wouldn’t do. These feelings, these memories…wouldn’t do at all. “Get Dr Aeberhard on the phone for me, will you?” she asked Marianne.
Time for a holiday. She’d been here well over a year now, without a single day off. Surely Max would grant her a few days away. While he didn’t oversee the medical end of the clinic, he did still run the business aspects, and her taking a holiday was definitely a business aspect. But she needed a few days to go and hide somewhere, and figure out what to do. Figure out how to avoid Dante. How to avoid even thinking about him.
“I know you haven’t had a day off, and it’s a very reasonable request. Just not right now, Catherine. I’m sorry. If you’d asked a month ago, or a week ago…” He shrugged. “You deserve the time off, and I don’t begrudge you a nice holiday, but Aeberhard Clinic needs you here at the moment.”
Dr Max Aeberhard—jolly, plump, lots of white hair, white beard down his chest, walked with a slight limp, always a smile on his face. She adored the man, both as a friend and mentor. She’d called him, and he’d come running. He always did. In semi-retirement now, Max still took a few patients for consultation, as well as overseeing the business side. Of course, his version of semi-retired ran circles around most people’s version of full-time employed. The man loved his clinic, loved his patients, and he would never completely retire from any of it. It was as much a part of him as was that twinkle in his blue eyes.
“Just a couple of days, Max. That’s all I need.” It was pointless arguing with him. Max was a kindly man, but once he set his mind to something, it couldn’t be budged. She wasn’t going to get her holiday. No time away from Dante, not even a few days to collect her wits. In fact, it was because of Dante that she had to stay.
“Do you know how many enquiries I’ve had already regarding having Dante Baldassare as a patient here?”
Not as many as she’d had. Worldwide sports journalists had been calling almost from the moment Dante had arrived. They wanted interviews, pictures. They wanted to know more about the clinic. At the very least, all the publicity was going to throw the clinic into the center of attention for a little while. She realized that. And didn’t want to be a part of it—not on Dante’s account, anyway. “We can ignore them. I’ve already instructed the staff not to mingle with anyone from the media, not to grant interviews, pose for pictures, get caught where any patient or clinic information might be revealed. And I’ve doubled security on the grounds. As far as I’m concerned, we’re braced for just about anything, and if there is a need to give an official statement to anyone, in all reality you should be the one. So everything’s taken care of and I truly don’t need to be here.” Good argument, but she wasn’t going to win it.
Max chuckled, his beard bobbing up and down. “Maybe it’s taken care of, from your perspective anyway, but they won’t ignore us, Catherine. Mr Baldassare has a following all over the world, and all that’s come knocking on our door for the duration of his stay. The people outside aren’t going to be content to walk away without something. We’re small, and we need you here to make sure we keep our medical focus.”
“Then maybe we should find him another clinic, one that’s better prepared to cope with his celebrity. The one in Toronto deals a lot with celebrities, doesn’t it? And they have a good reputation. I might even know the medical director…”
“This isn’t like you, Catherine, backing down from a challenge. Even running away from it. Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“I’d like to tell you that I’m tired, and I need a short holiday. But I suppose I needn’t bother.”
“When he’s gone and things are back to normal, you can have all the time you need. Even enough for a trip back to the States to visit your family and friends, if that’s what you’d like to do. But right now I need you to deal with what’s happening here.”
So she would stay. But when Dante was gone, would things really go back to normal, as Max thought they would? Or would their new-found celebrity status change matters? New recognition, more demand, maybe even the opportunity to expand as they’d talked about. Catherine wondered about all that for a moment, not unhappy about the prospects that Dante’s fame might bring. Perhaps him coming here might count for something after all. At least, that’s what she wanted to tell herself. “Fine, when he’s gone I’ll take my holiday. But I think that since he’s so famous, you should be the one assigned to his care. It’s your clinic, your reputation, your good name…”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to avoid the man.” He arched his bushy white eyebrows. “Eh?”
“OK, so I used to know him. A long time ago. And I don’t think it’s good form to treat an old…acquaintance.”
“Except your old acquaintance requested you specifically, so I’ve been told. I think we should honor his request, don’t you? After all, the goal of Aeberhard Clinic is to accommodate its guests.”
“And I think we should maintain a professional appearance here and take me off his case. I’m not comfortable…”
“Not comfortable giving the patient what he wants? Or needs?” Max shook his head and clucked his tongue. “This isn’t sounding at all like you, Catherine. Not at all. And don’t give me the excuse that you’re tired, because that’s not what this is about.”
She liked Max. Actually, in the short time she’d known him, she’d come to love the man like a father. In fact, years ago, when she had still been a medical intern, she’d moved heaven and earth to get to one of his symposiums. Dr Maximilian Aeberhard had been the best rehabilitation specialist in the world, and the instant she’d learned he was coming to Boston she’d finagled a spot in to hear him lecture. doctors from all over North America had been there, and she, a lowly intern, hadn’t been granted admittance. So she’d volunteered to be an usher that day, to escort other doctors to their seats. In exchange, she’d tucked herself into a nook at the back of the lecture hall and listened to the most brilliant doctor she’d ever heard.
Amazingly, she’d bumped into him in the elevator later on that day and, for whatever reason the gods had ordained, had been fortunate enough to take tea with him. Then they’d shared an evening meal at his invitation. The gods smiling on her again. After that she’d read everything he’d ever published, practically memorized every text he’d written, and eventually settled into a medical practice chocked full of Max Aeberhard teachings. Life had been good, she’d been advancing. All of a sudden, out of the blue, she’d received an invitation to come to Bern to be interviewed for a post at the Aeberhard Clinic.
Naturally, chances like that didn’t come up every day. Didn’t happen in most lifetimes. In fact, she’d firmly convinced herself it was some kind of a mistake until the day Max’s secretary had called to confirm her appointment. Then she’d had to pinch herself over and over to make sure it wasn’t a dream.
She’d come for that interview, of course, not even knowing or caring what kind of post it was. To be honest, she’d have been happy ironing his surgical scrubs, if that had been the position being offered, because it would have put her closer to the man she idolized. But as it had turned out, the post had been Max replacing himself as medical director in order to cut back on a few of his duties—a position for which she’d had absolutely no qualifications whatsoever. She’d walked away dejected and somewhat mystified that she’d received the invitation. By the time she’d returned to her room at the hotel, she’d convinced herself the invitation had been a mistake and Max’s interview merely a polite formality on the way to rejecting her. But then the phone call had come. He’d invited her to supper, and that’s
