Read Online Tempted by Dr. Morales by Carol Marinelli - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carol Marinelli
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and comfortable and that it was something Elsie could discuss with the doctor if she saw fit. ‘Is there any message that you’d like me to pass on to your mother?’ Cate asked.
‘Just tell her that I’ll call back later,’ Maria said, and then rang off.
Cate let out a breath, and when the phone rang again, on instinct she answered it, though she soon wished that she hadn’t.
‘Can I please speak with Dr Morales?’
‘I’ll see if he’s available,’ Cate said. ‘May I ask who’s calling?’ As soon as the words were out she regretted them; she had made it clear that Juan was here but her mind had been so full of Elsie and her daughter that she had forgotten Juan’s little lecture from last week.
‘Tell him it is Martina.’
She found Juan in with Elsie, taking bloods.
‘Sorry I took so long, Elsie,’ Cate said. ‘Your daughter just called...’
Elsie rolled her eyes and dismissed the information with a flick of her hand. ‘You can ring her when I’m dead,’ Elsie huffed. ‘That will cheer her up.’
‘She’s going to call back later,’ Cate said, making a mental note to speak to whichever doctor Elsie was referred to, so that Elsie’s wishes could be discussed properly. ‘Juan, you’ve got a call too—Martina is on the phone for you, I’m very sorry, I forgot and I—’
He interrupted her excuses. ‘Tell her that I am with a patient,’ Juan answered, labelling the vials of blood he had taken.
‘Just to have her call back in ten minutes?’ Cate checked, because Martina called fairly frequently. ‘Why doesn’t she ring your mobile?’
‘Because I’ve blocked her.’ He muttered something under his breath in Spanish but then winked at Elsie. ‘Excuse me, I need to take a phone call.’
‘Be nice when you do,’ Elsie warned, and Juan smiled and gave a small shake of his head.
‘It gets you into more trouble sometimes.’
It did.
Juan had tried being nice, had tried being firm, had been downright rude a couple of times and the calls had stopped for a while. But as the date of what would have been their first wedding anniversary approached, Martina was more determined than ever to change history.
‘Juan, I was hoping to speak to you.’
‘I’m at work.’
‘Then call me from home.’
‘Martina—’
‘You won’t let me properly explain,’ Martina interrupted. ‘And I’m hearing from everyone the ridiculous things you are doing—that you are going to do a season of skiing. Why would you take such risks?’
‘I’m not your concern, Martina. You made that very clear.’
‘I would have come round. Juan, please, we need to speak.’
‘Stop calling me at work,’ Juan said, and hung up and sat for a moment, thinking of the man he had once been, compared with the man he was now.
Martina didn’t know him at all.
She couldn’t.
Not even he knew yet who the new Juan was.
‘Poor Martina,’ Elsie had said as Juan had left the cubicle to take the call and Cate had laughed. She loved old people, they knew about a thousand times more than the whole of the staff put together. It had taken Elsie about two seconds to work out what a heartbreaker Juan was.
‘I had one like that once,’ Elsie said, nodding to the curtains Juan had just walked through, as Cate helped her undress and get into a gown.
‘What, a six-foot-three Argentinian?’ Cate quipped.
‘No, a five-foot-eight Frenchman!’ Cate wanted to put Elsie in her handbag and take her home. ‘I was in my fifties and I’d been widowed for two years.’
‘That’s young to be a widow.’
‘Don’t waste any sympathy, I had a terrible marriage,’ Elsie said. ‘You can call me the merry widow if you must, but I was just sick of feeling like I was in my daughter’s way and being told what to do. I took myself off to France—I’d always wanted to go and I was so glad I did. We had one week together and I had the best time of my whole life!’ She pointed to a large silver bezel-set amethyst
‘Just tell her that I’ll call back later,’ Maria said, and then rang off.
Cate let out a breath, and when the phone rang again, on instinct she answered it, though she soon wished that she hadn’t.
‘Can I please speak with Dr Morales?’
‘I’ll see if he’s available,’ Cate said. ‘May I ask who’s calling?’ As soon as the words were out she regretted them; she had made it clear that Juan was here but her mind had been so full of Elsie and her daughter that she had forgotten Juan’s little lecture from last week.
‘Tell him it is Martina.’
She found Juan in with Elsie, taking bloods.
‘Sorry I took so long, Elsie,’ Cate said. ‘Your daughter just called...’
Elsie rolled her eyes and dismissed the information with a flick of her hand. ‘You can ring her when I’m dead,’ Elsie huffed. ‘That will cheer her up.’
‘She’s going to call back later,’ Cate said, making a mental note to speak to whichever doctor Elsie was referred to, so that Elsie’s wishes could be discussed properly. ‘Juan, you’ve got a call too—Martina is on the phone for you, I’m very sorry, I forgot and I—’
He interrupted her excuses. ‘Tell her that I am with a patient,’ Juan answered, labelling the vials of blood he had taken.
‘Just to have her call back in ten minutes?’ Cate checked, because Martina called fairly frequently. ‘Why doesn’t she ring your mobile?’
‘Because I’ve blocked her.’ He muttered something under his breath in Spanish but then winked at Elsie. ‘Excuse me, I need to take a phone call.’
‘Be nice when you do,’ Elsie warned, and Juan smiled and gave a small shake of his head.
‘It gets you into more trouble sometimes.’
It did.
Juan had tried being nice, had tried being firm, had been downright rude a couple of times and the calls had stopped for a while. But as the date of what would have been their first wedding anniversary approached, Martina was more determined than ever to change history.
‘Juan, I was hoping to speak to you.’
‘I’m at work.’
‘Then call me from home.’
‘Martina—’
‘You won’t let me properly explain,’ Martina interrupted. ‘And I’m hearing from everyone the ridiculous things you are doing—that you are going to do a season of skiing. Why would you take such risks?’
‘I’m not your concern, Martina. You made that very clear.’
‘I would have come round. Juan, please, we need to speak.’
‘Stop calling me at work,’ Juan said, and hung up and sat for a moment, thinking of the man he had once been, compared with the man he was now.
Martina didn’t know him at all.
She couldn’t.
Not even he knew yet who the new Juan was.
‘Poor Martina,’ Elsie had said as Juan had left the cubicle to take the call and Cate had laughed. She loved old people, they knew about a thousand times more than the whole of the staff put together. It had taken Elsie about two seconds to work out what a heartbreaker Juan was.
‘I had one like that once,’ Elsie said, nodding to the curtains Juan had just walked through, as Cate helped her undress and get into a gown.
‘What, a six-foot-three Argentinian?’ Cate quipped.
‘No, a five-foot-eight Frenchman!’ Cate wanted to put Elsie in her handbag and take her home. ‘I was in my fifties and I’d been widowed for two years.’
‘That’s young to be a widow.’
‘Don’t waste any sympathy, I had a terrible marriage,’ Elsie said. ‘You can call me the merry widow if you must, but I was just sick of feeling like I was in my daughter’s way and being told what to do. I took myself off to France—I’d always wanted to go and I was so glad I did. We had one week together and I had the best time of my whole life!’ She pointed to a large silver bezel-set amethyst
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