you nailed it,’ she responded without expression in her voice or on her face. ‘I did dress in the dark this morning, quite literally.’
‘Power outage?’
‘Of sorts,’ she replied, not liking the fact he hadn’t broken eye contact. For some unknown reason, despite her showing no emotion, he was unsettling her. It wasn’t his line of questioning. It was his proximity to her. Through his clothes and her own, she could almost sense the warmth of his body. It was as if her own body was adjusting its thermostat to his and she was enormously relieved when he stepped away.
‘That would explain a lot.’
Molly wasn’t sure what the comment alluded to but assumed it was her previously wet hair and clothes. Before she could take him to task on the meaning behind his remark, he popped the patient record under his arm and then asked Lizzy to follow him to the consulting room.
As the two of them disappeared, Molly was angry with herself. Why the hell was she reacting to him being so close? She should be angry with him but instead she felt a warm wave wash over her and suspected her cheeks might be flushed. She was appalled and surprised.
Molly had met Ryan briefly when she had first arrived, flustered and rushed. She accepted he was an extremely good-looking man but their meeting had been brief, and from a distance across the office as he’d taken an early arriving patient into his consulting room. She had been more interested in settling into the job with the assistance of the young nurse, Stacy, who was there arranging influenza shots and bloods. Molly just wanted to stay under the radar and unnoticed herself, rather than noticing too much about her employer. But suddenly, now, she had noticed far too much about him.
The handsome medico was dressed straight from a men’s designer store, the kind of store filled with expensive leather shoes and every imported suit hanging an equal distance from the next on the rack, all covered with shoulder protectors, and assorted silk ties dressing shirts that were housed in open mahogany display cabinets. She knew the stores only too well. A year before, she and her fiancé had been regular customers of them. Her fiancé was quite the clothes horse and she had unwittingly been footing the bill. Ever since, the stores and the people who shopped there had held no appeal to her.
And there was Dr McFetridge’s elegantly decorated consulting rooms in one of Adelaide’s most affluent eastern suburbs. The leafy side streets were lined with large, opulent, double-storey homes with return driveways and at least three imported cars while Molly’s home had no driveway, which was fine as she had no car to park in one anyway. She had sold it along with her jewellery to cover the bond on her home and buy some simple furnishings. And she could get by just fine without it. Except for this morning, when a car would have been very handy.
Everything about Ryan was impeccable. She assumed his designer underwear would match his socks too. Black and more than likely the finest imported woven silk...
She stopped mid-thought and shook herself mentally. What had got into her? And why on earth was she even thinking about her employer’s underwear? It had to have been the knock to her head. Or perhaps being celibate for a year was affecting her reasoning, she decided. But it hadn’t until that moment. The need to have a man in her life was below the need to match the colour of the bin liner to the trash can. Of no importance and not worth a second thought. And a man like Dr McFetridge was not on her wish list; no man was.
Perhaps it was the significance of the day that was making her react. That had to be it, she told herself, and the next day would be different. She wouldn’t be having the melancholy thoughts and she wouldn’t give her boss even a second thought.
But she begrudgingly admitted to herself that she did like his cologne. The fresh woody fragrance was still lingering. Fragrance had not been her priority that morning. She was lucky to get close to soap and nothing about her lingerie matched. Molly’s stomach dropped and she moved in her seat to confirm in her rush she had remembered underwear. She breathed a sigh of relief when she could feel the elastic of her knickers. Thankfully she had grabbed one of the three pairs pegged to a coat hanger to dry over the bath the night before. She cringed momentarily.
If they had not been hanging in her line of sight would she be wearing any?
Just as quickly yet another unsettling thought swept into her mind. She pushed it aside. They were on and she didn’t need to dwell on what might or might not have been. It had been a ridiculously rushed start to her first day but with a smidgen of Irish luck, from her father’s side, she had made it with five minutes to spare. Although after seeing the consulting rooms she wondered just how long he would keep her on staff. It was only too obvious to Molly that appearance certainly counted with him. His dress sense, his rooms, all of it was immaculate.
And she was not. Well, not at that time. She had previously dressed well and taken pride in her hair and make-up, but equal amounts of money and sleep deprivation meant both had gone to pot. And nothing much about that was going to change overnight. But she was clean and efficient. Like the pitch to sell a small imported car, she thought.
Her mind was jumbled and she had to stay focussed. It couldn’t be that difficult. He was just another tall, dark, good-looking man and she was not interested in men, tall, short, dark or fair; she was not interested in being used and lied to again. And stripped of her faith in humanity...and her worldly possessions...in one fell swoop.
She opened her eyes just as quickly and, looking around at everything, she was reminded that, while she no doubt looked out of place in Ryan McFetridge’s practice, her skills should ensure she stayed put as long as possible and enable her to meet the rent and avoid Joel’s advances.
Despite her decision not to bite back too fiercely, Molly could not roll over and let another man think his looks would allow him to act in a way that was just wrong in her book. While it was only her shoes, she had to put a line in the sand and retain a little dignity. She had made it to work on time and he had no idea what she had been through to get there. So what if her shoes didn’t match? As if it mattered in the scheme of things—her feet were hidden behind the desk and it didn’t make her less competent, she reminded herself, all the while feeling quite ridiculous and uncomfortably exposed. Although she did not truly feel the level of bravado she was trying to exude, she would do her best to let her temporary employer know where she stood.
Twenty minutes later, Lizzy and Ryan reappeared. He placed the notes on the reception desk, and Molly couldn’t help but notice he patted the dog-eared records almost affectionately. She was even more confused.
‘I’ll need you to make another time for Lizzy in four weeks with Dr Slattery. His details are on the notes here. And can you make it a time that I can attend with her so block out ninety minutes in my calendar too, please, Molly, to allow for my travel time.’
‘Certainly,’ Molly replied, then, wondering why Ryan would be accompanying his patient to see another medico, added, ‘Is this for a second opinion?’
‘No, it’s not a second opinion. Lizzy is Dr Slattery’s patient.’
‘Okay, I’ll call his rooms and make that time now.’
Molly didn’t quite understand but decided not to question him further. However, she did need to address something. His remarks about her shoes were playing on her mind. She wanted to be clear in what she would tolerate and what she wouldn’t and wanted to address it before Ryan disappeared back into his room.
‘I’ll make the time right away, then after that I could take a lunch break, go home and collect matching shoes if you think they’re an issue.’ Molly’s tone was not confronting but it was firm and
