NYC Angels: Tempting Nurse Scarlet (3 page)

Jessie hadn’t said more than a handful of words—all of them monosyllabic—to him since they’d left the hospital, even after he’d insisted they eat their takeout grilled chicken Caesar salads together in the kitchen for a change. What an uncomfortable meal that’d been. Jessie, staring down at her plate, moving the chicken around with her fork. Lewis, trying to engage her in conversation, to offer reassurance about her trip to Lake George, to find out more about her relationship with Scarlet Miller, and, for the hundredth time, to gain some insight into the functioning of the pre-pubescent female mind. A booby-trapped labyrinth of erratic and illogical thought processes he could not seem to navigate through, despite successful completion of several child psychology classes and licensure as a pediatrician.

After nine arduous months of trying, and failing his
daughter at every crisis, Lewis gave in to the cold, hard fact: He could not do it alone.

And yet again, an image of Scarlet Miller popped into his head. A pretty yet unfriendly woman and a skilled professional, who, he’d found out on further inquiry, received high praise and much respect from her peers and upper management. But at the moment, all that mattered to him was her relationship with his daughter.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the slip of paper he’d stashed there earlier, and glanced at his watch. A few minutes after eleven o’clock.

It was too late to call, but his need to talk to her, to get answers and beg for her assistance overrode common phone etiquette. After hours and hours spent considering his options, Lewis had come to the conclusion Scarlet Miller was his key to deciphering Jessie’s passive-aggressive behavior and learning her secrets, to understanding her and starting a productive dialogue between them, so he could help her, so he could, please God, find something about her to love.

Lewis picked up his phone and dialed.

After a few rings a groggy female voice answered, “Hello?”

Great, he’d woke her up. And the last thing he wanted to do was anger his best hope for achieving a healthy, positive relationship with his daughter. He cleared his throat. “Hi. It’s Lewis.”

“I’m sorry. You have the wrong number.”

“Wait. Is this Scarlet Miller?” he rushed to ask before she disconnected the call, and before it registered that if she hung up, she’d never know he was the inconsiderate louse who’d woken her. Well…unless she had caller ID. Then he’d no doubt come off looking even worse.

“Yes,” she answered.

“It’s me. Lewis Jackson. Jessie’s dad.”

“Is she okay?” Scarlet sounded instantly awake. “Did something happen?”

Lewis liked and appreciated her concern for his daughter. “No, she’s fine. Upstairs asleep.” At least as far as he knew. And since he’d learned the hard way never to assume Jessie was where she was supposed to be, Lewis walked to the doorway, poked his head into the hallway to confirm it was indeed eavesdropper-free, then closed and locked his bedroom door, just in case it didn’t stay that way.

“How did you get this number?” Scarlet asked. “I’m sure I didn’t give it to you. And I doubt Jessie would have shared it.”

Okay, time for some fast talking. “I just happened to come across the card you’d given to Jessie,” after searching for it in her backpack and pocketbook while she was in the shower—bad, reprehensible father—“while checking her plethora of pockets before putting her pants in the wash,” he lied. “I took it as a sign I should call you.”

Silence.

“Hello?” he asked.

She let out a decidedly feminine, sultry sounding moan which made him question, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.” She did it again. “I don’t typically talk on the phone when I’m in bed. I’m trying to find a comfortable position.”

And just like that, with the mere mention she was in bed, without-sex-for-nine-long-months-brain overtook concerned-father-brain with an enticing visual of her luscious body. A comfortable position came
to mind. Scarlet spread out on top of satin sheets. Naked. Waiting.

His sex-starved body went hard.

“Soooo,
you
called me,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

A loaded question if ever there was one. Because right this instant he wanted her to talk dirty, to touch herself and tell him all about it, to describe her aroused nipples and slick… Lord help him. Prolonged abstinence had effectively eradicated his ability to engage in casual nighttime conversation with a woman. From bedroom to bedroom. And if he took a few small steps, from bed to bed. And from out of nowhere, the idea of phone sex popped into his head.

“Hello. Everything okay over there?”

