THE clinic teemed with patients during the winter months, when the town’s population doubled in size with adrenaline junkies, tourists and families seeking fun in the snow. After the morning’s steady stream of fractures, sprains and chesty coughs, I was ready for a break.
Jess—a Welsh, pixie-faced red head—had that sunshine-spreading disposition common to all excellent nurses. She was also my flat mate, best friend and, if she had her way, chief matchmaker.
‘C’mon, time for a cuppa. You look knackered,’ she said.
‘Didn’t sleep very well.’ I had little resilience to deal with her effervescence on a typical day, let alone a day when I felt cumbersome from sleep deprivation. But I followed her to the staff room anyway, accepting my fate and the unavoidable interrogation.
Excitement lit her blue eyes. ‘So, what was he like?’
I sighed. I needed caffeine to get through this. Jess didn’t miss a trick, and what could I say about Nathan Banks? ‘He was …’
I’d spent most of the night re-living my encounter with him. I’d been expecting the charisma, the good looks, even the charm. But the down-to-earth hottie with a wicked sense of humour? He’d been a revelation. Right up to the point where he’d morphed into a paranoid arse with an NDA in his pocket.
‘What?’
‘As you’d expect, really. Compelling, charming and a bit of a diva.’ Fishing the tea bag from my mug, I dropped it into the bin and wandered over to the comfy chairs.
‘Oh, come on, really?’ She pulled an apple from her bag, her flash of disbelief indicating she wouldn’t be fobbed off. I’d have to give her something.
‘Well at first he seemed quite normal, you know, grounded?’ My description grated on my own ears. How could I label such a magnetic man as ‘normal’? There was nothing ordinary about Nathan Banks, and if I closed my eyes I could still conjure the pull I’d experienced to him.
Jess leaned forward in her chair. ‘So what happened?’
‘I can’t really tell you. He asked me to sign a confidentiality agreement and I left him to party with his girlfriend.’
She huffed, clearly frustrated with trivial matters like legal documents, and flopped back in the chair. ‘I thought he was single?’
‘Didn’t look that way.’ Feigning indifference, I reached for a tattered magazine from the table. I flipped through the pages, keen to hide my own inexplicable reaction to Nathan’s relationship status.
‘Bugger. Lucky cow. Still, I can’t believe you met one of the most famous men on the planet. Is he as gorgeous in person?’
‘Jess.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘You’re terrible.’
‘And you’re flushed. You fancied him, didn’t you?’
The blush began in my chest, heat creeping up my neck in confirmation of my astute friend’s assessment. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a doctor. He was a patient. End of story.’
‘But he’s Nathan Banks!’ She grinned. ‘Did you get a selfie with him?’
‘No. He offered me premiere tickets.’
‘Really? Cool.’ She bounced in her seat.
I shook my head. ‘I turned them down.’ My shoulders slumped—my refusal had bordered on rude.
The roll of her blue eyes mocked me. ‘What? Why?’
‘I don’t know. It was the way he did it. Like I should be grateful and fall at his feet or something. Like he was bestowing his magnificence on a mere mortal.’ I shifted in my seat and took a mouthful of tea.
‘Soph, you overthink things. I know you’ve always got your guard up, but most people are nice, you know?’
I considered her spiel. I’d heard it a hundred times. The killer was, she had a point. I was the Fort Knox of guarded—serious, dependable, cautious. The yin to her yang. My friend’s bubbly personality and fun-loving antics were a source of constant fascination to me, and I knew she’d have acquired a lot more from Nathan Banks than his premiere tickets—girlfriend or no girlfriend.
When I didn’t reply, Jess continued. ‘Millions of women would happily fall at his feet, probably for much less than some free tickets, too.’
I sighed, my teeth clamping down on a thumbnail. ‘Well, I’m not most women. Trust me. He was arrogant and condescending and …’ Attractive, chivalrous, attached. How much longer did I have to tolerate her curiosity? I wanted to forget I’d ever met Nathan Banks, restore order to my thoughts and shelve the inconvenient sense of discontent he’d awakened.
‘I read online he’s been here filming.’
The magazine in my lap became irresistible. ‘Oh?’
