Seducing Sam (4 page)

Life went on and so did people. 
Worse things had happened, worse things could have happened to her, but she had
her health and her family, including a sometimes idiot young uncle and their
combined mix of eclectic friends, and for that she had to be grateful.

Yeah, she would come out the other
side smiling, stronger, supporting Ed to make sure he did the same, though he seemed
to be taking it better lately.

The big old bell at the door
bonged loudly as someone tugged on the chain.

Feeling full of renewed purpose,
Carly shook her hands briskly before wiping them on a tea towel as she walked
into the hallway and down to the front door.  Opening it, she found a tall,
blonde woman standing on the veranda holding in her hands a plastic wrapped
paper plate containing a small selection of what looked like homemade biscuits.

“Hello.”  Carly looked from the
paper plate to the woman.

She was stylishly dressed, make-up
immaculate, and the perfume that wafted from her sophisticated.  Her smile was
cool.  “Good morning.  I’m Debbie Martin.  I live in the house across the
street.”

Carly looked across at Sam’s
house. 
Poor bugger
.

Debbie didn’t even follow the
direction of her gaze.  “Not Sam’s house.  The one on the left.”  She added,
“Your right,” as though Carly wouldn’t have the brains to figure that out.  “It
has the BMW in the driveway.”

“Ah.”  Carly nodded.  “Nice car.” 
She switched her gaze back to Debbie.

“I’m here to welcome you to the
street.”  Debbie held out the paper plate.  “A little house warming present.”

“Why, thank you.”  Carly took the
plate.  “Did you make them?”

“Of course.”  Debbie looked her
right in the eye.  “Don’t you?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Lovely.  Home cooking is so much
healthier.  I could give you some tips, if you like.”

“Uh - thanks.” 
I think
. 
Carly wasn’t sure exactly what Debbie meant.  Was it a dig at her weight?  Or
not?  Or maybe Debbie was just being nice.  Geez, she had to stop jumping to
conclusions.  Look what had happened with Sam.

Determined not to be so critical,
Carly smiled.  “Ed will love these.”

As if by magic, he appeared right
behind her, “Love what?”

Carly shifted to the side a little
so that Ed could stand partially beside her.  “Debbie brought us some homemade
goodies to welcome us to the neighbourhood.  Wasn’t that kind of her?”

At the sight of the biscuits, Ed’s
eyes lit up.  “You bewdy!  Thanks, Debs.”

“That’s Debbie.”  Her smile was
exceedingly frostier.  It certainly didn’t meet her eyes.

“Right.”  Ed stuck out his hand. 
“Ed Miller.”

Amused, Carly watched as Debbie
placed only the tips of her fingers in Ed’s palm.  Regardless of the fact that
he washed his hands thoroughly, he often had oil stains on them from the
motorcycle shop.

Ed simply shifted his hand and
took a hearty hold of the delicate hand Debbie proffered, pumping it enthusiastically. 
“I love eating home cooked food, as Carly will tell you.”

“Oh yeah, he does,” Carly agreed.

Sooner than could be considered
polite, Debbie retrieved her hand.  “Lovely.”  She glanced at her palm,
apparently relived to find it clean and not slicked with oil.  “Been working in
the garage, Mr Miller?”

“Ed, please.”  He already had the
corner of the plastic wrap pulled back and was pulling two biscuits from the plate. 
“Nah, I own a bike shop.  Fix ‘em up, sell ‘em.”

“A second-hand push bike shop?”

“Motorbikes.  Some new, some
second-hand.  Keeps me busy and out of trouble.”  Popping one of the biscuits
whole in his mouth, he managed to say around it, “Mostly, anyway.”

“I see.”  Face expressionless, she
studied him.

Deciding it was time to intervene
before Ed said something he shouldn’t, Carly neatly re-stuck the plastic wrap
around the plate.  “So, Debbie, you’ve lived in this street long?”

“Since Brian and I got married ten
years ago.”

“It’s a lovely place.  Very old
fashioned.”  Carly relaxed against the door frame.  “Old stone or wood houses,
picket fences, beautiful gardens, tree-lined road.  It’s like stepping back in
time.”

“It is a peaceful street.”  Debbie
looked squarely at Ed before transferring her gaze down to Carly.  “And we’d
like to keep it that way.”

“I agree.”

