Falling for Her Impossible Boss

‘I’ve got a clinic to finish, that’s all.’ Oliver could feel his frown steadily deepening. There had to be a way through this. ‘And then a theatre slot this afternoon. And you have to eat, you know that. I’ll be back later.’

With French fries, at least. He wasn’t ready to let go of the past to that extent. He didn’t think his mother was either. This was just a sign of how miserable she was feeling right now. With a bit of time, she might get over the upsetting episode of the track pants.

Coming back later was a good idea in more ways than one. If that extraordinarily annoying and probably incompetent nurse was on duty now, she would be due to finish her shift by three p.m.

There was no chance she would be anywhere in the vicinity if he slipped in quietly this evening with some fast food to try and tempt his mother’s appetite and that suited Oliver very well.

Very well indeed.

CHAPTER TWO

‘LADY who?’

Bella was somewhat distracted from what Sally was telling her because she’d spotted Oliver Dawson leaving the ward. He wore the suit very well, she had to admit albeit grudgingly. If only he was a bit … nicer, she would go as far as thinking he was very good looking. OK, gorgeous, then.

‘Lady Dorothy,’ Sally said.

‘Doesn’t she have a last name?’

‘Of course she does, but nobody uses it. And she’s a very well-known personality who doesn’t want her admission to hospital being broadcast so it’s important that you’re discreet.’ Sally frowned at Bella. ‘Can you be discreet?’

‘Of course I can.’ Bella straightened her back. She was being given a new responsibility here. Never mind that it probably had something to do with the ward being even more short-staffed than usual. Bella wanted to prove herself. Partly because she was finding the work here far more enjoyable than she had anticipated but it was also the sight of Oliver Dawson’s retreating back that was firing her new ambition.

She was good at her job. Maybe now people around here would have the chance to find that out.

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘She’s due for a BGL test. We’ll hold off on her insulin until I’ve talked to her doctor. That’s more of an excuse to get you into her room, though.’ Sally hesitated for a moment and then spoke quietly. ‘Lady Dorothy’s pretty down at the moment and nobody has been able to get her motivated about the rehab she needs to get started on urgently.’ The charge nurse gave her new recruit a thoughtful glance. ‘You might be just the person to manage it. I mean, anyone that can get Wally up and dancing has got to have an approach that’s drastically different. Just … tread carefully, OK?’

With that rather odd warning echoing in her head, Bella set off for the private room she’d been curious about ever since she’d arrived. The closed door and curtains had fuelled her overactive imagination and she’d decided there was somebody in the room who had some terrible disfigurement they didn’t want anybody to see. She’d told her Aunt Kate that she thought it was probably the hunchback of Notre Dame in there.

It was a bit of a disappointment to find it was an elderly woman. An extraordinarily beautiful woman, in fact, with skin that looked like it belonged on a peach and the most amazing silver hair Bella had ever seen. She kept stealing glances as she went through the routine of finger pricking and collecting a drop of blood to put on the end of the testing strip that was fitted into the glucometer. She did the job as gently as possible. Poor Lady Dorothy had a very nasty case of arthritis affecting both hands. Her joints were red and swollen and it looked as though she couldn’t move her fingers at all.

Her patient wasn’t talking either. As the glances added up, Bella could see the sadness and her heart went out to the old lady. A real lady, no less.

‘Why do you keep looking at me like that?’

Bella jumped. ‘Sorry, was I being rude? It’s just that I love your hair. If you could bottle a colour like that, you could make a fortune.’

‘It’s just grey.’

‘Oh, no …’ Bella shook her head emphatically. ‘It’s pure silver. And it sparkles. I had a pair of Lycra dance tights that were just that colour. I loved them, too.’

But Lady Dorothy had lapsed back into silence. She was just sitting there, against her pillows, staring into space. Bella moved around the room, tidying things here and there. Heavens, it was hardly going to impress Sally if she didn’t get anything more than a disparaging comment about hair colour as a response when she was supposed to be cheering this patient up.

The huge vase of fresh flowers probably needed some water but when Bella walked towards them, she caught her foot on a chair leg and sent something flying.

Thank goodness Mr Dawson wasn’t around to witness her clumsiness. She could almost hear his voice saying something scathing like how typical of her that was.

With an exasperated huff, Bella reached down to scoop up the bright pink object. Why on earth should she even care what he thought of her anyway? She wasn’t going to go back to being a theatre nurse. He’d put her off for life.

The huff became a gasp as she realised what she was holding.

‘Oh, my God!’ She held up the thick, fleecy track pants with the wide elasticised waistband and viewed the item of clothing with horror. And then she felt her cheeks getting hot and whirled around to face the woman in the bed. ‘I do apologise, Lady Dorothy,’ she said. ‘These must be yours.’

The look she got was pure ice. ‘They most certainly are not mine.’

‘Oh … thank God for that.’

Lady Dorothy was still glaring at her. Bella tried a tentative smile.

‘I shouldn’t say that because it’s no joke that my grandfather murdered my grandmother, but you know what?’

Lady Dorothy continued to stare but her eyebrows were moving slowly. In an upward direction. ‘What?’ The query was understandably wary.

Bella lowered her voice to a confidential tone. ‘If she’d been wearing pink track pants like this it could well have been a motive.’ Her lips twitched. ‘If I’d been on the jury and these were exhibit A then I’d certainly consider them to be an exonerating factor.’

Finally, there was a response from the elderly lady. A lip twitch that mirrored Bella’s. She unceremoniously rolled up the offending pants and put them back on the chair.

‘So, if they’re not yours, what are they doing in here? Shall I get rid of them for you?’

‘Best not, dear.’

‘How come?’

Lady Dorothy’s sigh was weary. ‘The occupational therapist brought them. I’m supposed to wear them because I’ll be able to put them on by myself.’

‘What? Is she trying to drive you to drink or something? What’s wrong with the kind of pants you usually wear? Oh …’ Bella grimaced. ‘Sorry, I’m putting my foot in it again. You probably don’t wear trousers at all. I’d imagine you wearing beautiful skirts and jackets or elegant dresses.’

‘I do wear trousers. I was wearing my favourite pair when I came in here. They’re hanging in the wardrobe.’

Bella opened the small closet. A pair of crisply pressed, pale grey linen pants could be seen. She lifted out the hanger and eyed the garment. ‘You know, I’m no expert but the only problem I can see with these is the zip and buttons and that could be easily fixed with an invisible strip of Velcro.’

Lady Dorothy was watching her closely now. ‘What about pulling them up?’

‘You could use one of those stick gripper things. Has the occupational therapist shown you all the aids you can get now?’

‘She showed me a lot of things.’ Lady Dorothy’s tone suggested she hadn’t been impressed.

‘Anyway,’ Bella added cautiously, ‘you’ll probably get a lot of movement back when the inflammation goes down. As long as you’re not as silly as my nanna was, that is.’

Lady Dorothy blinked. ‘What’s your nanna got to do with this? I thought you said she got murdered.’

‘That was Grandma. On my dad’s side and I never knew her. She was the skeleton in my family closet. Nanna was Mum’s mother and she lived with us for a while when she couldn’t manage any more. I loved her to bits.’

‘You said she was silly.’

Bella nodded, happy to finally have the old lady’s full attention. She wasn’t even looking sad any more. ‘She had a high horse. We used to tease her about getting on it so often.’