Jess laughed. ‘I know, I know. You can’t comment. It’s not like I’m going to run to the Queenstown Gazette and sell my story.’ Her eyes took another roll and I snorted too at the absurdity of the idea.
Jess was one of the most loyal and trustworthy people I knew. There was a reason I’d selected her as a friend. My circle was small, but reliable.
‘I think Mr Banks believes we all would.’ I drained my tea and stood. I’d rather get back to work than analyse Nathan Banks any further—he’d already spent the night in my head. I was done.
Jess followed me to the kitchen area. ‘He doesn’t know us then, does he? Still, I suppose it must be horrible to have every aspect of your life publicly scrutinised and splashed all over the internet.’ Her smile fell, her face paling until the only colour came from the smattering of freckles across her nose. ‘Oh, Soph, I didn’t think. I’m sorry—I wasn’t referring to you.’
‘I know.’ I squeezed her hand. I had no secrets from Jess. She knew about my own run-ins with the press. When most teenagers were discovering the opposite sex and challenging boundaries, I was dodging journalists, protecting my brother and hiding myself away.
She changed direction. ‘Did you get to examine his magnificent bod?’ She tossed her apple core into the bin.
‘Jess. No clothes were removed during the examination of his injury.’
‘Tut, tut. You’re a doctor. You should know that all injuries are best treated with a thorough examination of the chest and abdomen. It’s called the six-pack sign. Didn’t they teach you anything at med school?’
I laughed. ‘The six-pack sign?’ I dried my mug and placed it back in the cupboard.
‘Yes, you should always check for that and that awesome V thing he has going on.’
You had to love her. She was impossible. I smiled despite myself and shook my head.
She looped her arm through mine as we left the staff room together, bumping me with her shoulder as she said, ‘You wanted to do him, didn’t you?’
I pressed my lips together to conceal my grin, but she painted an irresistible picture. I closed my eyes and he was in my head again. With a sigh, I turned to face my relentless friend. ‘Okay, he was hot enough to melt my stethoscope. Satisfied?’
She squealed, squeezing my arm. ‘I knew it!’
‘But trust me. He was an arse.’
Her face fell. ‘Really? What a shame. Well, I suppose you can’t have it all.’ We pushed through the double doors into the treatment area. ‘You coming for drinks after work?’
I shook my head. ‘Can’t. It’s my night to video chat with Matty.’ I stood at a free computer monitor and pulled up an X-ray I’d been waiting for.
Jess straightened a pot of pens on the desk next to me. ‘C’mon, Soph. You never come out.’
Distracted, I clicked through some screens. ‘I do. Sometimes.’
‘Hardly ever. You’re practically a recluse. I promise I won’t set you up this time. Just us and few friends.’
By friends, she meant her friends—the group of bubbly, out-going twenty-year-olds Jess had met in the months we’d been here. Blood pounded at my temples with the beginnings of a headache. I knew she meant well, but she saw me as a project.
Still, a drink after work wouldn’t kill me. ‘Maybe. After I call Matty.’
‘Sophia King, you need to have some fun even, if I have to administer it intravenously.’ She pulled me into a fierce, Jess-scented hug. ‘Sorry about before—foot-in-mouth disease. It’s a serious affliction,’ she whispered, and pushed her way through the double doors into the waiting room.
***
I was checking some lab results on the computer when Jess found me a few minutes later.
‘Mark wants you to review a patient,’ she said. ‘I’ve put him in the treatment room.’
‘Okay.’ I finished what I was doing and made my way to the private room. The door was ajar, and I reached for the notes from a bracket fixed to the wall.
Adrenaline slammed through me—Nathan Banks. I’d barely recovered from our last encounter and he was here. Jess loved to meddle.
Excitement and propriety battled for control of my heart rate as I peered through the narrow glass pane in the door.
Nathan leaned against the edge of the examination couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Dressed in dark blue jeans, scuffed boots and a navy merino sweater, he looked as if he’d just come from a photo shoot for a high-end magazine. For all I knew, he had.
His attention was honed on his phone as he scrolled across the screen with an agile thumb. My temperature soared as I watched the tip of his tongue touch his top lip in concentration. I was frozen at the door, my hand undecided on the handle.
