Chasing Ava: A Bachelor of Shell Cove Novel (The Bachelors of Shell Cove) (9 page)

Chapter 6

Ava should have considered it a rare honor to escort a group of SCMC financial donors through the pediatric unit. A twenty-bed state of the art medical and surgical hybrid unit framed by contemporary glass walls, trimmed in high gloss wood and accented with polished chrome. The physical building was as impressive as the patient care and clinical research occurring under its roof. The group was comprised of seven diamond-clad ladies, ranging in age from mid-fifties to early sixties, coiffed and coutured to perfection. One gentleman, maybe in his early fifties accompanied the group. He was lean with an athletic build, a dark complexion and intelligent eyes. So why did she have the distinct feeling of being beaten like a drum? Kathryn had asked her to showcase how foundation research grants and the medical innovations division worked together to develop best practices in pediatric inpatient care.
 

“You are very knowledgeable about the pediatric research at the facility.” That was from a short woman with pale skin and bright blue eyes near the back of the group. Ava offered a smile at the compliment as she led the group past a medical storage area.
 

“It’s her job.” The brisk retort was directed at no one in particular. The comment came from the woman who walked in front and slightly away from the group. The gold-buttoned nautical theme jacket with matching knit skirt made her look like a military commander to a squadron of Barbie dolls.
 

“Thank you,” Ava replied. “I serve as the primary nurse to several of the patients enrolled in the pediatric wound care project.” A project that Logan led and she believed in. She was privy to the lifesaving treatment regimens developed from his research. Trying not to think about Logan, Ava focused on all the lives and limbs that had been spared because of the wound care project. That was enough to renew her determination to make a lasting impression on the donors.
 

 
The medical center depended on the annual infusion of grant monies and she wanted to do her part to help. She sutured her smile in place and continued with the tour.
 

“Take us to the patient care pods I’ve heard so much about.” It was Commando Barbie again. The woman had to know all the renovations were included on the tour. Ava didn’t need to be told what to do on the job. This was her domain. Care pods were a cluster of patient rooms oriented in a clover design. The nursing team was housed in the center of the clover with the ability to visually assess every patient at a glance if necessary.

The donors beamed at the upgraded room designs, a tangible representation of foundation dollars at work. New paint and equipment was much easier to conceptualize than medical research.

The final stop was the healing garden addition. An enclosed terrace complete with automated babbling brooks, natural sunlight and padded benches nestled under palm trees.
 

It was her favorite part of the unit. Cabin fever could be hard on children that required a prolonged hospital stay. The garden was a touch of normalcy.

“I hope the nurses aren’t hiding out in here.” Barbie, the battle-axe was at it again. “What policies are in place to ensure this remains a haven for patients rather than the nurses?” With clenched teeth, Ava reminded herself that the funding and Logan’s research were priority, not her pride.

“The professionalism of the nursing and medical staff at SCMC is above reproach. Our priority is the care of the patient, not the hospital based amenities.” Ava was proud of her response. She met the woman eye to eye, not backing down.
 

“If there are no more questions, this concludes the tour. Thank you again for taking time out of your schedules to visit us today.” That was the closing pitch with a cherry on top.
 

“Nurse.” Ava turned back to look at the Barbie, lips pinched in frustration.
The devil wears St. Johns.
 

“Bring me a bottled water. I am so parched after these walks through the service wards.”
No this woman did not say service wards, what was this, World War II?
“I’ll have to remember to hydrate before we visit the clinics tomorrow.” She said for the entourage.
 

The woman seemed bent on relegating Ava to a position of servitude.
 

According to the unit manager these were annual visits, so why hadn’t she brought a personal stock of Perrier water to quench the thirst of the beast? Not only was her attitude grating on Ava’s nerves, the woman’s perfume had the stench of hair dye. Ava dug deep in her bag of love for all God’s creatures and pulled out the last of her patience with this woman. With her smile cemented in place she turned to speak.
 

“The drinks available on the unit are for patient consumption only. There is a drinking fountain and vending machines in the hall as you exit the floor.” Blonde, flat-ironed tresses partially obscured the woman’s face, but not enough to hide her scowl.
 

“A public watering hole. I think not.”
 

Ava offered her most professional persona, as she led the group to the fire safe exit doors. Thankful that the tour was over, Ava turned on her heel in the direction of the staff lounge. She needed a moment to unwind before she checked on each patient.
 

The charge nurse signaled to her from the nurse’s station. “Ava. Room 2B is requesting you?” The weariness she felt after escorting the donors was immediately replaced by concern.
 

Ava made a beeline to her patient’s room fearing the sixteen-year old had taken a turn for the worse. Monique Faulkner had been admitted to the unit from the SCMC emergency department three days before with fever, worsening arm pain, and drainage from her surgery site. The girl had suffered a vicious attack by a then boyfriend, resulting in a three-point break to her right forearm. Metal plates and screws had been surgically implanted to stabilize each bone segment.
 

“Ava! Where have you been, girlfriend?” Monique’s thick braids where twisted in an intricate knot on top of her head. Her cherubic face wore a smile, and her eyes danced in merriment. Ava returned a smile in kind as she moved closer.
 