Totally disgusted with himself, Lewis rubbed his hand over his face and let out a breath. “A bad day followed by a bad night combined with a non-existent sex life since my daughter came to live with me and I am conjuring up totally inappropriate visuals of you, a woman I have known for less than twenty-four hours, at the simple mention of you getting comfortable in bed. In my defense, you were making some very sexy noises a moment ago, so I hold you partly responsible. But I assure you, when I picked up the phone to make this call my intentions were purely G-rated.”

“And now what are they?” she teased.

“Let’s just say, the next time you see me you owe me a slap across the face, because I totally deserve it.”

Turned out she had a sexy laugh, too.

He shifted in the recliner to relieve some of the pressure in his pants. Not good. Scarlet Miller was not the woman to slake his lust. He needed her to fix things between him and Jessie and would not risk anything
interfering with his top priority. “Please accept my sincerest apologies.”

“Accepted, but not necessary,” she said. “For the record, you could pass for sexy on the phone, too.”

“You are not helping.”

“Do you want to know what I’m wearing?” she taunted him.

“Absolutely not,” he lied.

“I could—”

“Stop it.”

“Fine,” she said. “But you started it.”

“And I’m going to finish it.” Only because someone had to. “I called to talk about Jessie. To try to sweet talk you into sharing some more helpful hints on improving communication between us, because the direct approach is not working.”

“Too bad. That’s the closest I’ve ever come to having phone sex.”

Did he detect a hint of disappointment? “Oddly enough, me, too,” he admitted. And why did he feel so comfortable sharing that tidbit with a woman he hardly knew?

“You know you’re putting me in a tough spot,” Scarlet said, her voice serious. “I can’t betray things Jessie has told me in confidence. She really needs a friend to talk to, and right now I’m it. It took me a long time to get her to open up.”

He wanted to ask how she’d managed that, but decided to start with, “Would you at least tell me how you met?”

She took so long to answer Lewis had started to worry she wouldn’t.

“That I can do.” It sounded like she repositioned herself in bed. Again. “I work late on Tuesdays and Thursdays
to spend some time with my night staff. So I take a break at three.”

“Right around when I send Jessie down to get a snack after school.”

“The cafeteria isn’t usually busy at that time so I noticed her, always sitting there by herself with that ‘don’t talk to me’ look.”

Lewis hated that look.

“I saw a lot of my thirteen-year-old self in Jessie. Mad at the world. Too much time alone and unsupervised. Do you honestly think she’s safe wandering around alone in a city hospital for hours waiting for you to get off work?”

Lewis did not appreciate the censure in her tone. She had no idea how hard he’d tried. “That was her doing not mine. I told her what would happen if she made one more babysitter quit. And she’s not supposed to be wandering around alone,” he pointed out maybe a little too forcefully
. Calm it down
. “She’s supposed to be in my office doing her homework.” Except his little Houdini always managed to sneak out without anyone seeing then show up hours later when it was time to go home. “What do you suggest I do? Let her stay at my condo all alone until I get home, like she’d prefer? Maybe some thirteen-year-olds are ready for that. But in my opinion Jessie isn’t.” And his opinion was the one that mattered.

“I agree,” Scarlet said, surprising him. “But it’s a moot point since I’ve got her spending her afternoons up in the NICU wing now.”

“Where?” Why?

“We have a family lounge. It’s geared towards the siblings of our babies who are often overlooked while their parents focus their attention on their sick infant. So we made them a special place with video games,
toys, computers to do their homework, a television and a kid-friendly library that holds everything from picture books to young adult novels. Jessie comes up to read every afternoon.”

Jessie liked to read? They actually had something in common? Yet in the nine months she’d been living with him he’d never seen her with a book.

“I’m sorry. I assumed she told you.”

“Aside from mostly no’s and the occasional yes, she hardly speaks to me. I do get a lot of shrugs, exasperated breaths and eye rolls, though. And when she does surprise me with a full sentence, it’s usually to tell me how much she hates me, that she knows I don’t want her, or that she wishes I’d died instead of her mother.” Then he’d rather she’d just stayed quiet.

“She has a lot of anger.”

Rightly so. But, “It’s been nine months. Shouldn’t it be dissipating a bit by now?”

“If only time was all she needed.”

“Tell me what she needs. I’ll do anything.”

Silence.

“Please,” Lewis said. “If you want me to beg, I will.” He slid to the edge of the recliner, fully prepared to drop to his knees. “I am that desperate.”

Silence.

