Return of the Rebel Surgeon. Connie CoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
passive girl who waited for answers to come to her.
Well, she had waited long enough.
Today she would make him listen. She would look him in the eye to make sure there was no misunderstanding and tell him he was too late. Neither she nor Adrian wanted him in their lives …
But Adrian did want his father in his life.
She stumbled over a lost pompom, almost losing her balance.
Still, she needed to protect her son from the emotional highs and lows of his father dropping in once every fourteen years or so. Adrian didn’t handle upsets well. Better to keep Cole as a fantasy superhero than a flesh-and-blood man.
Was she doing the right thing for Adrian? That was what it all came down to.
Taking a deep breath, she started the long walk toward the medical tent.
Once there, she asked the volunteer, “Have you seen …?” Why was it so hard to say his name? “Dr. Lassiter?”
The white-haired grandmother working the desk gave her a quick shake of the head. “Not today. He’s a busy one, isn’t he?” She gave Isabella a wink. “And handsome, too. If I were a few years younger, I’d be looking for him myself.”
“You’d have to stand in line,” the nurse on duty added. “In fact, I’m old enough to be his—ahem—older sister and I would catch a drink or supper with him if he asked. He’s as nice as he is beautiful.”
Isabella shoved down the absurd possessiveness that welled up in her. History proved that even when he had vowed undying love, Cole had never been hers to keep.
“When Dr. Lassiter shows up, could you page me?” Isabella felt like an overaged groupie as the two women raised their eyebrows at her. “It’s important,” she added. Even to her own ears, she sounded like a desperate woman pathetically trying to attract the attention of a rich, handsome doctor.
“Aren’t you Isabella Allante? Dr. Allante’s daughter?” the nurse asked.
Isabella nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“I worked for him right before he retired.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember …”
“Understandable. You were busy getting married and having babies.”
“Baby. Just one.”
“A boy, right? Your father was always talking about his grandson. He was so proud. Dr. Allante was a brilliant doctor and a pleasure to work for. Please give him my regards.”
“I will. He still keeps up with the progress in his field.” The subscriptions to his favorite medical journals and newsletters cost her dearly but they fed her father’s mind and spirit even though the stroke had taken away his mobility. And they gave her a chance to keep tabs on Cole—for Adrian’s sake, of course.
“I’m afraid you’ve missed out on seeing Dr. Lassiter. I still work for the sports clinic as Dr. Wong’s office nurse. Since Dr. Wong will be in surgery all day with Dr. Lassiter, he asked if I would mind working the medical tent at the games today. I understood that Dr. Lassiter was headed back to New York after that.” The nurse gave her a lighthearted grin. “A lot of us are wishing he would stay a little longer. He certainly adds something to the scenery.”
Isabella had the strongest urge to tell the nurse that Cole was more than just another pretty face. Instead, she clamped down on her own confused feelings, a mixture of relief and disappointment.
The relief came from avoiding a confrontation. No matter how direct she learned to be, she still didn’t like confrontation.
The disappointment, she told herself, was because Cole’s departure left unfinished business between them. He didn’t owe her a goodbye, although he certainly owed Adrian that and a lot more.
“Thanks for letting me know.” Did that mean he’d left without saying goodbye to his son?
Isabella tried to suppress the thought that kept popping up over and over again. Somehow, by some weird twist of fate, could it be possible Cole didn’t know Adrian was his son?
As she headed back to her volunteer post, she shrugged away that crazy notion, just like she’d shrugged it away a thousand times in the last few days.
How many messages had she left on his voicemail all those years ago? For days and weeks she’d called, trying to reach him over and over again at all hours, hoping he’d pick up the phone so she could say what she needed to say in person. She’d written to him every day until a week before the wedding, hoping the deluge of mail would break through the barrier David’s mother had built between them.
She’d thought that if she could only make him listen, she could explain that the engagement announcement to David had been none of her doing. That she had no intention of marrying anyone but him. That she carried his child.
But the letter she sent, the one she’d poured her heart into that he’d returned in pieces, had said it all.
Anger at Cole, confusion about what to do next and relief that Cole was gone and life would eventually get back to normal warred within her, making her stomach roil.
Isabella evaluated. The only action she had to take was to tell her son his father had returned to New York.
It was a discussion she dreaded more than any other conversation she’d had in her life.
Cole walked into the doctors’ lounge, soaking in the atmosphere he thrived on. The E.R. doctor snored on the couch in front of a muted television. Two other doctors consulted quietly at a side table over cups of coffee.
Successful surgeries always sent Cole Lassiter’s spirits on a soaring high.
Still, it didn’t replace the lift Cole had gotten used to for the last few days whenever he’d seen that sweet, shy smile of Bella’s son. How could a kid worm his way into his heart so fast? Was it a pseudo-affection for what might have been?
That boy should have been his.
“Glad to have you on board, Dr. Lassiter.” One of the radiologists greeted him. Cole recognized him as a radiologist contracted with the sports clinic.
“Thanks.” He held out his hand to shake. “Call me Cole.”
He wanted to explain that he wasn’t staying. He had applied for and received hospital privileges as a matter of course since that was where the sports clinic mainly practiced. But negotiations were too tenuous.
That was the excuse he gave his office administrator when he told her he needed to stay over the weekend. That was the excuse he gave himself in the light of day.
But last night, as he’d lain in his bed, he had dreamed of Bella and woken up heavily sad when he’d realized it had only been a dream.
He needed closure and he now had a few extra days in New Orleans to find it.
He sent silent thanks to his excellent office manager, who was shuffling schedules so he could steal this time for himself, a rarity in his hectic calendar.
Walking over to the kitchenette, Cole spread out his lunch of oyster po’boy sandwich and sweet iced tea, a New Orleans specialty.
“Mind if I share this table?” the radiologist asked.
“Not at all. I would enjoy the company.” And the distraction. Normally, after a complex surgery like the one he had just finished, all he could think about was the details of the procedure and the next step to recovery.
Today, he thought about her.
Cole picked up his sandwich and took a bite, letting the flavors roll around on his tongue. Yes, it was as good as he remembered—proof that New Orleans wasn’t all bad for him. He hoped this good feeling carried over into his partnership talks.
After that morning’s surgery, he was more convinced than ever that