marie, is the scariest, most organised, ruthlessly efficient human being you will ever meet.’ She bent over and whispered in his ear. ‘I think she might actually be a cyborg. But that’s another story.’

He tipped his head back and let out a hearty laugh. It was the first she’d heard since he’d got there. Her insides had been churning for a little while, hoping he wouldn’t say he didn’t want to take over Professor Helier’s clinical responsibilities. Not everyone would. But Gene Du Bois seemed completely comfortable. It was like water off a duck’s back to him. She grinned as she pushed open another door.

‘Don’t let it be said we’re not welcoming.’ A delicious smell met them. ‘This is the coffee lounge. Or the tea lounge. Or the natural fruit water lounge. Whatever your preference is—we’ll have it. And if we don’t? Let us know and we’ll order it in. We like staff to be comfortable. And well nourished. If you have dietary requirements—or if Rory has dietary requirements in day care—just let the kitchen staff know. They aim to please.’

He looked around at the comfortable red sofas, the TVs mounted on walls, the work stations with computers, and the large white tables and chairs for dining.

Cordelia kept watching him. ‘We like people to be comfortable,’ she reiterated. ‘Not everyone thrives in an office environment. Professor Helier doesn’t care where people work—just as long as they do.’

Gene nodded in approval and put his hands on his hips. ‘This sounds like a good work ethic. I could get comfortable here.’ Little crinkles appeared around his eyes as he smiled and she felt a little warmth spread throughout her belly. He was happy. Good. She wanted things to go well while Professor Helier was away. The last thing she wanted to do was phone him with some kind of disaster.

Gene strolled over to a glass jar stuffed with tiny sweets wrapped in gold foil. ‘And what are these? Some kind of treasure?’

She smiled as she joined him and stole one from the jar. ‘Gene, you’re in Switzerland. What are we famous for?’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘Alps. And the Geneva Convention.’

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. ‘You Americans. Chocolate, Gene. That’s what Switzerland is famous for. Chocolate.’

She held up her little sweet and started to unwrap it. Within a few seconds the dreamy cocoa milky smell had reached them both. He even started to lean a little towards it.

His eyes started to glaze. ‘Is this really a good idea for a place that specialises in cardiac research?’

She gave a broad smile. ‘That’s why they’re tiny. Just enough to give you the magical sensation of chocolate hitting every taste bud, without sending your blood glucose spiralling and your weight out of control.’ She gave her best intelligent nod. ‘You know, research has proved that if you just take a little of what you crave, it makes management much easier.’

He made a grab for the chocolate. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

For some reason, even though she wasn’t entirely sure of Gene, there was something very amicable about him. She felt quite safe around him. And while that might not be what some guys would want to hear, it was important to her.

She was very used to erecting walls around herself. But, after his initial reaction of ignoring her question about Rory’s mother, he’d told her—in his own time—what had actually happened. Most people probably felt sorry for him. He could easily take on the widower persona. But he didn’t. Not at all. Instead, he’d been straight about his story. There had been no great love between him and Mindy. He hadn’t even really had the chance to be angry with her. Cordelia didn’t have a single doubt that most guys would have been totally blindsided by all of it.

But Gene seemed to have taken the news about his son well. He loved his son. And whilst she was sure he wished he could change his genetic heritage, he seemed to have accepted it for what it was.

She met a lot of patients who hated what their genes meant for them. Something they could never control. Her own were the same. And she’d long since known that accepting what you couldn’t change was the biggest part of the process for some people.

Like her. Like Gene. And, eventually, hopefully like Rory.

She gave him a sideways glance as she led him down towards the offices for the clinics.

‘Maybe I should have recommended that you take a handful of chocolates to get you through the next part of the day.’

He gave her a suspicious glance. ‘What do you mean? Aren’t I just reviewing the patients and taking care of the clinic work and trial?’

She licked her lips and gave a little sigh. ‘You make it sound so simple.’

He stopped walking. ‘Isn’t it?’

She couldn’t help herself. She winked at him as she reached the doors. ‘Oh, Dr Du Bois, you have a lot to learn. Welcome to the Reuben Institute. Now, come and meet your master.’