Lewis started to lose hope that Scarlet would be the panacea he needed.

Then she spoke. “If you can slip up to the NICU family lounge around four o’clock tomorrow you’ll see a different side of Jessie. One that I’m sure will make you proud.”

An opportunity he would not miss. “I’ll be there.”

“She can’t know I told you. Say you came up to check on baby Joey, and my staff told you where to find me.”

“Will do.”

“I’m giving you an opportunity for a positive interaction with your daughter, Lewis. Don’t screw it up.”

A
T THREE-THIRTY
on Wednesday afternoon, washed up and gowned, Scarlet opened Joey’s incubator. The baby refused to suck so Dr. Donaldson had placed a naso- gastric tube for feeding. “Hey there, you sweet little girl,” she said softly so as not to startle her. Joey blinked her eyes and stretched in response to Scarlet’s voice.

Good.

Scarlet pressed her index finger against the baby’s tiny palm so she could grab onto it. “I promised your mommy I’d take good care of you.” A promise she intended to keep. She repositioned her many tubes and carefully wrapped her in a baby blanket. “We need to get you drinking from a bottle so you can grow up big and strong.” She lifted her and slowly moved to the rocker two steps away, careful not to pull on the many lines connected to her.

Once situated, she began to rock. Joey made a contented little moan and cuddled into her. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she warned and picked up the little bottle beside her. “We’ve got some work to do.”

Since taking on a management role, Scarlet missed providing direct care to the NICU’s tiny patients. “Open up.” She rubbed the special nipple along Joey’s bottom lip and squeezed out a drop of formula.

So far the NICU social worker hadn’t been able to come up with any information on Holly. Police were reviewing missing persons reports and Holly’s post mortem picture had been faxed to OB/GYN offices, prenatal clinics and schools within a thirty mile radius of the hospital. Scarlet couldn’t help wondering why Holly didn’t want her family to know about the baby. For fear of their reaction to her pregnancy? Shame? Scarlet could relate. But what if there was more? What if her home environment wasn’t safe for her baby? If her parents were unfit to raise a child, like Scarlet’s had been? Or if someone abusive would have access to the baby?

And what if Holly was never identified and her family never found? What then? Joey would wind up in an over-burdened, flawed child welfare system. Helpless and vulnerable.

Promise me she’ll be okay. Promise me you’ll find her a good home
. A dead mother’s final plea to Scarlet, who had absolutely no control over Joey’s placement.

Unless she sought to adopt her.

An absurd notion, considering Scarlet didn’t spend enough time at home to keep a pet alive. How could she work the hours she did and effectively care for an infant? The question that’d been weighing on her mind for months as her biological clock beat out the second by second withering of her reproductive organs.

Baby Joey fell asleep in her arms and Scarlet savored a few minutes of peace in the darkened quiet room, loving the feel of Joey in her arms. Like she did every time she held a NICU patient, she tried to convince herself. But no, it was different with Joey, maybe because Joey’s mom had entrusted her daughter to Scarlet. Maybe because Holly reminded her so much of herself,
and Joey, now all alone in the world, had wound up like Scarlet’s baby when she’d been purposely chemically incapacitated.

Regardless, Scarlet had a vested interest in Joey and would do whatever she could to assure the child a bright, happy and safe future.

Grandma Sadie, one of their volunteer cuddlers, came in to Joey’s room and whispered, “Linda told me to come relieve you.”

Grandma Sadie had been in Scarlet’s first volunteer cuddler orientation class, back when she’d implemented the program four years ago. Research showed preemies benefited from human touch and interaction. And cuddlers filled the gap when exhausted parents needed a break, or when babies, like Joey, had no family to love them.

She glanced at her watch. “Perfect timing.” Since she had to get over to the family lounge before Lewis arrived.

Scarlet busied herself by re-shelving books and putting away toys. Then she spoke with a few moms sitting at a table in the back of the room, enjoying a rest and some coffee while Jessie held ‘story time’ to occupy their five little girls who ranged in age from two to five. They sat in a circle on the floor, each taking a turn in Jessie’s lap while she read their selection.

When Lewis entered the room, Scarlet motioned for him to be quiet and come to stand beside her.

So engrossed in her task, Jessie didn’t notice his arrival as she made an exaggerated honking noise that sent the little girls into a pile of gigglers.

