Professor And The Nanny. Phyllis Halldorson
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he keeps his diabetes under control, but because of his short-term memory problems he can’t always remember to give himself his insulin shots. When that happens he goes downhill fast, but I’m sure you know about that.”
Brittany knew he was testing her and responded appropriately. “Yes, I do. His blood-sugar count goes up dangerously high and he feels woozy. That’s when he’s apt to get confused and fall.”
Ethan nodded his agreement. “Right. That’s the most important reason we need a medical assistant as a caregiver.”
“I’m very good at making sure my patients get their meds,” she assured him. “What about your mother? Does she live here, too?”
He shook his head. “My mother died of a sudden heart attack when my twin brother and I were in high school. Peter and I were their only children, and Dad never married again so there’s no second family.”
“And your wife?” she asked hesitantly. “You do have a wife, don’t you?”
He shook his head. “Not anymore,” he said crisply. “My wife and I were divorced two years ago. We have an eighteen-month-old son, but he won’t be a problem for you. He lives in Pleasant Hill with his mother. I have him every other weekend.”
Brittany was startled by his disclosure. So far she hadn’t seen any sign of a woman in residence, but she’d assumed there was one. Why would any woman give up on a man with all Ethan had going for him? What had happened?
Well, that was obviously none of her business and it was time to change the subject.
“So you have a twin brother,” she said. “That must have been fun when you were growing up.”
He smiled. “No, we’re fraternal twins, not identical. Pete is six two, losing his hair and has blue eyes. We don’t even look like brothers.”
Brittany’s gaze shifted up to Ethan’s luxuriant crop of brown-colored hair, and her fingers tingled to run through it. No chance of him going bald anytime soon. “How odd,” she commented. “Does he live in the area?”
“No, he and his wife are lawyers and are partners in separate law firms in New Orleans, so you’d be on your own with Dad from eight in the morning until midafternoon at the earliest. Do you think you could handle that?”
“I’m sure of it,” she said with a tad more confidence than she felt. “Also, the agency I work through has backup help always available. I can call them at any time should a problem arise.”
“Well, I don’t know,” he waffled. “I need someone who understands the situation and can deal with it. My first choice was for a male medical assistant, but the agency didn’t have any available.”
He thought for a minute, then spoke. “Look, why don’t I introduce you to Dad and see how it goes? He’s in the family room watching a baseball game on television.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Brittany said, relieved that he was at least going to give her a chance, let her meet the patient and see how they got along.
“Fine, then come on. It’s down the hall.”
Again he took her arm. She wasn’t sure it was necessary as a form of politeness, but she was glad he did. She liked the closeness it induced in her.
They walked down the hall to the right of the staircase and past a closed door until they came to a big open room across the back of the house.
It was totally unlike the parlor, or the dining room she’d glimpsed across the foyer. They were furnished in eighteenth-century decor, stately but cool and formal. This one, however, was strictly twentieth century with comfortable modern furniture, massive sliding glass doors and windows with a view that seemed to bring the colorful, well-tended gardens inside. A big-screen television set was tuned to a baseball game in progress.
The furniture divided the rectangular room into two separate areas. The television was the focal point to the left of the wide entryway, and the right side featured a marble fireplace with a long cream-colored sofa facing it from the middle of the room. There were numerous thickly upholstered lounge chairs in shades of brown, rust and beige positioned around both sides, and lamps strategically placed for reading.
An older man sat in one of the chairs with his back to them, avidly watching the screen, and didn’t hear them approach until Ethan spoke. “Dad, would you turn the sound down? We have a visitor.”
The man looked around, startled, and immediately turned off the set with the remote, then struggled to his feet. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you coming,” he said pleasantly.
“Please don’t apologize,” Brittany said, and held out her hand. “I’m Brittany Baldwin.”
She didn’t know just what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. Nate Thorpe was tall and slender, somewhat loosely put together, like a dancer, except she could tell from the way he swayed ever so slightly when he first stood that he had a problem with his balance.
He took her hand. His grip was firm and his eyes brown like his son’s. In fact, he and Ethan looked quite a bit alike, except Nate’s hair had turned iron-gray and he wore a mustache. He also wore glasses, but his were thicker than his son’s and had tortoiseshell rims.
His eyes sparkled as his gaze traveled over her and he smiled. “My short-term memory might not be what it used to be, but I know I’d remember you if we’d ever met before.”
Good, Brittany thought. He was playful, which meant he probably wasn’t depressed.
“Brittany is here to interview for the position of medical assistant,” Ethan told him. “Remember? I told you about it this morning.”
“Of course I remember,” Nate snapped. “I may be old but I’m not senile yet.”
Brittany winced and she saw Ethan flush. “Dad, I wasn’t implying that you are—”
He paused, obviously unsure of how to handle the situation.
She wasn’t, either, but she stepped in, anyway. She and Nate were still holding hands after shaking them, and she squeezed his. “We all forget things at times,” she said lightly. “I have to write everything down if I don’t want to forget it, and this college professor son of yours didn’t even know who I was when I showed up on your doorstep right on time for this appointment. One he had set up. Everyone’s got problems, sir.”
Nate tightened his grip on her hand, then let her go. “Hire her, son, before she gets away. If I gotta be sick, I want her for a nurse.”
Ethan knew when he’d been outclassed, outwitted and outmaneuvered. What he couldn’t figure out was how it had happened! One minute he’d had everything under control and the next his own father and the nurse he hadn’t even hired yet had wrested it from him and were dictating their own terms.
Well, that was okay. He wanted Nate to make his own decisions for as long as he was able to. If Nate wanted a nurse who was young and easy to look at as well as well trained, then Ethan would at least give Ms. Baldwin a try. After all, he could always let her go if she proved inadequate.
“All right, Dad,” he said agreeably. “If Brittany and I can come to terms, she’s all yours. Now, you turn your game back on and we’ll go in the library and work things out.”
Nate grinned. “Glad to have you on board, missy,” he said, and sat back down.
Ethan involuntarily reached out to take Brittany’s arm again, but then thought better of it. There was no professional reason for him to touch her, and he liked the prickles that traveled up and down his own hand and arm when he did so altogether too much.
He hadn’t counted on hiring such an attractive nurse. Attractive! She was downright beautiful. Her rich, dark brown hair was parted in the middle and hung free to her shoulders with bangs across her forehead. He ached to run his fingers through it and feel its softness. Her eyes were grass-green and looked at