“Quietness is valued here.” Debbie
looked back at Ed.  “I see you have a motorcycle.”

Now Carly knew what she was
getting at, no doubt fearing that Ed having a Harley would disturb the peace. 
It was common misconception, but before she could explain to Debbie that
roaring bikes at all hours weren’t going to be a problem, Ed smacked his lips
in loud appreciation and used the side of his hand to wipe the crumbs from his
mouth.

“Bloody good tucker, Debs.”

Uh-oh
.  That didn’t bode
well.  Discreetly, Carly nudged him warningly in the side of his foot with her
shoe, but it was too late.

Ed could never resist stirring
trouble.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell
all
my friends to keep the noise of their bikes down when they visit,
which is most nights.  After work, you know.”

Debbie’s face tightened.

“Most of them won’t all have their
bikes here at once, some of the bikes have been impounded by the police.”

Carly sighed.

“Really?” Debbie wore an open
expression of disdain.

Determined to nip this in the bud
before it escalated out of control, which had happened before with Ed’s warped
sense of humour, Carly sought to change the subject quickly.  “I hear that you
once had a famous author visiting here, Debbie.”

Her gaze switched to Carly.  “A
famous author?”

“Sophie Willow.  Writes romances. 
Is she related to Sam by any chance?

“Sexy ones,” Ed put in, just as
determined to keep stirring.  “”Really sexy, if you know what I mean.”  He
actually leered.

Carly gave him another discreet
kick in the foot.

“Ah, yes.”  Debbie had a distinct
expression of distaste.  “Sophie Willow, Sam’s cousin.  She writes those smutty
books.”  Her eyes narrowed as she regarded Carly assessingly.  “I don’t like
smut.  It’s so degrading.”

“Huh.”  Carly hoped like hell that
Ed would hold his tongue.

“So, do you like to read?” 
Debbie’s gaze now encompassed them both.

Ed smiled widely.

“I prefer thrillers and horror,” Carly
said hastily.

“Interesting.”  Unfortunately,
there was to be no reprieve, because Debbie asked Ed, “And what do you read? 
Apart from magazines?”

Talk about insults.  Right then Carly
decided to let Ed have free rein.  There was only so much she was going to
allow, and openly insulting Ed wasn’t a of part of it.

“Porn,” Ed replied.

Debbie’s mouth fell open.

“Not hard porn,” Ed clarified, “Soft
porn.”

Her face froze.  “Really.”

Ed nodded enthusiastically.  “So,
you see, I read more than just motorcycle magazines.”  He added with pride, “I
like to mix my selections.”

Wait for the coup de grace.

“Up here for thinking.”  Ed tapped
the side of his head.  “And down there for - you know.”  One sudden thrust of
his skinny hips.

That was enough for Debbie. With
one furious, “Well, I never!” she turned and stormed off the veranda and down
the path.

“That’s probably very true,” Ed commented.

“Well, there goes one neighbour.” 
Carly waggled the plate in her hand.  “At least she let you keep the biccies.”

“Hey, I’d have licked them all in
one second flat if it looked like she was going to take them back.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

“Somehow, I feel uplifted.  Ready
to face the day.  Energised!”  Whistling, Ed plucked the plate from Carly’s
hand, swung around and disappeared back into the house.

Carly laughed.  If there was one
man guaranteed to make lemonade out of lemons, it was Uncle Ed.

About to follow him into the
house, she heard the sound of a small motorbike and saw the mailman pull up at
the letter box and push some letters into the slot.  He waved cheerfully to
her, and she returned it, feeling more uplifted herself. 

Noticing the dead plants and
straggly flowers lining the path as she walked down it, she decided to do some
digging and re-plating on the weekend.

Retrieving the letters from the
box, she heard a “’Morning, Carly.”

Looking up, she saw Sam standing
by his letterbox, a large envelope in his hands and an easy smile on his face.

 “’Morning, Sam,” she called back.

Raising his hand, he nodded to her
and went back to his house.

His simple, friendly greeting had
been more sincere than Debbie’s visit, and it definitely left her feeling a lot
warmer.

Smiling, she walked back up the
path, feeling better than she had in weeks.  Maybe things were finally looking up.

Chapter 2

 “What is about you that attracts
women?” Louis sloshed the mop in the bucket as he readied it to clean up the
spilt blood on the floor.