Lewis watched his daughter, his face a mix of awe and disbelief.

“Jessie holds ‘story time’ around four o’clock every afternoon,” she whispered. “The moms meet up for a few precious minutes of adult conversation, while your daughter gives each of their children some special attention.” Scarlet looked up at him. “She’s really something special.”

Jessie finished one book and, with a big smile on her face, accepted a kiss on the cheek from the girl in her lap. Then the circle shifted, the next little girl climbed in her lap and she began to read again.

“I can’t believe it,” Lewis whispered, his eyes locked on Jessie. “She’s actually smiling.”

“She has a beautiful smile,” Scarlet pointed out.

Lewis turned to her. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen it.”

“Dad,” Jessie walked up beside them. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Lewis said. “I came up to check on the baby born in the ER yesterday, and the secretary at the desk told me I’d find Scarlet in here.”

Good man, very convincing.

Jessie stood defiant, ready to do battle. “If you’re going to yell at me please do it outside. I don’t want to upset the girls.” Who sat watching Jessie, still in a circle, awaiting her return.

Lewis went rigid. “Why do you think I’m going to yell?”

“Because you always yell.”

Lewis looked close to lashing out so Scarlet touched his arm to stop him. “Always is one of those words you need to use carefully,” Scarlet cautioned Jessie. “It’s rare someone
always
does something.”

“You don’t know my dad,” Jessie replied with an eye roll, and Scarlet couldn’t keep from smiling.

“If I was going to say anything,” Lewis said. “It’d be how nice it was to see you smiling for a change, and how proud I am to know you’re spending your time helping out here.”

Jessie looked stunned.

One of the moms came over. “Is this your dad?” she asked Jessie who nodded hesitantly as if embarrassed.

The woman put her arm around Jessie’s shoulders. “You have a gem of a daughter.” She looked in the direction of Lewis’s name badge and added, “Dr. Jackson. You’ve done a wonderful job with her.”

Lewis answered, “Thank you.” Then he turned to look at Jessie. “I wish I could take the credit, but it was all her mother.”

Jessie ran from the room.

Lewis and Scarlet caught up with her by the elevators and she turned on her father. “Why are you being so nice?” Jessie asked her voice full of accusation. “You hated my mom, and you hate me.”

A couple exited the elevator, avoiding eye contact as they passed by.

“Honey, I have never hated your mother, and I don’t hate you,” Lewis said, impressing Scarlet with his calm. “I let my anger and disappointment at having to pick you up at the police station get the better of me yesterday, and I am deeply sorry for what I said.”

Jessie stood there, her arms crossed tightly over her mid-section, looking down at the ground.

“Now that I know where you’re spending your afternoons, I can stop worrying,” Lewis said quietly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Jessie offered, still not looking up.

It was a start. But with the Memorial Day weekend of doom fast approaching, was it enough to get Lewis and Jessie talking about what they needed to talk about? Probably not. Which meant Scarlet had to figure out a way to intercede without Jessie finding out.

Later that night, after spending more time thinking about Lewis and his daughter than sleeping, Scarlet settled on what she’d do. Of course it’d taken until well after midnight to finally make up her mind—the reason she sat in the far corner of the mostly deserted hospital cafeteria hours before her lunch break, waiting for Lewis.

He walked in and went directly to the coffee dispensers, giving Scarlet time to play voyeur, watching from afar, admiring his long legs, short hair, and good looks. The man made basic green scrubs look like upscale attire. Clean and neatly pressed. And dare she add, pleasingly filled out.

No wonder she’d heard his name bandied about by so many of her single co-workers.

She skimmed up his legs, to his narrow waist and wide chest, to his smiling face, to his eyes staring straight at her.

Busted
.

She smiled back and waved.

He paid the cashier and headed toward her. “You like what you see?” he asked with the cocky smile of a man who knew he looked good, pulling out the chair across from her at the small, two-person table along the wall.

“Actually,” she took a sip of coffee, playing it cool. “Just pondering the age old question of boxers or briefs.”

He leaned in close.

She added straight white teeth, clean shaven, and a
hint of expensive cologne to his growing list of unsettlingly pleasing attributes.

“Use your imagination,” he whispered.