* * *

Gene was sprawled across the sofa. Rory was also sprawled across him, sleeping, with his mouth open and drool landing on Gene’s shirt. He hadn’t even had a chance to change since they’d got home.

Cordelia appeared and took in the scene, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing her arms. At some point in the day she’d changed back into her red baseball boots. He couldn’t get over quite how quirky and cute she looked with her business-style dress and jacket, coupled with flat red baseball boots.

‘You survived?’ she asked.

He raised his eyebrows and held out his hands. ‘If I could jump off this sofa right now and chase you down, I would.’

She shook her head. ‘That’s fighting talk.’

He nodded. ‘It is. But now I’ve met your lethal weapon—Marie.’

Cordelia couldn’t pretend not to laugh. ‘I did try to warn you.’ Then she shook her head, ‘And, oh, no. She’s not mine. She’s yours. I did tell you might need chocolate to see you through.’

‘But you didn’t tell me why,’ he quipped.

She sighed and shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. You’d just lulled me into what could be a false sense of security. You’d told me you would stay. I didn’t want to frighten you off.’

‘You just left that to Marie?’

Cordelia laughed again. ‘What can I say? She’s chewed up tougher guys than you.’ She walked over and perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes on the sleeping figure of Rory. ‘I’m sorry. But Marie has been at the institute since the day it opened. She’s almost like the institute herself. She knows every patient. Every trial. She has the scariest but most brilliant encyclopaedic brain in the world.’

He nodded. ‘She certainly doesn’t let anyone get around her.’

Cordelia nodded. ‘And it’s not worth the energy even trying. And whatever you do—don’t use her mug. It’s the one thing that will absolutely tip her over the edge.’

He wrinkled his brow. ‘Seriously?’

She nodded. ‘Completely.’

‘Then thanks for the warning. What mug is hers?’ She could see him picturing the jam-packed cabinet in the staff kitchen.

‘Why, Dr Du Bois, couldn’t you tell just by looking?’

He narrowed his gaze. ‘I’m going to like this, aren’t I?’

She nodded again. ‘It’s Glinda. The Good Witch from the Wizard of Oz.’

His shoulders started to shake and he lifted his hand to the sleeping Rory on his chest, trying not to disturb him. ‘No way. It should be Darth Vader, or at the very least the Wicked Witch.’

Cordelia smiled. He seemed to have settled. On a few occasions she had actually been worried that Marie might chase some of the visiting doctors away. Her manner was...brusque, to say the least.

‘I agree. Now, what would you like for dinner?’

He placed his hands on Rory’s back and swung his legs around so he was finally sitting up on the sofa. ‘It’s my turn to sort out dinner—you bought pizza last night.’

‘But you’ve got your hands full.’

He shook his head. ‘But that doesn’t mean I can’t take a turn.’ He looked down and gave Rory a little shake. ‘He’s worn out from day care today. But, thankfully, he loved it.’

‘That’s great. I thought he would.’

He nodded again. ‘And you’ll see the hire company dropped off a car for me so you don’t need to ferry us around. I didn’t want to be an extra burden to you this month when you have an institute to run.’

She waved her hand. ‘It was fine. It was no problem.’ But secretly it was. She was glad he’d been thoughtful enough to hire a car. It meant she could head in early to the institute, or stay late if she needed to.

He looked up. ‘Why don’t you let me get changed and I’ll take us all to dinner. I’ll drive. You can suggest somewhere that suits.’

She looked down at her baseball boots. ‘I should change too. Shouldn’t really go anywhere dressed like this.’

‘Don’t. You look great.’ It came just a little too easily and she felt heat rush into her cheeks.

Rory started to wake up. ‘I’m hungry,’ he murmured.

Gene set him down on the floor. ‘Then it’s decided. Let’s go for dinner. And...’ he gave Cordelia a cheeky smile ‘... I may even tell you how I plan to conquer the mountain that is Marie.’

* * *

An hour later he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and sitting in one of the local restaurants that Cordelia had recommended. ‘The staff are great and there’s a good kids’ menu. It always seems to be full of families.’

