Guilt flooded through him. Admittedly, he hadn’t known Katrina Gregory for very long, but in that day and a half he’d really been aware of how warm and sweet she was. She wasn’t the type to be petty or to bear grudges and give someone the silent treatment.
He really should stop judging people by his own family’s behaviour.
And he most definitely owed Katrina an apology.
Katrina dropped by his office later that afternoon. ‘I’ve got Petros Smith’s blood results back. You’re right—it’s G6PD. Thanks for picking that up. There was something nagging in the back of my mind but I couldn’t quite place it.’
‘That’s what colleagues are for,’ he said lightly. ‘Do you want me to come and talk to them with you?’
‘No, that’s fine. I can see you’re busy.’
‘If you’re sure. The offer’s there.’ He paused. ‘Actually, before you go, can you close the door a second?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
‘I’d like a quick word with you.’
She looked wary, but did as he asked. ‘What is it?’
‘Sit down. I’m not going to bite your head off. It’s just…’ He sighed. ‘I owe you an apology.’
She blinked, but sat down. ‘An apology? Why?’
‘I called you earlier. On two separate occasions. You ignored me.’
She flushed. ‘Sorry, I—’
‘Let me finish,’ he cut in. ‘I thought it was deliberate, so I was going to ask you into my office for a quiet chat and sort out whatever the problem was. Then I overheard you talking to Ruby Jeffers and her parents—and I realise now you didn’t hear me.’
She winced. ‘Sorry. Sometimes it’s difficult at work, especially in an open area—it gets a bit noisy and I have to rely on lip-reading a lot more than I do at home.’
‘Don’t apologise. You’ve done nothing wrong—but now I know about it, I’ll make sure you’re facing me and that I’ve got your attention before I talk if it’s noisy.’
‘Thank you.’ She stood up. ‘I’d better go and see the Smiths.’
He knew he should leave it there. They had a truce. But something seemed to take over his mouth, and he found himself saying, ‘Before you do—would you have dinner with me this evening?’
She looked surprised. ‘But you don’t…’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t do team nights out.’
‘I’m not very good with crowds.’ He rubbed a hand across his face. ‘I’m not much of a drinker, I loathe karaoke and that sort of thing, and I’d rather go out for a good meal and a decent conversation than sit at the end of a huge table, not really knowing anyone and being only too aware that I was only invited because everyone’s being polite and it’s cramping their style having the consultant around.’
‘I see.’
Her expression intrigued him. ‘Why did you think I said no to team nights out?’
‘You mean, when most new consultants would go on absolutely everything to try and bond with the team?’ She spread her hands. ‘No idea. Maybe you have a complicated home life.’
‘There’s just me,’ he said softly. ‘No ties of any sort. So it’s pretty simple.’
‘Well, thank you for asking me,’ she said politely, ‘but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I don’t believe in dating colleagues. If it doesn’t work out, it makes life very awkward for everyone else on the ward.’
His brain registered her refusal—but her reason told him something else. She hadn’t refused because she was already involved with someone else or because she wasn’t interested in him: she’d refused because he was her colleague.
‘You’re right, it can make things difficult,’ he agreed. He’d seen it happen with other people rather than experienced it himself; in the past, he’d dated people who worked in the same hospital, but never colleagues from his own ward. ‘I’m asking you out to dinner because we’ve got off on the wrong foot and I’d like us to start again as colleagues—and it’s a more civilised way of starting a good working relationship.’
‘The wrong foot.’ She pursed her mouth. ‘You were telling me how to do my job yesterday.’
He’d wondered if she’d bring that up. ‘I was concerned that you’re getting too emotionally involved with your patients. That’s not healthy for you or for the patient.’ He smiled to soften his words. ‘But I saw you telling a story in the playroom yesterday afternoon.’
‘On my time, not the ward’s time.’ She folded her arms. ‘And I assume you want me to stop?’
‘No. Actually, I was thinking you’d be a natural as a teacher.’
Her face relaxed. ‘My best friend from school’s a primary school teacher. She uses a puppet to tell stories to her class and it works well, so I borrowed her idea for the ward.’
‘And it’s a good one. The children seemed to enjoy it.’
‘Anything that makes hospital easier for them and reduces the stress on their parents means that they can spend their energy on getting well. And it helps the brothers and sisters, too.’ She spread her hands. ‘And I enjoy it. If we’ve had one of those days where everything’s gone wrong, seeing the smiles on the faces of the little ones always makes me remember that life’s good.’
‘So you’re a glass-half-full person?’ he asked.
‘Definitely.’
‘Then have dinner with me tonight. As colleagues—and potential friends,’ he said.
She looked at him for a long, long moment. ‘Not a date.’
‘Not a date,’ he confirmed. ‘And you can choose where we go.’
‘All right. Thank you. Do you want to go straight after work?’
‘After,’ he said, ‘you’ve done your story.’
Her smile was the sweetest reward he could have asked for. ‘I’ll come and collect you, then. See you later.’
‘See you later,’ he said softly.
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