Enticed By The Operative. Lara LacombeЧитать онлайн книгу.
and made it a point to get together twice a year to catch up. Olivia looked forward to their biannual trips all year, and she knew Avery and Mallory felt the same way.
“I hear you. I bet Mallory is, too.”
“Are you kidding me? She’s a doctor on a cruise ship, for crying out loud! Her whole life is a vacation.”
“Jealous, much?”
“Yes.” Avery didn’t bother to deny it, which made Olivia smile.
“You get to travel for your job,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but not to any fun locations. I’m leaving tomorrow for a small town in Kansas. Apparently there’s some kind of respiratory thing going on there.”
“Kansas is nice,” Olivia pointed out. “Lots of friendly people.”
“But no ocean view,” Avery grumbled.
“Well, no. But there’s more to life than salt water.”
“Says the woman going to Colombia in a few weeks.”
“Hey, I’d love for you to join me. We could always use another pair of hands down there.”
“I wish I could go,” Avery said wistfully. “But I’m not a surgeon like you. I’ve spent too many years holed up in my office at the CDC—my clinical skills aren’t what they used to be. I wouldn’t be much help for you.”
“You’d be surprised,” Olivia replied. “If you remember how to do a physical, you’re halfway there. The need for basic medical care is so great, anything is better than nothing. Just think about it,” she added. “Colombia is beautiful, and it would be a great experience for you.”
Avery was silent for a moment. “I’ll sleep on it,” she said, a note of interest in her voice. “Maybe I could finagle the time off.”
A spark of excitement flared to life in Olivia’s stomach. Having one of her best friends come on her annual charity trip would be wonderful. It would be great to spend the time with Avery, and more important, having another clinician on site would really increase the number of patients they could treat during their stay. She opened her mouth to tell Avery as much when the intercom on her desk buzzed to life.
“Dr. Sandoval? Your next patient is here.”
“And that’s my cue,” Avery spoke into her ear. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Sounds good. Have a safe trip.”
Olivia hung up and pressed the button on her desk. “Thanks, Carrie. Please send him in.”
“Sure thing.”
She stood, running her hand down the front of her blouse to smooth out the wrinkles. As a plastic surgeon, appearances mattered. She had to project confidence and competence, especially for a first meeting. Patients needed to see her as a calm, composed figure who could help transform their physical imperfections into assets. One of the first things they did was judge her own appearance, so she was always careful to make sure her hair and makeup looked good before every meeting.
A soft knock announced her patient’s arrival. She opened the door with a smile, ushering the man in and taking his file from Carrie, the office assistant. “Thank you,” she said softly to the other woman.
Olivia glanced at the chart before turning her attention to the man who had entered her office. Carlos Martinez. Her gaze tracked over his face as she gestured for him to take a seat. He was a few inches shorter than her, but he carried himself well. His eyes were clear and dark, and silver strands threaded through his black hair, lending him an air of sophistication. His skin had lost some elasticity due to age, and there were fine wrinkles fanning from the corners of his eyes and mouth. Face-lift, she thought automatically. A little pulling, a little stretching, and he’d look ten years younger in no time. And maybe a nose job, she added, focusing on the slight angle to his nose that hinted of a long-ago break that hadn’t healed properly.
She glanced at his body, wondering if he wanted some kind of liposuction, as well. He looked trim, but she knew from experience that a well-tailored suit like the one he was sporting could hide a multitude of sins.
“Mr. Martinez, I’m Dr. Sandoval.” She smiled as she extended her hand. His grip was firm but not painful.
“Nice to meet you.” His words carried a soft, lilting accent that told her English was not his first language. It reminded her of her father’s speech, the rolled r’s that sounded almost like a purr, the way his words strung together in a smooth rhythm. She was half-tempted to respond in Spanish, but decided against it. Spanish was the language of her family, the language of home. English helped her remember this was a business meeting and she had to keep things professional.
Olivia rounded her desk and sat, opening his file to a blank page so she could take notes. She liked to spend the first meeting talking to her patients, getting to know them and listening to what they wanted to change about their bodies. It was important that she keep their expectations realistic, especially from the beginning. A lot of people walked into her office looking like an average Joe and wanted to walk out looking like a supermodel. And although Olivia was very good at her job, some things were just not possible.
Although she didn’t love performing cosmetic procedures, it paid her bills and allowed her the freedom to pursue her true passion—helping those who truly needed plastic surgery to live a normal life. The burn patients, the children with cleft palates, the women who had suffered severe facial damage at the hands of abusive partners. She was lucky to have found a practice that allowed her to take on a lot of pro-bono work, and even better, they didn’t bat an eye when she took a month off every year to do charity work in Colombia.
She was really looking forward to her upcoming trip, but right now she needed to focus on the patient in front of her.
“What brings you to my office, Mr. Martinez?”
“I have business proposition for you.”
She lifted a brow at his unexpected reply. “I’m sorry, I thought you were here as a patient.” Had Carrie gotten her appointments mixed up? The office manager usually ran a tight ship, but everyone made mistakes.
Mr. Martinez waved a hand, as if the misunderstanding were of no consequence. “I didn’t specify when I made the appointment. I simply needed to see you.”
“Oh?” This was highly unorthodox. Olivia usually didn’t meet with potential business partners on her own—that was something all the members of the practice did together, to ensure everyone had equal input on decisions that might affect them all. “Can we reschedule this meeting so the other doctors can hear your proposal? That’s generally how we do things here.”
“There is no need,” Mr. Martinez replied smoothly. “This proposal is for your ears only.”
That was unusual. Olivia had joined the office five years ago, but she was far from being the senior doctor on staff. What could this man possibly want with her?
“All right,” she said, deciding to hear him out. His eyes held a glint that told her he was determined to say his piece. Better to listen and usher him out the door as quickly as possible so she could get on with her day.
“I understand you travel to Colombia every year, and spend a month doing pro bono work there.”
“Yes.” She leaned forward, excitement making her fingertips tingle. Did he want to donate? The medical charity she partnered with was always in need of funds for supplies, and the more money they raised, the more patients they could treat in Colombia and elsewhere in the world. The need for their services seemed to grow every year, a fact that broke her heart. “Are you interested in making a contribution?” It was a bold question, but subtlety had never been Olivia’s strong suit, especially when children in need were concerned.
“In a manner of speaking.” He spread his hands out, palms up, as if to say I’m a reasonable man.
“I