The Surgeon's Cinderella
Whitney pulled the chair closer to the bed. She took the thin hand of her new friend and held it gently. “That’s understandable.”
Half an hour later a nurse came in and flipped on the overhead lights. “Mr. Wilcox, Dr. Locke is ready for you in the OR.”
Whitney stood and pushed the chair away from the bed. “I’m going to say bye now. I’ll wait around and see how you’re doing. I’ll be by to visit again soon.” She leaned over and gave the man a kiss on the forehead.
“And I’m going to look forward to dancing at your wedding.”
That was an odd thing for him to say, especially since she’d said nothing about getting married, but she didn’t question his statement. Maybe his mind was fuzzy.
The nurse gave her an odd look. “Dr. Locke said you could wait in the surgery waiting room on the first floor.”
“Thank you,” Whitney told the nurse. “See you soon, Mr. Wilcox.”
* * *
Over the next few hours Whitney watched the weather channel on the TV in the waiting room, read a three-month-old magazine and dozed on and off, but otherwise remained anxious about what was happening in the operating room. She was concerned on two levels. Knowing what Mr. Wilcox meant to Tanner, she was sure he would take it hard if the transplant didn’t go well. Then there was her fondness for the older man as well. With her nerves in a jumble, she also paced the room.
She’d been in the waiting room almost six hours when Tanner appeared at the door. He looked tired but it was wonderful to see him. He still wore his surgical cap and scrubs.
Whitney hurried toward him. “How’s Mr. Wilcox?”
Tanner smiled. “He’s in ICU and doing well.”
Whitney hugged him and he returned it. “Now it’s time for you to go home. I’ll walk you to the front door and one of the security guys is going to drive you.”
“What about you? You need to rest.” Guilt washed over her. He’d had to sleep on the small sofa the night before, had been up early for the balloon ride and when he could have napped more they had been making love. Tanner had had little rest because of her.
He directed her toward the lobby door with his hand at her waist. “I’ll be fine. I’m used to this.”
The security man was waiting when they arrived. “What about my bags?”
“They’re already in the van.”
She grabbed his arm. “You’ll let me know how Mr. Wilcox is doing?”
“I’ll call you if there’s any change,” Tanner assured her. “Now go home and get some sleep.” He gave her a hug and kissed her forehead.
By the time she was seated in the passenger seat of the hospital van Tanner had already disappeared. It was three in the morning and she paid little attention to what was going on around her on the way home. What had happened to her life? The one she understood? Tanner had entered it and spun it in a new direction. More than that, when he left, and he would, it would come crashing down. She was a woman in love who was destined for heartache.
Love. Heaven help her but she had stepped over the line. She had to stop this now. Next time she saw Tanner she would return his fee and give him the name of another matchmaker. She couldn’t continue setting him up with other women. That would be more than her heart could take. Covering up her feelings would be impossible. If she told him now, maybe she would have a chance to recover, heal. But breaking it off would be the most painful thing she’d ever had to do.
It. There was no it between them. They’d just enjoyed sex as far as Tanner was concerned. What was there to break off? As far as he was concerned it would be no big deal while her heart would be crumbling.
* * *
Most of the day had come and gone when there was a knock on her front door. Whitney answered it to find Tanner standing there. Wearing the jeans and shirt he’d gone to the hospital in, he looked haggard.
“Hey,” he said.
Concern gathered in her chest. “Is something wrong? Did something happen to Mr. Wilcox?”
“No, he’s doing fine. Even asking when you’re coming to see him again.”
Relief filled her. So why was Tanner there? “That’s good news.”
“Can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” She couldn’t turn him away now. Moving out of the entrance, she allowed Tanner to step in. He continued into the living room. Whitney closed the door and joined him.
“You look like you should be at home, getting some rest. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“At this time of the day maybe a soda or an iced tea.” He was looking around the room as if evaluating it.
She waited, unsure if he would appreciate her shabby-chic style.
“Nice place. Comfortable. Like you.”
Whitney wasn’t sure that was a compliment but it didn’t matter. Tanner would be gone from her life soon. “Thanks. I do have some iced tea made. Have a seat and I’ll get a glass for you.”
Gone only minutes, she returned to find Tanner with his head resting against the sofa back sound asleep. He looked out of place on the pink rose-printed fabric that covered the sofa, yet in an odd way he seemed to belong there as well. Pulling the thin white curtains over the windows to keep the sun from beaming in, she then took the crocheted throw, which her grandmother had made, off a nearby chair and covered him. The man had earned his rest.
She couldn’t resist placing a kiss on his cheek. It was nice to have him near.
* * *
Tanner woke to the smell of something delicious. When was the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal? His mother used to prepare them in the hope his father would be home to eat them. Which had rarely happened.
Where was he? He looked at the blanket over him. Whitney’s. The entire place reflected her. Simple, floral and comfy. All the things he hadn’t had in his life until she’d come along.
Sitting up, he stretched, trying to remove the kink from his back. He’d been almost as surprised as her that he’d turned up on her doorstep. After leaving the hospital he’d just needed to see her. Whitney was like a balm to his tired spirit. Getting to his feet, he followed the smell down a hallway with a multitude of pictures on the wall. Many of them must be members of her family.
Humming, mixed with a song playing on the radio, came from the back of the house. He found Whitney standing in front of the kitchen sink. Her back was to him. Once again she wore a flowing dress but it was belted at the middle, giving her shape. The kitchen was yellow and had bright modern pictures of roosters on the walls.
He leaned against the door frame and watched her for a minute. What would it be like to come home from a hard day to this scene? Somehow life would be better just being a p
art of it.
A faster song filled the air and Whitney swung her hips to the music. She moved to the stove and must have seen him out of the corner of her eye. She turned. “Hey. Feeling better?”
He started toward her. “A little, but I’ll be a lot better after this.” Tanner pulled her to him and his mouth found hers. She briefly returned his kiss then stepped back.
Had something changed between them?
“I need to check our supper. I thought you might be hungry.”
Was that all there was to it? He wasn’t buying trouble until it came. “It smells wonderful. I’m starving. I’ve not had anything since we left the château.”
“Really? That’s not good for you.”
He liked her being concerned. “I’m used to it.”
“I guess with your profession you would be, but that doesn’t mean it’s healthy.”
“I’m sorry I had to dump you off with Security. I know that wasn’t a very gentlemanly thing to do.”
Whitney held up a hand. “Stop apologizing for that. You had a more important job to do. I’m not so incapable that I can’t take care of myself.”
She was so insecure about her body and so confident about other areas of her life. “Not everyone thinks that way.”
“Then they’re wrong. Have a seat.” She indicated the table. “The lasagna is ready.”
Tanner took a seat in front of a square wooden table already set with mismatched plates and crockery. A glass of iced tea was there as well.
Whitney brought a steaming hot casserole dish to the table and placed it on a hot pad in the middle. She went back to the stove and returned with a basket of bread. She was half seated when she jumped up. “I forgot the salads.” She hurried to the refrigerator.
She’d done all of this for him. He’d never dated anyone who showed they cared by cooking a meal. “You have gone to too much trouble. We could have gone out.”
“I like to cook and don’t eat out much.” She put the salads beside their plates and then picked up his dinner plate and started spooning a portion of lasagna onto it. Placing it in front of him, she then put a small amount on her own.