He wasn’t alone. Jake too, worked on his phone, and a petite Asian woman sat in the room’s only chair, tapping away on an iPad.
‘Jake, e-mail Martin and tell him I won’t do it.’ Nathan focused on his phone as he multi-tasked, thumb-typing while he barked orders.
The Asian woman glanced up from her iPad. ‘But Nate, it’s a great role for you and your schedule for that time is free. You could easily fit it in before you begin filming the second series of Gone South.’
‘I’m not doing it. I’m sick of fucking rom-coms. I’ve told Martin I’m being typecast.’ He looked up from his phone and glared at Jake. ‘And ask Martin what happened to that World War Two drama I was interested in?’
Jake and the woman went back to their devices and their master’s bidding.
I cleared my throat as I entered. ‘Mr Banks?’
Nathan stood, pocketing the phone immediately. ‘Dr King. Thanks for seeing me.’ Residual annoyance hardened his eyes. It seemed all was not well in Hollywood.
He shook my hand, and heat travelled from his warm grasp up my arm, infecting my nerve endings with delicious tingles.
I pulled my hand away. ‘How can I help?’ My own phone vibrated in my pocket. ‘Oh, excuse me a moment.’
He’s not hot. He’s volcanic.
Jess.
‘I’m sorry.’ I replaced my phone, smiling through my embarrassment. Why he was here was anyone’s guess, but my foolish body was delighted to see him. My heart pounded a tattoo against my ribcage and my chest flushed, reminding me I had two X chromosomes and he had an X and a Y.
His smile was friendly. ‘No problem. You’ve met Jake.’ He turned to his assistant. Jake raised his hand in a salute, and the woman stood from her chair. ‘And this is Lucy Gao, my publicist.’
Lucy reached for my hand. She was exquisite—fine boned, her hair a sleek black bob, and she wore the highest heels I’d ever seen. I feared for the integrity of her ankles.
Facing Nathan, I sucked in a breath. ‘So, what can I do for you?’ I tucked his notes under my arm, grateful to resume the doctor–patient relationship now the introductions were over.
‘My hand’s been a little sore this morning. I thought I should get it checked out.’ He leaned back on the edge of the examination couch.
‘Okay, let’s have a look.’ Placing the notes on the desk, I washed my hands and moved to stand in front of him. A fresh smell of warm skin and clean clothes surrounded him, banishing the ‘hospital’ odour from the cubicle and infiltrating my senses.
Peeling back one corner of the dressing, I said, ‘Have you kept this dry?’ My voice was a low rasp. He was an arse, but a damned attractive one, and I was only human. Self-preservation kicked in and I frowned to conceal the effect he had on me.
Under the dressing, the wound was red and angry. I tossed the bandage into the bin and washed my hands again.
‘I went for a late swim last night.’ His gaze was bold, defiant.
Unspoken reprimands battered down my raging female hormones. ‘It’s infected.’ I reached for a new dressing and a can of antiseptic spray from the shelf. His wince gave me a moment’s pleasure as I blasted the wound with the spray. But my satisfaction was short-lived as my imagination took over. Had he and Claudia been skinny-dipping by moonlight, or star gazing from the lodge’s hot tub?
‘You enjoyed that, Dr King.’ His eyes were cool, but a half-smile twitched his lips. ‘You might have warned me.’
My face heated. ‘I’m sorry. I’m very busy this morning.’ And you couldn’t follow a simple instruction. ‘Are you allergic to any antibiotics?’
‘No. I’m allergic to vicious sprays though.’
I ignored his attempt to lighten the mood. ‘I’m prescribing you a seven-day course. Take them with food and if this wound gets any worse or you start to feel unwell, please seek further medical attention.’
What was wrong with me? I never behaved this brusquely with patients. Moving to the computer on the desk, I typed up a prescription before sending it to the printer. I dropped my head, staring at the wood grain of the desk as I sucked a calming breath into my labouring lungs.
Someone was a doodler. On a page torn from a notebook was a drawing featuring a tiny stick woman wearing a stethoscope and standing in front of a snow-capped mountain. I guessed the masterpiece was Jake’s work.
