LITMIR.BIZ

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when the usually bashful Dr. Rattigan cleared his throat loudly. “While everybody’s here, I have an announcement.”

      The conversations died down. Amber and Tiffany stopped joking with their father, and Jack froze, as if fearing Cole might hand out the office suites willy-nilly.

      “This won’t be officially announced until tomorrow, but I believe that Luke’s family and friends ought to hear it first.” Cole was the only person Zady knew who referred to Lucky by his formal name. “He’s being promoted to director of nursing for the men’s fertility program.”

      Cheers broke out. “Way to go!” and “Well deserved!” flew through the air. Zora rushed to hug her husband, and Betsy—director of nursing for the hospital staff—called congratulations to her newly elevated colleague.

      Lucky started to speak but had to try several times before the words flowed. “I can’t tell you how much this honor means to me. It’s been a long haul for a guy who started his career as a security guard and an ambulance driver. To have Cole Rattigan believe in me is a dream come true.”

      “We all believe in you,” Karen called.

      “Don’t overdo it,” Rod declared. “He still has to wash dishes later.”

      Encouraged by his friends, Lucky clasped his hands in a victory salute. On his right arm, a tattooed dragon wriggled menacingly. On the left, a cartoon woman whose armor emphasized her physical bounty waved her sword at the beast.

      “Dare we hope he’ll get those ugly tats removed?” Marshall muttered so low that Zady doubted anyone else heard.

      Don’t you realize he’s my brother-in-law? Although she wasn’t crazy about the tattoos, either, the remark struck her as inappropriate at a moment when they were celebrating Lucky’s achievement.

      She recalled Nick’s comment about Marshall’s privileged upbringing. Much as she admired her doctor, it must be hard for him to understand what an achievement it was for a guy from a poor neighborhood in LA to earn his RN and then his master’s degree in administration, studying at night while working days.

      When the crowd around Lucky thinned, Marshall moved forward to shake his hand. He did have good manners, she mused, but that insight into his thinking had left a sour taste. Zady decided that whatever confidence she wished to impart to her boss could wait—or she might stay out of this altogether. Since Marshall was already guaranteed a large suite in the remodeled building, he wouldn’t be directly affected by the administration’s decision.

      The grumbling in her stomach reminded her that it was nearly four o’clock. Having skipped lunch, she wandered through the kitchen into the dining room, where, despite earlier depletions, there were still plenty of cold cuts and side dishes.

      The only person in the room, Nick, stood filling a pita pocket with hummus. As she watched, he tucked in thin-sliced ham and several pickle chips, finishing it all off with a squirt of mustard.

      “I hope your medicine cabinet’s stocked with antacids.” She took a paper plate off the stack.

      “It’s fun trying new food combinations,” he responded, and added sliced black olives to the mix. “Speaking of food, have you spilled the beans yet?”

      “Excuse me?” Zady spread mayonnaise on whole wheat bread before layering on corned beef and Swiss cheese.

      “Have you told my cousin about the big conspiracy? I’ve been waiting for him to glower in that winning fashion of his.” Edging alongside her, Nick smelled of coffee and spicy mustard. “Try that stinky cheese over there.” As he spoke, he plopped a hunk of it into his already stuffed pita.

      “Can you wait a minute? I’ll have to leave the room once you start eating that,” Zady said.

      “I’m not the person who bought it,” he remarked cheerily. “What did you stock for Marshall’s palate? I don’t see escargots. How about some pâté de foie gras? I can hardly pronounce it.”

      “There’s nothing wrong with French cuisine unless you’re a reverse snob.” She sliced her sandwich diagonally in half. “Well, maybe that pâté.” She’d read that its manufacture involved cruelty to geese.

      “You pegged me right, I’m a reverse snob.” A sexy chuckle tickled her ear. “I’m low class and proud of it.”

      She added potato salad to her plate. “To answer your question, I’ve decided to stay out of office politics.”

      “Sensible of you.” Following her example, Nick went for a serving of potato salad, then topped it with chives and salsa.

      “You doctors should bring your issues into the open and discuss them like adults.”

      “That assumes we are adults.” He hesitated. “Listen, I have a favor to ask.”

      “Does it involve eating stinky cheese?”

      He shook his head. “It involves driving across the county with me tomorrow to visit my son.” His tone had lost its teasing lilt.

      What a strange request. “Why?”

      “I need an objective observer for a tricky situation.” Nick had switched gears so abruptly that Zady found herself bracing for a punch line. Instead, he explained, “Caleb’s grandparents have been stalling me whenever I try to visit, and I’m not sure what’s behind it. His grandmother has become, well, unpredictable.”

      She was no expert on kids, nor was she eager to be on closer terms with the second Dr. Davis. Still, the request sounded genuine. Like her, he had few friends in Safe Harbor, and it showed that he placed a lot of trust in her. How could she say no if it meant helping him to see his little boy more?

      “I suppose I could ride along,” Zady said.

      “And possibly distract the little guy if I need a minute alone with Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan?”

      “Sure. I like kids.” Zady hadn’t meant to volunteer for babysitting duty, but she wanted to find out more about Nick’s son.

      “It would mean a lot to me.” Reaching across the table, Nick plucked a radish from a bowl and added it to her plate. “A token of my esteem, madam.”

      “I’m overwhelmed.”

      They were grinning when Marshall emerged from the kitchen. He broke his stride, his high cheekbones coloring.

      Oh, great. He probably assumed they were flirting, which they weren’t—exactly. Zady nearly rushed in with an explanation, but they’d been discussing Nick’s private business. Also, what she did on her days off didn’t concern Marshall.

      “See you around,” she told Nick, and, with a smile for her boss, carried her food away to eat in peace.

       Chapter Five

      Keenly aware of the proximity of other people, Nick kept his voice low as he faced his cousin across the dining room. “Don’t take it out on her.”

      “Don’t take what out on her?” Marshall frowned at a cabinet full of showy china, then—with an expression of distaste—plucked a paper plate off the stack. Funny how easily Nick tracked his cousin’s reactions, even though they’d avoided contact these past few years. “You mean I shouldn’t blame her because she’s on good terms with my cousin? As always, you assume I’m an ogre.”

      As always, I’m probably right. That would sound childish, Nick conceded. “I had no idea you’d joined the staff.”

      “Same here.” With surgical precision, Marshall formulated a sandwich, trimming off edges of meat and cheese that lapped over the crust. “I’ve admired Cole Rattigan for years. Anyone would leap at the opportunity to join his program and play a role in its growth.”

      Leaning against a

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