That was recommendation enough for him and the service was quick.

She hadn’t changed. She’d kept on her red dress and her baseball boots. And even though he noticed a few raised eyebrows, Cordelia seemed immune to them. She was comfortable in her own skin. He liked that about her.

He could tell she was still a little wary around Rory. But that was fine. She didn’t have any kids of her own and some people just weren’t natural around kids. It wasn’t as if she ignored him. Or didn’t bother. It was just he could almost sense her nerves. They almost seemed to jangle when she had to interact with the little boy.

It almost felt as if there was something he just couldn’t put his finger on.

But tonight things were fine. They’d eaten dinner and, as he’d offered to drive, Cordelia had drunk a glass of wine. As they waited for Rory to eat his ice cream, he gave her a nod. ‘I know how to win her around.’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Who?’

‘Marie.’

He could tell she was instantly amused. Marie was a hard nut to crack. From what he’d heard, Marie had broken more than a few researchers who’d dared to challenge her on something.

She folded her arms across her chest. ‘And how, exactly, are you going to win Marie around? Tell me. I’m fascinated.’

His eyes twinkled. ‘It’s simple really. She loves my accent. She’s told me more than once.’

‘But that still doesn’t mean she likes you.’ She ran her fingers up and down the stem of the wine glass.

He gave a conciliatory nod. ‘No, it doesn’t. But she will.’

Now she looked really intrigued. ‘How?’

‘I have a secret weapon.’

For a second she didn’t say anything but her eyes rested on Rory, who was busy almost examining the bottom of his ice-cream bowl to make sure he hadn’t missed any ice cream. ‘Is that fair?’ The tone of her voice was a little strange.

He didn’t push her on the tone. He just leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m bringing out my secret weapon. I’m going to go full cowboy on her.’

‘What?’ Several people in the restaurant turned around at the rise in her voice.

He laughed ‘Yip. I’m wearing my Stetson tomorrow. Probably the boots, maybe even the jeans. What do you think?’

‘You’re serious?’ She had the strangest expression on her face.

He leaned forward a little, catching a whiff of her orange-scented perfume. ‘Of course I’m serious. What did you think I meant?’

She gave a little shrug but she didn’t meet his gaze. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I thought you might have been using Rory.’ She pointed across the table. ‘I mean, one look at his gorgeous little face and...’

Gene followed her gaze across the table, where by this point Rory had ice cream on his face, his hands and his T-shirt. But you’d never know, because he was still concentrating so completely on the tiniest bit of ice cream at the bottom of the bowl.

‘Everyone’s a sucker,’ he finished for her.

His heart squeezed. Even though she wasn’t that easy around Rory it was clear she could see the appeal that made him thankful every single day that he’d found this little boy.

He turned to Rory and lifted the bowl away from him. ‘Give me that before you start licking the bowl.’ He wiped Rory’s face and hands with a napkin. ‘Time to go home, champ.’ He raised his fist and Rory bumped his against his dad’s.

‘What is that?’ asked Cordelia.

‘The fist bump? That’s just us. That’s our move.’

‘Your move?’

Rory wriggled out of his seat and Gene followed, picking up the bill from the table. ‘You know, everyone has a move, or a saying, something like that.’

She put her hands on her hips. ‘They do?’

He nodded. ‘Of course. Don’t you?’

She frowned for a second. ‘I don’t think so.’

He nodded as he settled the bill. ‘Leave it with me. I bet you’ve got one. I’ll figure it out.’

They walked out to the car and Gene strapped Rory in before making a grab for something in the back seat before Cordelia had even managed to climb in.

His Stetson. He plonked it on his head with a cheeky wink. ‘Is that fair? Going full cowboy on her? Like I said, I’ll even wear my boots and jeans if you think it will help.’

Cordelia laughed out loud. ‘You really are going to wear that to the institute tomorrow?’

He tipped his Stetson towards her. ‘I told you, it’s my lethal weapon.’

He watched her suck in a breath as his eyes connected with hers. He was joking. Of course he was joking. So why had his heart rate just quickened? Ridiculous. It was like being a teenager again.