“Monique, I was worried. Why did you ask for me?”

“I’m bored. I need someone to talk to. I’m sorry if I took you away from another patient.” Monique lowered her head but not before Ava recognized the shame. Time with Monique was a treat, especially after Commando Barbie.
 

“It’s okay. I got pulled for escort duty this morning, but I have time to talk.”

“With the President or something?”

“No, not that esteemed, but they are important people to this hospital.”

“That’s cool. Ah …” Monique didn’t hesitate. She was vocal when it came to something she wanted.
 

“What’s up Monique? You can talk with me about anything.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s probably not right or selfish or something, but … I was wondering.”

“Yes, go on.” Ava moved closer to the bed. She took Monique’s uninjured arm giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement.
 

“When you’re on duty can you be my nurse?” Monique imitated mock air quotations.
 

“Has something happened?”

“No, no. Everybody is great, but you and me, we kind of have a mini bond thing happening.”

Ava hesitated a moment, not because she didn’t want to, but out of respect for the charge nurse she needed to discuss the staffing mix with the supervisor before giving an answer.
 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just thought …”

“Of course I want to do a mini bond kind of thing with you. Let me talk with the nurse in charge to work out the staffing. We have to divide the more complex patients amongst the nurses.”
 

The smile radiating on Monique’s face warmed Ava’s heart.

The sound of the room door opening drew their attention.
 

“Just the two ladies I wanted to see.”
 

The stomach dip told her it was Logan before she could focus on his face. She had been avoiding him since the fundraiser.
 

“Dr. Masters, Ava has agreed to be my nurse. Isn’t that great? Now I have my favorite doctor and nurse together.”

The look that Logan gave her seared her insides and she gripped the bedrail to steady herself.
 

“This is great news, Monique. We both have the pleasure of forging a lasting relationship with Ava.”
 

She knew Logan wasn’t referring to a professional relationship.

“Ava and I will talk about the plan of care for you after I finish your exam.”

“Ah, Dr. Masters I feel fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that since I am responsible for your care, but no short cuts allowed. I have requested your medical records from the hospital that performed your surgery, just in case we have to remove the hardware from your arm. We will give the antibiotic more time to kill the infection, but I want to be prepared if more needs to be done.”
 

Monique did not look happy at the mention of another surgery.
 

“I’ll step out to give you both some privacy.” Ava gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile, squeezed Monique’s hand once before she released it, and then moved to exit the room.

She felt his familiar hand close around her wrist as she brushed by.

“Wait for me outside, Ava.” His expression told her there would be no escaping him today.

 
Logan’s thoughts strayed to Ava more with each passing day. That night with Ava was groundhog’s day on a repeating loop in his brain. Why had she rejected him?
 

She was attracted to him. He’d witnessed how responsive she was to his touch. He felt her very physical reaction when she pressed against him during the dance. She had leaned into his touch at her front door.
 

Today he was getting a date with her.

He didn’t have to go in search of her as he expected. She was closing Monique’s intake chart when he stopped in front of her. He let her see the determination in his eyes. Without a word he took her elbow leading her to a more remote service corridor away from prying eyes.

 
“Why did you refuse to go out to dinner with me?”
 

In Ava fashion she sidestepped his question, posing one of her own. “Dr. Masters, I’ll do my best to support you in caring for Monique. She is a special young lady. Do you have a question regarding the patient?” She’d emphasized the word patient.

He took a page from her playbook with a reverse distraction of his own. “It’s because I’m white. Are you refusing my invitations because of my color?”

“No. Are you wearing crazy pants?”

“Crazy pants?” He repeated in an uncertain tone. “What in hell are crazy pants?”

“Don’t swear. It means it’s a ridiculous question. I’m not a racist. You should be ashamed for suggesting such a thing.” Ava responded in a loud whisper. A flash of annoyance covered her face.

Finally, a straight answer. No way was he letting up on the pressure. This woman was meant to be his.
 

“You’ve been deliberately avoiding me. It’s not my age or race. What’s holding you back?” He took both her hands in his. “Don’t give me another excuse.”

“I can’t date you. Furthermore, we shouldn’t be talking about this at work.”

He smiled at her choice of words. “You’ve been thinking about dating me, yet you refuse my invitation. Fine, we can talk about us over dinner tonight.”

“I’m not having dinner with you.”

“Why not? There is nothing wrong with me.”

“Other than being arrogant, bossy, and having a potty mouth,” she responded matter-of-factly.
 

“Like I said, there’s nothing wrong with me. I know you are attracted to me. Do you have something against a man with a job?”

“I prefer men with jobs, however, it would be poor judgment on my part to date a doctor I work with every day. I love my job Dr. Masters; we have a good working relationship. I can’t handle any complications in my life.”
 

“I am not a complication to be managed with the other sick patients. There’s more between us than a working relationship. You have to be the only woman I know for whom my being a doctor is a liability.” He took a deep steadying breath before he spoke. “I want to get to know you better. Let me feed you since we both know you’re not too keen on car rides.” They both laughed and he moved in close, taking her hands, determined to wear down her resistance.