“No idea.”

“Of course, the whole good-looking
thing wouldn’t be a draw card.”

Shrugging, Sam busied himself
ensuring all the needles had been safely put in the sharps container before he
gathered up the dressing pack.  It wouldn’t be the first time a carelessly
discarded needle had caused a needle-stick injury, and he wasn’t about to let
himself become a casualty.

“Those two women in the opposite
bay have been staring holes in the arse-end of your pants for the last fifteen
minutes.”  Louis drew the mop over the blood, first smearing it around before
finally mopping it up.

“Have they?”  Sam checked the
clock.  Not long until knock-off time.

“Yeah.  How can you not feel it?”

“Because I’m busy doing my job?”

Louis ignored that reply.  “If I
had women staring at me like that all the time, I’d be a happy man.”

“You think?”

“I know.”  Louis moved the mop up
and down in the bucket to dislodge some of the blood.  “I’d have dates every
night of the week.”

“That would kind of cramp your
style, seeing as how you work some nights and some days.”

“I’d work it out.”

“Having a woman fall asleep on you
because you arrive at two in the morning for the date isn’t a compliment, you
know.”  Sam shoved the dressing pack in the bin, stripping off his gloves and
throwing them in with it.

“I bet you don’t have dates
falling asleep on you.”  There was a distinct envious tone in Louis’s voice.

Pausing, Sam glanced at him.  The
medical orderly was paunchy, short, and his face craggy, but he had a sense of
humour and was generally a nice bloke.  “Susie in reception was watching you
earlier tonight.”

“She was?”  Louis perked up, only
to sigh and step on the handle of the mop bucket, drawing the mop strands
through the rollers.  “I doubt it.”

“Have you ever asked her out?” 
Sam headed for the wash basin.

“No.  What would she see in
someone like me?  I’m not you, Sam.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut for
several seconds as he scrubbed his hands.  Why did everyone think it was so
bloody great to be him?  Sometimes he wished women wouldn’t stare at him.  He
felt more at ease with those who just wanted to be his friend, who could enjoy
a laugh and move on than he did with the amount of women who eyed him like he
was a piece of prime steak.

Drying his hands, he turned to
study Louis.  The orderly had no idea how much simpler life could be when
people took you seriously, rather than seeing you as an empty airhead.  Then
again, the grass always did look greener on the other side of the fence.

Tossing the wadded up paper hand towel
into the bin, he crossed over to Louis and laid a hand on his shoulder.  “Ask
Susie out, Louis.  You might be surprised.”

“You think she’d really go out
with me?”  He glanced around as though a little worried that someone might
overhear them.

Nurses bustled past, a few of them
giving Sam bright-eyed looks.

“Yeah, I do,” Sam replied. 
“Besides, what have you got to lose?”

“My dignity?”

“More than that.”

Louis looked uncertain.

“Would you let an opportunity pass
you by just because you’re worried she’ll turn you down?”  Sam shook his head. 
“Louis, ask her.  I’ve seen her watching you.”

“Really?”  Louis’s expression
brightened.

“You’re a good bloke.  She sees
that.  Susie’s a nice woman and definitely not stupid.  She knows a good bloke
when she sees one.”

Louis’s face brightened even
more.  “You really reckon she’d go out with me?”

“I do.”

“All right.”  Beaming, Louis
slapped the mop on the floor and scrubbed with renewed energy.  “All right,
I’ll do it.  When she comes in at seven o’clock, I’m gonna ask her out.”

Smiling, Sam moved away.  He knew
for sure that Susie would jump at the chance to go out with Louis, mostly
because she’d been pumping Sam for information several days before.  Too shy to
approach Louis herself, the grey-haired receptionist felt right at home asking
‘dear Sam’, whom she looked upon as a son.

Knowing that Susie was going to be
over the moon in the morning, Sam informed the other nurses that he was going for
a break and made his way to the canteen.

Entering, he spotted several other
nurses and a couple of orderlies all sitting down for a drink and a bite to
eat.  A couple of the nurses waved him over, and after pouring a cup of hot
coffee from the urn and taking a piece of cake from the platter on the table,
he joined them.

“Hi,” Max greeted him.  “How goes
it in the ER?”

“Busy.”  Sam sat down with a sigh
of relief.  “Feet are killing me.”