He shook his head as he took off his Stetson and climbed back into the car. He was only here for a month. He had work to do. And a child to look after. He couldn’t afford any distractions.

But as Cordelia hitched up her dress to climb into the car, he had a distinct flash of toned, tanned leg.

And try as he may, he couldn’t get it out of his head on the drive home.

CHAPTER THREE

CORDELIA SIGHED AND leaned against the wall as she checked the chart again. One of her patients was failing. Truth was, most of the patients in the heart failure study were failing—that was why they were here.

But Jonas Delphine was one of her favourites. He was an old sea captain, eighty-six, and had smoked for forty years. His chest complaints, along with his cardiovascular disease and heart failure, made him a difficult candidate to manage.

Some trials only wanted ‘perfect’ candidates. Ones who had no other health complaints but who had unhealthy lifestyle issues that could be changed and monitored then assessed to within an inch of their lives. But the Reuben Institute didn’t work with unrealistic patients. What was the point of that? More complicated patients meant more bias for the trials. Some people didn’t like that. Some drug companies definitely didn’t like it. But Professor Helier had always been clear. The institute was here to help real patients. Not perfect ones who didn’t really exist.

Now, after listening to Jonas’s heart and lungs, she’d just ordered another chest X-ray and echo cardiogram.

‘Something wrong?’ Gene’s voice made her jump.

She couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him. He’d been a man of his word and had come to the institute this morning full cowboy.

The patients loved it. The staff loved it. The Stetson, cowboy boots and jeans had certainly made their mark. Even the normally frosty Marie had seemed to like his unusual appearance.

Gene was still wearing his Stetson and tipped it towards her. ‘Cordelia?’

She held up the electronic tablet. ‘Nothing that a new heart won’t cure.’ She straightened up. ‘Actually, now that you’re here, you can give me a second opinion on someone.’

He held up his electronic tablet. ‘Great minds think alike. I was just coming to get you to do the same.’

A tiny surge of pride welled in her stomach. She was pleased. Pleased that he’d came to her for a second opinion on one of his patients. Hopefully, that meant he thought she might be a good clinician.

They swapped tablets. ‘You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.’

‘Aryssa Maia, forty-seven, hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. She’s had unsuccessful ablations for atrial fibrillation and she can’t tolerate the usual drugs. She also has a permanent pacemaker in place. I’ve checked her previous scans and just listened to her chest. I think her ventricle is getting to the stage it is barely functioning. She’s symptomatic, breathless and tired, with swollen extremities.’

She nodded. ‘I have a similar case. Jonas Delphine is eighty-six, with existing COPD and chronic heart failure. I think I’m going to have to take him off the study and put him on IV steroids and diuretics. In the space of one day he’s gone downhill fast.’

Gene nodded slowly. She knew he understood. The patient’s welfare was always their prime concern. But the regulations for any research study were strict. They didn’t want any findings skewed. If they used certain other drugs on patients then they were taken off the study programme. It was important that any improvement in a patient’s current condition was only attributed to the drug being studied—not to any other intervention made.

Cordelia sighed as she looked at Aryssa’s chart. ‘She was doing so well,’ she said sadly. ‘I really thought that this might be the one drug that could make a difference for her.’

Gene ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I get that. But my gut is telling me that something else is going on. I almost feel as if her pacing wire has moved. Her heart just isn’t functioning the way it should be.’

He glanced at Jonas’s chart and smiled. ‘Why do I feel as if this guy could teach me everything I need to know about life?’

‘He probably could. I’m not ashamed to say I love him and have a completely unnatural bias towards him.’ She lifted her hand. ‘That’s why I’m checking for a second opinion. I need someone who can just look at the clinical signs.’ She gave a slow nod and handed back Aryssa’s notes. ‘And as for your patient, I agree, she needs an ECG and a cardiac echo. I suspect her pacing wire has moved too. That’s what fits the symptoms, rather than anything happening within the trial.’

He gave a nod. ‘I ordered the tests. Just wanted to double check.’ He kept a hold of Jonas’s tablet. ‘Now, let’s go meet your patient, while mine has her investigations.’

