The mother nodded.
Just minutes later, Tiffani hovered by the entrance with paper and pen in hand. She was fast. Good girl.
Rex backed away until he stood close to Tiffani. There was that fresh floral scent he’d first smelled when she’d climbed into the truck. It was one he would remember long after he and Tiffani had parted ways.
“You need to write down—”
“I’ve already got it.”
He stepped out into the hall. Tiffani followed him. “Thanks for the great help.”
She seemed to glow under his praise, but then she appeared unsure, as if he might have said something wrong.
“It’s better than being bored. Plus, I’m getting to see you in action.” She continued to scribble.
“While I’m getting the medicine for Johnny, would you mind calling the next patient for me?”
“Already done. They’re in the exam room next to this one.”
He shook his head in disbelief and looked into her eyes. She was his type of woman. The kind willing to do what needed doing. “Thanks. You really have been great about this.”
She shrugged and smiled.
“A PR woman on the way to being a nurse.”
Her eyes flicked up to him. “That won’t happen,” she said, a hard note to her voice, and then returned to writing.
As he fetched the antibiotic samples, he pondered Tiffani’s statement. She didn’t seem to care much for his profession. There had been her look of uncertainty a moment ago. Yet she was doing a great job. Maybe her hang-up had to do with blood or needles? After giving the pill packs and instructions to Johnny’s mother, he went to his next patient.
He saw Tiffani in the hall a few minutes later.
“I need to clean Mrs. Guzman’s exam room,” she said. “Tell me a few things about your last patient and I’ll jot them down.”
They worked seamlessly over the next hour, seeing five more patients. It took another couple of hours before there was no one else waiting. For what should have been a difficult clinic, Tiffani had managed to make it much smoother. At least for him. She walked down the hall toward him after dropping off some papers he’d asked her to take to Louise.
“I can run you back to the hospital now,” he said.
“Don’t we need to go over the patients’ notes?”
A lock of her hair had come loose. He fingered the glossy strand before he brushed it over her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Tiffani stared at him. She looked vulnerable, approachable, all that PR businesswoman stuff suddenly missing. His gaze dropped to her mouth. What would she do if he tried to kiss her?
“Uh, you might not be able to read my writing.” There was a hitch in her voice that let him know she hadn’t been unaffected by his touch.
He grinned. “You do know you’re talking to a doctor about penmanship.”
“You do have a point.”
“Let’s go back here and make ourselves comfortable and see what you’ve got on those pages.” He directed her toward the back of the building.
“My excuse is I had to write fast. What’s yours?”
“I’ll have you know I have better than average writing skills. Are you sure I don’t need to be getting you back to the hospital, though?” He followed close behind her as they went down the makeshift hallway.
“No hurry,” she said absentmindedly.
“What? No date on Saturday night?”
“No. Or any other night, for that matter.” She looked stricken, as if she hadn’t intended to make that confession out loud.
“I’d think someone as attractive as you would have a busy weekend planned.” He directed her toward a folding table the staff used for breaks. “Would you like a soda? Some crackers? All out of a machine, I’m afraid, but the upside is I’m buying.”
She put the small notebook and pen on the table. “Both, if you don’t mind. My breakfast gave out hours ago.”
Guilt niggled at him. She been stuck here, helping him. He would have to make this up to her. Rex dug in his pocket for some cash. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to tie up your day. I owe you one.”
“Well, I wasn’t too happy at first but what kind of person would I be if I demanded to leave when you needed help so badly?”
“Now I really feel bad,” he said over his shoulder as he headed to the vending machines.
“Don’t. I’ve learned a lot more about you today than I ever would reading my research,” she said across the room.
“I hope it was positive.” He put his money in and made his choices.
“If you promise not to remind me I said this, I happen to be impressed. The wild, unconventional, push-the-limits doctor you’d have the world believe you are actually has a really big heart. And a nice bedside manner as well.”
Why did he enjoy hearing those words so much, coming from her? Smiling, he turned around and put his hand over his heart in a mocking gesture. “Stop, you’re making me blush.”
Tiffani laughed. Big, full-bodied laughter that did something to his insides. He joined her. It felt good to joke with a woman. Few, if any, of the women he’d been in relationships with had enjoyed sharing witty banter. With them, the interaction had always been a prelude to sex.
It was nice to have a conversation with a woman who tested his mental sharpness. Getting to know Tiffani was turning into fun. Something he was sure she needed more of, and which he knew he could use too.
When their laughter subsided, she pointed her finger at him. “Now, don’t you make me regret admitting that.”
“I can’t make any promises. Have a seat and we’ll look at those notes. If it’s not too busy, maybe we can get out of here after I do some quick dictation.”
* * *
Tiffani was glad to put her feet up, propping them on the chair next to her. The last time she’d done that much walking and standing on a hard floor had been during her college years when she’d worked at a chain store one summer. Despite her aching feet, the morning had been interesting and enlightening. She’d never considered how adaptable a doctor must be. Each case was different. Helping at the clinic had given her a whole new perspective on the medical profession, and Rex in particular.
She’d seen nothing of the uncaring, unresponsive person in Rex that her father had for decades accused doctors of being. Rex hadn’t displayed an attitude with his patients. He’d acted as if he genuinely wanted to help them. His compassion and concern when interacting with his patients had seemed genuine. Even in Mrs. Guzman’s case, which had been particularly unpleasant, he had tenderly cared for her leg with aplomb and concern.
There was none of the I don’t care or I’m more interested in getting you out of here arrogance she’d believed. Had she taken her bitterness over what had happened to her father and, in turn, her family, too far by blaming all of the medical community?
Rex worked hard without complaint and never appeared irritated when there was just one more question. That she was impressed with him was an understatement. He was nothing like the doctor she had envisioned him to be. Just how fast Rex was growing on her pushed her outside the boundary of her comfort zone.
He put a couple of packs of crackers and drinks on the table then took a seat across from her. “May I see those notes?”
Tiffani pushed the notebook toward him. He flipped through the pages. “We don’t keep extensive medical records here. Mostly notes we can pull out just to see what has happened before. Or how much medicine we’ve dispensed. Many of our patients have drug-dependency issues and we don’t want to contribute to the problem. I’ll get these dictated quickly.”
“Does Louise type them up for you?”
He chuckled. “No. We have a lady who volunteers her time.”
“Does anyone get paid who works here?” She opened her crackers.
Rex shook his head, his ha
ir swinging around his head. “It’s an all-volunteer clinic.”
“Amazing.”
“We’re only open two Saturdays a month. I often think we’ll not have enough workers and can’t open but it hasn’t happened yet. Almost happened today, but you saved the day.” He gave her an approving smile before his attention was back on what she had written.
“That’s me, Wonder Woman. Not.” She made a self-deprecating sound.
“As far as I’m concerned, you were.”
It was nice of him to think so. She had felt so humiliated after the fiasco with Lou that it was affirming to have a man appreciate her, even if it was just for stepping in to help.
Waiting for Rex to finish looking at her notes, she crossed her ankles, which were still propped up on the seat of the chair next to her. “This is an amazing place and obviously much needed.”
“You can say that again,” he replied, sounding almost absentminded, but then he gave her his full attention. “There are very few Saturdays when they’re not waiting two and three deep to be seen. Today’s cases were roughly normal but we have gotten some gunshot wounds and knife injuries. It was hard in the beginning to get people to come in, so many of them didn’t trust us, but now we’re flooded.” His attention had gone back to her notes.