“I’d have thought having such big
feet would mean that your weight was more distributed, easing the pressure.”

“Sam doesn’t have big feet,”
Dorothy objected.  “They’re just the right size for his height.  He’s a big
man.”  She patted his shoulder, allowing her hand to slide down his arm.

Wanting to shrug off her touch, he
simply smiled and sought to change the subject.  “Anyone got plans for the
weekend?”

“Working the weekend,” Max
responded.

“I’ve no plans,” Alice replied
quickly.  “You, Sam?”

Max grinned.

Unfortunately, Sam didn’t see it
until it was too late and he’d already replied, “Nope.”

“How about we go to the movies?”
Dorothy cut off Alice before she could do more than open her mouth.

Alice glared at her.

“Uh - I’m not really-” Sam began,
seeing the trap yawning wide.

“I could pick you up at seven, we
can catch the seven thirty movie, have a drink afterwards.”  Dorothy leaned
closer, her lashes dropping to cover her eyes.  However, it wasn’t enough to
cover the gleam of lust in her eyes, and Sam was still seeking a polite way to
refuse the invitation when she stood up and said, “I’ll see you Saturday, Sammy.”

Alice’s mouth tightened as she
stood abruptly, gathering her cup and plate.  “I’m going back upstairs.  See
you guys later.”

As soon as the girls were out of
earshot, Max laughed.

Sam punched him in the arm.  “You
could have helped!”

“Ow!”  Still laughing, Max rubbed
his arm.  “You could have refused.”

“I was trying.”

“You need to be blunt.”

“I don’t want to hurt Dorothy.”

“Look, you need to set boundaries.”

“Says the man who is now on his
fourth wife.”

“I haven’t set boundaries on
wives.”

Sam scowled at him.

Max held up his hands.  “Just
telling it like it is.”

“As if I’m going to follow your
advice.”

“I’d say I have way more
experience than you.”

“And look where it got you.”

“And look where
yours
got
you
.” 
Placing one hand on his chest, Max fluttered his eyelashes.  “Oh, Sam!  I’m
taking you out to the movies, you big boy, you, and then I’m going to ply you
with drink and ravish your wanger, you big hunk, you!”

Groaning, Sam slumped in the
chair.  “Oh God, how do I get out of this?”

Grinning, Max lifted his coffee
mug.  “Do you know how many young blokes would kill to be in your over-sized
sneakers?”

“I don’t care.  I like Dorothy, I
just don’t want to date her.”

“You didn’t want to date Tiffany,
either,” Max said.  “Or Sandra, or Mandy, or Trina.”  He took a sip of coffee. 
“You did want to date Linda.”

“Yeah, but that didn’t last for
long.”

“It was the sex, wasn’t it?”

Sam gave him a dirty look.  “I am
not entertaining you with sex details.”

“Oh, come on.  Get it off your
chest.”  Max leered.  “You know you want to.”

Stretching out his legs, Sam let
his feet flop to the sides and his arms hang down each side of the chair as he
leaned back.  “Come on, Max.  There are plenty of other blokes in this hospital
- in any hospital, for that matter - who are better looking than me, who have
more than me.  I don’t know why I’m…”

Max waggled his eyebrows
encouragingly.

Not wanting to finish the
sentence, for it sounded too egotistical, Sam waved his finger in a ‘so on’
gesture.

“Beautiful?” Max guessed.

Sam scowled.

“Gorgeous?  Too cute for words?” 
Leaning forward, Max pinched his cheek.  “So all-gosh adorable?”

“No!”

Laughing, Max sat back.  “The
scary thing is, you really have no idea, do you?”

“Well, I sort of can, but there’s
more to me than just looks.”

“Ooohhh, look who thinks he’s just
too handsome for words!”

“You’re going to the morgue in a
minute, and you won’t be breathing.”

“See, there’s that undercurrent of
danger that just attracts the women.”

Shaking his head, Sam looked at
his friend.  “Seriously, Max, I get tired of this.”

Max stopped laughing.  “You don’t
want to find a girlfriend?  A wife?”

“Well yes, but not like this.”

“I have news for you, friend.  If
you don’t meet girls, you’re not going to find one.”

“No, I mean like
this
.”  He
tapped the tabletop with his finger.

“The table?” Max asked,
bewildered.