* * *

Things moved so swiftly here. He was secretly pleased that Cordelia had come to him for a second opinion. By the time he’d sounded Jonas’s chest and looked at his hands and ankles, the nurse from his part of the clinic had brought along Aryssa’s ECG. It couldn’t be clearer. The pacing wire definitely wasn’t capturing, meaning Aryssa’s heart rate was erratic and low. Both he and Cordelia nodded.

‘I’ll come back and speak to her. But can you attach her to a portable cardiac monitor in the meantime and ask them to put a rush on that cardiac echo?’

The nurse gave a nod. ‘I’ll take her for the echo now.’

He gave Cordelia a nod and walked through to the treatment room. ‘It looks like we’re both about to lose patients from our trials. Jonas needs some IV steroids and diuretics.’

Her eyes were downcast for a moment. It probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear. But he knew she would always put the patients first. That’s the way it should be. Research work always brought these challenges and any medic who worked on the trials knew that.

She looked back up, nodding and opening the drug cupboard. ‘I’ll draw them up. Can you prescribe them on the tablet? Thanks.’

He gave her a nod and checked the bottles with her as she drew up the medicines. He couldn’t pretend not to notice the slight shake of her hands. ‘How about I do this for you? You can distract Jonas and persuade him this is a good idea.’

She sucked in a deep breath and let her hands rest back down on the counter top. ‘Do you know what? I’d like that. Thank you.’ She gave him a small smile and his insides clenched. He got the distinct impression that Cordelia Greenway didn’t normally let anyone help her. But from the way her jaw had been clenched and the shake in her hands he knew she was emotional about this. He knew she felt connected to this old guy. She’d worked here for four years. She might even have known him that long.

It was hard not to get attached to patients you saw on a regular basis, let alone nearly every day. It was harder still if those patients condition got worse—which inevitably frequently happened to doctors.

He understood. He’d been there and felt it himself. For the last few years he’d moved from place to place. All of his emotional investment had been in Rory. That’s the way it had to be. He’d had to learn to be mom and dad to the little guy. He’d always done a good job by his patients, but he hadn’t been around long enough to form lasting relationships.

And he missed that. He couldn’t pretend that he didn’t.

He moved his hand to lift the tray with the syringe and Venflon but Cordelia’s was still there. His first instinct was to pull away, but instead he put his hand over hers and left it there as she gave a little sad sigh.

She didn’t object. She didn’t jerk away. The heat of her hand filled his palm in a way he hadn’t expected.

It had been a long time since he’d touched a woman—held a woman. Of course he touched patients every day. But relationships in the last three years just hadn’t been possible. He didn’t want to be the guy who introduced Rory to a new girlfriend every few months so it had been easier just to let that part of his life slide.

So...this was different. Not new exactly, but just different. And up until this moment he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed connecting with someone.

She gave the briefest nod of her head and he knew it was time to pull away. He lifted his hand and let hers slide out from underneath his, picked up the tray, and gave her a conciliatory nod. ‘Let’s go and make Jonas feel better.’

* * *

It was the little things that made you realise how thoughtful someone could be. Her insides had twisted and turned at the thought of being the person who would deliver the treatment to end Jonas’s time on the trial. She knew it was essential. She knew it was the right thing to do. But part of her had ached, knowing she would have to be the one to do it.

The thought of not seeing him five days a week made her sad. After four years she was sure Jonas still had a world of stories to tell her. His cheery nature in the face of his heart failure made her feel more positive about her own condition.

She had to have hope. She had to feel as if one day her Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome wouldn’t cause some odd arrhythmia that would send her heart into a whole host of problems. For some people with her condition it could lead to death.

Five years ago her physician had sat her down and given her the news she’d known would be coming. She should look at a permanent contraception choice. Her Wolff-Parkinson–White syndrome was progressing. Her condition was unpredictable. What was certain was that the extra stress and increase in pressure of a pregnancy would cause huge strain on her already struggling heart. Pregnancy was out of the question. She’d never have a family of her own.