LITMIR.BIZ

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One

      Brittany Baldwin’s stomach churned as she pulled over to the curb and parked in front of the white colonial-style house with two-story-high pillars that supported the overhang above the porch.

      It was a lovely upper-middle-class home in a historic neighborhood of Lexington, and the man she was supposed to meet here was a professor of literature at the University of Kentucky, but was she ready for this? Her first interview for her first nursing job. She’d expected to have three more years of college before actually going to work, but then…

      She shook her head as if the sharp movement could drive away the searing memories that still haunted her, then got out of the car and walked briskly up to the door. The bell chimed melodiously when pushed and the door was opened by a good-looking man of medium height with light brown hair and eyes to match behind silver-framed glasses.

      For a moment they just stood there looking at each other, each waiting for the other to speak.

      Finally he broke the silence. “Yes?”

      It was put in the form of a question, but why? Surely he was expecting her.

      “I…I’m Brittany Baldwin,” she stammered, “the medical assistant Professor Thorpe requested.”

      He blinked. “You’re the nurse I asked for?”

      “Nursing assistant,” she corrected him, “and yes, if you’re Professor Ethan Thorpe, I was told to meet you here at—” she paused and looked at her watch “—four o’clock.”

      He was still frowning at her. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

      “You could say that, yes,” he growled. “I am Ethan Thorpe, but you’d better come in while we discuss it.”

      She wondered what there was to discuss as he stood aside so she could step into the large tiled foyer that housed a wide staircase in the center and displayed a magnificent crystal chandelier suspended from the soaring ceiling.

      Brittany was impressed, but before she could comment the man had taken her arm and was ushering her into the area to the right. His hand cupping her elbow was firm but warm and smooth, and she involuntarily leaned into it, seeking its security.

      This room was a parlor furnished with beautiful antique furniture, and he led her to the settee and motioned for her to sit down. She did, reluctantly relinquishing his supporting touch, and he took a high-backed wing chair several feet away.

      “Now, Ms…. Baldwin did you say your name is?”

      “Brittany,” she murmured, and he continued. “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. I asked for a mature, well-trained and experienced woman capable of taking care of my father, who is diabetic and has difficulty with his short-term memory.”

      Brittany still didn’t understand the problem. “I admit I’m not very experienced, but I’m well trained in nursing care as I’m sure the agency told you. I can administer his shots, oversee his diet and watch him so he doesn’t wander off—”

      “How old are you?” Ethan interjected.

      “I’m…uh…I’m twenty-one, but I’m well aware of the responsibility involved in caring for my patients,” she hastily assured him. “I was studying to be a registered nurse but…”

      She bit back her ill-advised words and hoped he hadn’t caught them. She really didn’t want to get into that subject right now. It was still too painful to discuss with strangers, and besides, it had nothing to do with her nursing skills. She’d learned those at the vocational school after—

      Unfortunately his hearing was keen and so was his curiosity. “Brittany? You were saying…?”

      “Oh, nothing,” she replied, groping for a way out. “It really doesn’t apply to this situation.”

      He leaned back in his chair and captured her gaze. The lenses of his glasses weren’t very thick, and she could see the flecks of gold in his brown pupils behind them. The metal frames were circular and softened the wideness of his cheekbones and the squareness of his jaw. He looked to be in his early or mid-thirties, and was a very handsome man in a quiet sort of way.

      “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” he suggested softly but with a hint of determination that would not be denied.

      Oh well, this was, after all, an interview for a job. He had a right to ask questions, and if she wanted the position she’d better answer them. She just hoped she could get through it without breaking down!

      She twined her hands in her lap and leaned forward as she began. “Last year I completed my first year at the university. I was working for a degree in nursing, but then in August my…”

      Her voice shook and she swallowed. “…my parents were killed in a boating accident.”

      He sat bolt upright in his chair. “Oh, look, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I didn’t mean to put you through this….”

      She held up her hand. “No, please, it’s something I have to learn to live with.”

      With her fingertips she dabbed at the unwelcome tears that had formed in her eyes. “When the estate was settled I learned they had been living beyond their means for years and were on the verge of bankruptcy. All I managed to salvage was Mom’s car, which by some miracle was paid for, and enough money to enroll in the medical assistant’s program at the career vocational school here in town.”

      She took a deep breath. “It was a ten-month course and I graduated last week. This is my first job interview.”

      “But surely you have relatives,” he muttered.

      She shook her head. “Not unless you count two second cousins living in California whom I haven’t seen in almost ten years. I have no brothers or sisters, aunts or uncles.”

      “Well I have to admit you come highly recommended by your school,” he said, “but you’re so young. And so fragile.”

      Brittany couldn’t help it, she laughed. “There’s not much I can do about the ‘young’ part, but ‘fragile’? Professor Thorpe, I’m five feet six inches tall and weigh one-hundred-thirty pounds. I’ve also had strength training and my body is very well toned.”

      Ethan grinned. “Don’t underestimate my dad. He’s over six feet tall, slimmer now than he used to be, but still tips the scales at close to two hundred pounds, and makes up in just plain wiliness for what he may have lost in muscle power.”

      The cool reserve between the two of them had been broken, and they sat back and relaxed. “Tell me a little about your father,” Brittany said. “I understand he’s retired now, but what did he do for a living? How many children does he have? What about your mother? That type of thing.”

      She knew she was assuming a lot here, asking questions like that before she’d even been hired, but she really wanted this job and she wasn’t going to make it easy for the professor to send her away if his only objection to her was her age.

      “You want to know what my dad used to do for a living?” Ethan inquired. “He spent forty years as a heavy-equipment repairer. He’s got muscles you never heard of, and most of them are still fully operational even though he doesn’t exercise much anymore. You’d have a time controlling him if he didn’t want to be controlled. Fortunately, he’s even-tempered and he’d die before he’d ever touch a woman in anger.”

      “Then we don’t have to worry about my strength or lack of it, do we,” she said sweetly with a touch of sarcasm.

      “But it’s not your well being I’m worried about,” Ethan replied. “He sometimes loses his balance and falls. Are you strong enough to help him get up and patient enough to give him constant attention? He tends to get confused and wanders away if not supervised.”

      “It’s almost impossible for any one person to lift a patient who can’t help himself,” she told him,

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