“No, you nong.”  Exasperated, Sam
blew out a breath.  “I mean, I feel like the girls hitting on me aren’t
interested in
me
.  They see the package, not the contents.”

“This is very disturbing.  You’re
starting to sound like a girl.”

“You’re useless.  Maybe I should
go see your wife for advice.”

“If my wife saw you, she’d divorce
me.  I’d rather you didn’t.  I like her cooking.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh.  “You
are such an arsehole.”

“Hey, I don’t deny it.”  Max took
another mouthful of coffee, swooshing it around his mouth before swallowing. 
“So how was your date with Trina?  I heard you were all ready for her when she
came around.  Didn’t bother to get dressed, just waited for her in your
underwear, which, according to gossip, didn’t leave much to detail.”  He widened
his eyes in fake awe.  “Big in the department, so they say.”

“Are you sure you only swing one
way?” Sam queried.

“Oh yeah.  I just like to listen
to gossip.  Be surprised what you hear.”  He gave a ‘come on’ gesture with his
fingers.  “So, your date?”

“That’s just the thing.”  Sam
sighed.  “It wasn’t a date.”

“Good grief, you just shagged her
on arrival?  Mate, I am so proud of you.”  Max clapped him on the shoulder.  
“You also saved a quid on dinner.  Good thinking.”

“No,” Sam retorted.  “I mean, I
didn’t know we even had a date.”

“Look, I know you’re absentminded
sometimes, but forgetting your date?  That’s poor.  I may have to take back my
admiration.”

“Do you know how hard you are to
talk to?”

“I’m sorry.  Give me another
chance.  Exactly how did you forget your date?  Or non-date, whatever the case
may be?”

Sam rubbed his brow tiredly. 
“Trina had mentioned going to dinner last Friday night, and I said maybe.  She
took that as a ‘yes’, and next thing I know, she’s knocking on my door.  I
answer it-”

“In your snazzy boxers.”

“Yeah.  She took one look and I
couldn’t tell if her bright eyes were to do with tears or delight.  I had to
pretend I’d forgotten and hurry and get dressed.”

“And you did that, why?”

“So I wouldn’t hurt her feelings.”

“See, Sam, this is the problem.” 
Max pointed at him.  “You’re too nice.  Too concerned about other’s feelings. 
You’re a door mat.”

“Oh, I don’t know-”

“The women targeting you want to
wipe not just their feet on you, but their bodies.  All over.  You need to take
charge, Sam.  Show them you’re not about to be bossed around.  That you’re
the
man.”

“That’s the problem.  They think I
am
the man. For them.”

“So you have to show them you’re
not.  Get tough.  In fact.”  Max leaned forward.  “March up to the medical ward
right now and tell Dorothy you can’t go out on Saturday.”

“That’d embarrass her.”

“Make something up.”

“Such as?”

“Tell you have an STD.”

Sam raised one eyebrow.

“Several of them, in fact.  Your
wanger is out of commission.”

“I don’t actually need my wanger
to show them a good time.”

Max threw up his hands.  “Don’t
tell them that!”

“I wouldn’t tell them what you
said, either.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help solve
your girl problem.”

“By making me a walking
advertisement for irresponsible sex?”

“Don’t blame me when they start
selling tickets to date you.”

Sam sighed.  “I’ll have to think
of something, some nice way to break the date.”

“Yeah, before Alice scratches
Dorothy’s eyes out.”

Distaste filled Sam at the thought
of any woman getting into a physical fight.  “Now that is a major turn-off.”

Max looked at him with interest. 
“You’ve never wanted to see two women have a fight over you?”

“It’s demeaning.”

“For you?”

“No.”  Sam drained his coffee and
stood up.  “For them.”

“You’re a strange man.”  Max also
stood.  “Well, I better get back upstairs, make sure no one has popped their
catheter bags or blown their IV cannulas.”

They went their separate ways.

On the way to the ER, Sam was
joined by Selina, a pretty nurse whom he got on with and who had a steady
boyfriend and absolutely no interest in him as anything more than a friendly
workmate.  At ease, he chatted to her until they entered the ER.  The rest of
the shift passed and finally it was time to knock-off.

Leaving the hospital, Sam lifted
his head and breathed deeply of the night air.  After the confines of the
hospital, the combined scents of human bodies, blood, disinfectant and soap, he
found it refreshing, even if it did contain the hint of exhaust fumes.