Chapter 6 Grateful

• Mirabel blushed and chastised herself.
• "Stop behaving like a hormonal teenager. You are in a stranger's house who saved your drunk ass last night from god knows who." She thought to herself.
• Rickard looked at Mirabel as she settled down opposite him. She didn't carry herself with an air of self-importance that most models did, well at least how Hannah did.
• Her auburn hair was now piled in a messy bun on top of her head and Rickard noticed that she wasn't wearing a speck of makeup yet still her skin was glowing. Her green-blue orbs fixated on him and he stared back at her and raised his eyebrow.
• He almost laughed as he saw a blush creep up her neck and cheeks and she looked down. Even though his heart had sworn off the woman for the time being as it still recuperated from the wounds Hannah had inflicted on it, yet his body stirred in response to the beautiful woman sitting opposite to him.
• He stabbed the pancakes with a little more force than necessary as he chased away those thoughts from his head.
• "What is your name?" Rose asked as she settled down next to Mirabel.
• "It is Mirabel. How did I–“ Mirabel didn't know how to frame her question.
• "Oh sweetie, Rickard helped you home after you had a little too much to drink," Rose said.
• "Thank you," Mirabel said to Rickard not knowing what else to do. She wanted to explain that this was not how she usually lived her life.
• She mentally cursed and then the reality of her life crashed onto her like a tsunami. Her clouded brain, fogged even more due to this handsome married man in front of her, cleared up and she took in a sharp breath.
• Even though it was a Sunday she needed to go in check on her patients. She didn't have any planned Surgeries today.
• “Are you okay?" Rickard asked as she saw the flustered expression on her face.
• Mirabel got up and pulled out her phone and realized it was dead.
• "I need a charger please,” Mirabel asked as she ran a hand through her hair.
• "It is in the kitchen," Rose said but Rickard cut her off.
• "You sit Rose. I will help her.” Rickard said as he grabbed his juice and motioned her to follow him. Mirabel followed him to the kitchen.
• What was wrong with her? How could she be this careless and reckless? She completely forgot about her duties. She needed to pull herself together. She knew her brother would have been disappointed in her current behavior. She tried to control the tears as they pooled in her eyes at the thought of her brother.
• "Here," Rickard said as he handed her the cord with the charger still plugged.
• "Look I am so sorry for last night. Thank you so much for saving me from that man." Mirabel said hurriedly as she plugged in her phone and waited for the phone to start up.
• Rickard crossed his legs and leaned against the counter with his hip.
• "I was that man."
• "What?" Mirabel almost yelled as she grabbed her phone from slipping out between her fingers.
• "Yeah, though I didn't attack you. I was only steadying you as you crashed into me." Rickard said as he shrugged and took in a sip of his juice. He was intrigued by this woman and the thought that she was a model from her looks became a less possibility as he took in her demeanor.
• "Jesus!" Mirabel muttered as a fresh wave of heat made its way up her cheeks. "I apologize--" She paused, waiting for him to clear her on his full name.
• “Rickard. Rickard Clark."
• "Well. I apologize Mr. Clark and I should apologize to Mrs. Clark as well for imposing on you guys last night. I just have a lot going on."
• "Mrs. Clark? That is my best friend's Mrs," Rickard said as he pointed towards the dining room and Mirabel wanted the earth to open up and swallow her.
• "Look, Mr. Clark, I apologize for everything. I just want you to know that this is not how I go around, getting drunk and passing out. I am grateful to you for bringing me home last night but right now I need to get back to work." Mirabel said as she looked at the messages and missed calls on her phone.
• "You don't need to explain anything to me, Mirabel," Rickard said as he stood up straighter. "I will drop you off at work.” He finished, as he tried to comprehend this woman. He was still sticking to the model theory and tried to keep his distance.
• "Thank you so much. My car is still parked at the bar." Mirabel said as she made a mental note to get it after work.
• “Where do you work?"
• *Springworth Hospital.” Mirabel said as she reluctantly pulled the plug out of her phone.
• "Oh,” Rickard said as he grimaced at the name of that damned hospital but his interest piqued as to what she did there. A nurse, a receptionist? Those roles did not suit her looks.
• "Again with the judgment." Rickard mentally cursed himself.
• "Yeah. I work as a neurosurgeon there," Mirabel said absently as she pulled on her jacket.
• Aaron was speechless.
• Mirabel looked up and her temper flared. She knew that look very well, the one on Aaron's face. She got it all the time during her internship and residency.
• It was the look of "How can a pretty face like you be a doctor?"
• Mirabel never understood that concept. How did her looks dictate her career? Was it a sin to have brains with good looks? She knew she wasn't bad looking. Her mother had been a beautiful lady and she got her height from her dad because her mom ended short of 5 feet 4 inches. Just because she had a pretty face screwed on a tall and lean body automatically people presumed she was some model, not that anything was wrong with that.
• Models had it tough when it came to careers just as any other person pursuing their career with passion.
• Mirabel looked at Rickard squarely and raised one of her eyebrows.
• "Nothing. Let's go. I will drop you off on my way to the office." He said as he looked away from her scalding gaze. He knew he had pissed her off and he was impressed to see this fiery side of her though last night's events had already revealed that. He wondered how she must be in bed with her wild auburn hair.
• "Get your head out of the gutter," Rickard muttered.
• "You said something?" Mirabel asked.
• "No,”
• "You can say it. I know that look."
• "What look?"
• "The one you gave me when I told you my job,”
• "I didn't give you any look."
• "Your jaw was hanging."
• Rickard ignored her and opened his car door for her. She huffed and got in. Rickard stifled a laugh. This woman sure was something.
• Rickard got in and decided to pull her leg some more. "So you get that "look" all the time, I mean from the patients also? Do people say something as well?"
• "Nah, even the look gets wiped clean off their faces once they realize I will be the one holding a scalpel over their open skull."
• He laughed out loud and his brain halted. He hadn't laughed like this in a long time. Even the past year with Hannah had been stressful because of the increasing demands of her career. He also realized from the past hour or so, being with her, Hannah didn't cross his mind once.
• They reached the hospital and Rickard stepped out along with her.
• "Thank you once again for everything,” Mirabel said and then she looked at the hospital and sighed.
• Rickard didn't miss the look of utter pain across her eyes. What was her story? This damn hospital seemed like hell to him. Even he felt the dull ache set in once again.
• With one final smile, Mirabel walked inside, without a backward glance and Rickard suddenly felt cold. The dull ache became more pronounced and all his sorrow came back and drowned him. It was like she was holding his head above the flood of sorrow.
• "Stop being sappy Clark." Rickard thought and got back in the car.