The script emerged from the printer and I added my signature to the bottom before holding out the sheet out to Nathan. He was on his feet again, his bulk dominating the room and I had to crane my neck to maintain eye contact. He nodded at the piece of paper I held out to him, his hands at his sides. ‘Jake can take care of that.’
I turned to his assistant in time to see him snapping a picture of Nathan and I on his phone. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Just posting photos,’ said Jake, his focus on his typing as his thumbs flew across the screen.
I gripped the paper in my hand, my teeth grinding. ‘Why?’
He glanced at Nathan, avoiding my question and sending my ire skywards. My head swivelled between the three of them, finishing on Nathan. ‘What is he doing? Why is he photographing me?’ My hands fisted on my hips as I turned to fully face all six-foot-three of him.
A single eyebrow lifted, my reaction clearly puzzling him. ‘He’s not. He’s photographing me. Jake takes care of my social media. My fans like to see what I’m up to.’ He shrugged.
My head began to pound and I spun back to Jake. ‘Was I in that shot?’
He nodded, his thumbs still flying over the screen.
‘So that picture you just took is already on the internet?’ My voice was inching closer to hysterical pitch.
‘Yes,’ said Jake, his eyes dipping to the linoleum. ‘And a couple more.’
Acid burned the back of my throat as rage bubbled up inside me. ‘Did it ever occur to you that I might not want my photo taken?’ I thrust the script at him. ‘Don’t you think you should have asked me?’
At Jake’s dumfounded silence I turned back to Nathan. A hard mass settled in my stomach.
‘Is it a problem? The fans know I’m here in New Zealand and it helps to promote the film. But you’re right.’ He took a half step closer. ‘We should have asked your permission. My apologies.’
My blood was heated but his sincere expression doused a little of my anger. ‘It may seem an overreaction, but I have good reasons for avoiding the kind of attention you actively seek.’
His jaw muscles bunched for a brief second, then he once more schooled his features to neutrality. I turned back to a sheepish Jake. ‘Please remove that photo of me from whatever sites you’ve posted it to. Did you mention my name?’
He shook his head, glancing again at Nathan.
‘Remove the photos, Jake. Could you and Lucy please wait for me outside?’
They moved to do his bidding, taking with them the last of the comfortable silence and leaving us with only the awkward. I paced to the desk and braced my fingertips on its surface. The door closed as I battled the growing tension in the room.
How dare they? I’d spent most of my life avoiding the spotlight, keeping my head down, seeking anonymity. I turned my glare on him, tempering it with clenched fists. ‘I am a very private person, Mr Banks. You of all people should appreciate that.’
His eyes were dark and stormy, like weathered glass found on the beach. ‘I do.’
I was on a roll now, my indignation freewheeling down Self-Righteous Avenue. ‘Only yesterday, you had me sign a legal document to safeguard your own privacy. And yet today you are flagrantly disregarding my own.’
He hadn’t moved, his posture relaxed and his assertions delivered with calm confidence. ‘It was thoughtless, but not done intentionally. And I have apologised.’
The urge to yell at him was so strong, I tasted blood where my teeth attacked my cheek. If I spoke my mind I could lose my job and worse, turn this into an even bigger scene for the Nathan Banks Hall of Fame. The best course of action was to get him and his entourage out of here. I forced my fists to relax, releasing a prolonged exhale of air.
‘I have other patients to see, Mr Banks. Please ensure my photograph is removed from your social media sites.’ I moved to the door, passing him with my head held high.
As I reached for the door handle, his hand shot out to circle my wrist. ‘Sophia. I’m sorry.’ His voice was hushed, contrite, and his eyes blazed with sincerity. I glanced down to where his fingers grasped me, sucking a second of comfort from the thrill of his warm skin on mine. Pulling my wrist from his hold, I kept my eyes straight ahead and left the room without another word.
Much later, when my anger had settled to a slow simmer, I returned to the treatment room. The drawing was still there on the desk, but now words accompanied the simple sketch.
I’m sorry, N.
I picked up the note, staring at it as my hand hovered over the wastepaper basket. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled when I folded the note and put it in my pocket.