Hers For One Night Only?. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.
I was thinking of him more for you.’
‘Liar. From what you’ve told me about Dominic, he’s not the relationship kind.’
‘Well, he must have been at some point—he was engaged before he came to Melbourne. Mind you, he wouldn’t do for you at all. He hardly speaks. He’s quite arrogant really,’ Jasmine mused. ‘Anyway, enough about all that. Look at you.’ She smiled at her friend in the mirror. ‘Gorgeous, single, no commitments…You’re allowed to have fun, you know.’
Except Bridgette did have commitments, even if no one could really understand them. It was those commitments that had her double-check that she had her phone in her bag. She didn’t feel completely single—more she felt like a single mum with her child away on an access visit. Courtney and Harry had lived with her for a year and it had ended badly, and though she spoke little to Courtney now, she was an extremely regular babysitter.
She missed him tonight.
But, she reminded herself, he wasn’t hers to miss.
Still, it was nice to be out and to catch up with everyone. They all put in some money for drinks, but unfortunately it was Jasmine who chose the wine and it was certainly a case of quantity over quality. Bridgette took a sip—she was far from a wine snob, but it really was awful and she sat on one drink all night.
‘When are you coming back to us?’ was the cry from her ex-colleagues.
‘I’m not sure,’ Bridgette responded. ‘Soon, I hope.’
Yes, it was a good night; it just wasn’t the same as it once had been.
She wasn’t one of them any more.
She had no idea who they were talking about when they moaned about someone called Rita—how she took over in a birth, how much her voice grated. There had been a big drama last week apparently, which they were now discussing, of which Bridgette knew nothing. Slipping her phone out of her bag, she checked it, relieved to see that there were no calls, but even though she wasn’t needed, even though she had nowhere else to be right now, the night was over for her.
She wasn’t a midwife any more, or at best she was an occasional one—she went wherever the agency sent her. Bridgette was about to say goodbye to Jasmine, to make a discreet exit, when she was thwarted by some late arrivals, whom Jasmine marched her over to, insisting that she say hello.
‘This is Rita, the new unit manager.’ Jasmine introduced the two women. ‘And, Rita, this is Bridgette Joyce. She used to work with us. We’re trying to persuade her to come back. And this is…’ He really needed no introduction, because Bridgette looked over and fell into very black eyes. The man stood apart from the rest and looked a bit out of place in the rather tacky bar, and, yes, he was as completely stunning as Jasmine had described. His black hair was worn just a little bit long and swept backwards to reveal a face that was exquisite. He was tall, slim and wearing black trousers and a fitted white shirt. He was, quite simply, divine. ‘This is Dominic,’ Jasmine introduced, ‘our locum paediatrician.’
He didn’t look like a paediatrician—oh, she knew she shouldn’t label people so, but as he nodded and said hello he didn’t look in the least like a man who was used to dealing with children. Jasmine was right—he should be on a soap, playing the part of a pretend doctor, or…She imagined him more a surgeon, a cosmetic surgeon perhaps, at some exclusive private practice.
‘Can I get anyone a drink?’ He was very smooth and polite, and there was no hint of an accent, but with such dark looks she wondered if his forebears were Italian perhaps, maybe Greek. He must have caught her staring, and when he saw that she didn’t have a glass, he spoke directly to her. ‘Bridgette, can I get you anything?’
‘Not for me, thanks, I’m—’ She was just about to say that she was leaving when Jasmine interrupted her.
‘You don’t need to buy a drink, Dominic. We’ve got loads.’ Jasmine toddled over to their loud table and poured him a glass of vinegary wine and one for Bridgette too, and then handed them over. ‘Come on.’ Jasmine pushed, determined her friend would unwind. ‘Drink up, Bridgette.’
He was terribly polite because he accepted it graciously and took a sip of the drink and managed not to wince. But as Bridgette took a tiny sip, she did catch his eye, and there was a hint of a shared smile, if it could even be called that.
‘It’s good that you could make it, Dominic.’ Vince came over. He had just today finished his paediatric rotation, and Bridgette had worked with him on Maternity for a while before she’d left. ‘I know that it hasn’t been a great day.’
She watched as Dominic gave a brief nod, gave practically nothing back to that line of conversation—instead, he changed the subject. ‘So,’ he asked, ‘when do you fly?’
‘Monday night,’ Vince said, and spoke a little about the project he was joining.
‘Well,’ said Dominic, ‘all the best with it.’
He really didn’t waste words, did he? Bridgette thought as Jasmine polished her cupid’s bow and happily took Vince’s hand and wandered off, leaving Bridgette alone with him and trying not to show just how awkward she felt.
‘Careful,’ she said as his glass moved to his lips. ‘Remember how bad it tastes.’
She was rewarded with the glimpse of a smile.
‘Do you want me to get you something else?’
Yikes, she hadn’t been fishing for drinks. ‘No, no…’ Bridgette shook her head. ‘Jasmine would be offended. I’m fine. I was just…’ Joking, she didn’t add, trying to make conversation. Gorgeous he might be to look at but he really didn’t say very much. ‘You’re at the hospital, then?’ Bridgette asked.
‘Just as a fill-in,’ Dominic said. ‘I’ve got a consultant’s position starting in a couple of weeks in Sydney.’ He named a rather impressive hospital and that just about summed him up, Bridgette decided—rather impressive and very, very temporary.
‘Your family is there?’
‘That’s right,’ he said, but didn’t elaborate. ‘You work on Maternity?’ Dominic frowned, because he couldn’t place her.
‘I used to,’ Bridgette explained. ‘I left six months ago. I’ve been doing agency…’
‘Why?’
It was a very direct question, one she wasn’t quite expecting, one she wasn’t really sure how to answer.
‘The hours are more flexible,’ she said, ‘the money’s better…’ And it was the truth, but only a shred of it, because she missed her old job very badly. She’d just been accepted as a clinical nurse specialist when she’d left. She adored everything about midwifery, and now she went wherever the agency sent her. As she was qualified as a general nurse, she could find herself in nursing homes, on spinal units, sometimes in psych. She just worked and got on with it, but she missed doing what she loved the most.
He really didn’t need to hear it, so back on went the smile she’d been wearing all night. ‘And it means that I get to go out on a Saturday night.’ The moment she said them, she wanted those words back, wished she could retrieve them. She knew that she sounded like some sort of party girl, especially with what came next.
‘I can see it has benefits,’ Dominic said, and she swore he glanced down at the hand that was holding the glass, and for a dizzy moment she realised she was being appraised. ‘If you have a young family.’
‘Er, no.’ Oh, help, she was being appraised. He was looking at her, the same way she might look at shoes in a window and tick off her mental list of preferences—too flat, too high, nice colour, shame about the bow. Wrong girl, she wanted to say to him, I’m lace-up-shoe boring.
‘You don’t have children?’
‘No,’ she said, and something twisted