Oh he did not want her to go there. Too late. She closed her eyes and pretended to imagine his naked form with various undergarments. Okay. So she didn’t totally pretend. When she opened her eyes to find him studying her, she flashed her sweetest smile and said, “Commando it is.”

He laughed out loud.

“Suffice it to say, I no longer owe you a slap across the face.” She blew out a breath and fanned herself. “We are now even.” Come to find out he had a beautiful smile, so much like Jessie’s.

“You make me forget I’m the father of an impressionable teenage girl.”

“You know being a parent does not sentence you to a life of celibacy. Why don’t you pull up your date book and call one of your five star babes to take the edge off. It’ll calm you down. I’m happy to take Jess to dinner and a movie.” She smiled back. “Your treat, of course.”

He rested his elbows on the table and leaned in close. “Why is it we never met
before
Jessie came into my life?”

Oh that was easy. “Probably because I don’t dress to attract male attention, my boobs don’t enter a room before I do, and I’ve never gone to O’Malley’s after work intent on finding a sexy doctor to go home with.” And she had a brain and self-respect and stayed away from men who didn’t put any effort into getting to know a woman before making a play to get her into bed.

His smile grew even bigger. “You think I’m sexy?”

And full of himself. “Based on your reputation, I think it’s safe to say certain women find you sexy. Or
else they simply put up with you in a desperate attempt to snag themselves a doctor husband.” She shrugged. “It’s a discussion for another day.” She looked at her watch. “Unless you’d like to continue rather than talk about Jessie, who is the reason I asked you to meet me here. Your choice. I’ve got rounds with the neonatologist in fifteen minutes.”

That knocked the cocky grin from his lips.

Good.

“What can you tell me about Jessie’s mom?” she asked, hoping to get him to figure out Jessie’s issues on his own, so she could avoid having to come right out and tell him.

He took a sip of coffee before answering. “There’s not much to tell. She was a barista at a coffee shop around the corner from my medical school. We dated a few times, and by dated,” he looked at her pointedly without apology or regret, “I really mean got together for sex. When she put pressure on me to spend more time with her, we fought. She became a distraction so I broke it off,” he said matter-of-factly. “I needed to focus on my studies. So I found another coffee shop and she, according to a ranting message left on my answering machine, found a man who appreciated her—likely one more easily manipulated by her histrionics. After that I never saw, spoke with, or to be honest, thought about her again until I received a call from her attorney nine months ago informing me she’d died and I had a twelve-year-old daughter.”

The news of his situation had spread through the hospital like pink eye in a room full of toddlers. “That must have come as quite a shock.”

“You have no idea.”

At age sixteen she’d found out she was pregnant and
had no recollection of having sex. At seventeen she’d given birth only to wake up to find her baby gone. She had some idea.

“Well this entire Lake George vacation mess could have been avoided if you’d taken the time to get to know Jessie’s mother before you slept with her.”

“Trust me,” he said. “If I’d have taken the time to get to know her, I would not have slept with her.”

For some reason that struck her as funny.

“Enjoying this are you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Okay. Maybe a little. But moving on.” Since plan A didn’t work, time to move on to plan B. “Let’s play doctor.”

He looked around then leaned in and whispered. “To do the game justice we’ll need some privacy.”

“You are unbelievable,” Scarlet reprimanded him. “I am trying to clue you in to Jessie’s fears about Lake George. But maybe it’s not as important to you as I’d thought. And since there are plenty of more important things I could be doing.” She pushed back her chair.

“Wait.” He grabbed her hand to stop her from standing. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere. “I can’t help it. There’s something about you.” He studied her as if trying to figure out what. “I’ll behave. I promise.” He held up his right hand, as if that made his words more believable.

“Okay, then.” Scarlet slid her chair back under the table. “You’re the doctor. I’m going to tell you a hypothetical situation and you’re going to tell me what you think.”

“Hypothetical,” he clarified with a tilt of his head and one raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” She nodded. “Purely hypothetical.”

“Got it.”

“A woman has a near-death drowning experience as a little girl and grows up with a crippling fear of the water. She has a daughter. The daughter grows up under the mother’s watchful eye, never allowed in the ocean, a lake or a swimming pool, and therefore never given the opportunity to learn how to swim. Do you think it’s reasonable to assume the daughter may also develop a fear of water?”