“Miss Doolittle, this is the wrong thread…again.”
The handsome boss of her dreams gently chastised Dolly once more. She had been his well meaning and usually organized personal assistant for nearly a year but she was still learning all the different approaches he took in his very specialized business.
“Oops. I’m sorry. Hold on, I left the other brand on the shelf. I’ll be right back.”
A few minor thumps and crashes later, she returned with the correct item. He noticed she was limping and massaging her right elbow. A smile sprang to his appealing lips before he could stop it.
Poor bruised girl is always banging into a door or misplaced wall, but she is so pretty.
He kept that surprising stray thought to himself and resumed his role as her employer. He had asked God to get his undivided attention when “Miss Right” came along. So far, he was pretty sure he had not heard from heaven.
“Miss Doolittle, can you think of a unique way to remember when I use silk thread and with which needle? It might save time on these more delicate, uh… projects.”
She showed no signs of feeling berated by the strong and capable man who knew how to do what he did better than anyone with whom she had worked. “I’ll get back to you,” she said sweetly and then slipped into her amazing professional capacity to know what he needed before he asked.
In less than an hour of working hand in glove and anticipating his every move, she began to chat easily. “No one can sew the way you do. I believe I would know your work anywhere no matter how many years had passed.”
He chuckled, embarrassed by her observations of his talent. “I appreciate that you appreciate it.”
She was quiet for a while, watching the way he finished his so beautifully. The stitches were tiny and perfectly placed. It was impossible to miss the genius flowing through his incredible hands. “ How did you learn that special way you have of tying the thread? I’ve never seen that exact method.”
“To tell the truth, Miss Doolittle, I began by practicing on the leg of my trousers.”
“Well, at the time it just seemed convenient, while sitting, to pick a spot a few inches above my knee and sew and un-sew until it came naturally.”
As he made the final loop and tie, she automatically gathered the remnants of thread and used needles in preparation for the necessary clean up. “Didn’t you ever stick yourself?”
He stopped for a second to grin, remembering those tiny needle holes. “ Well, sure, that’s why it was such a good place to practice. Blood is a terrific teacher. You learn to stop gouging your own skin and do a better job on the material.”
After the details of the daily work were concluded and each one started to head in opposite directions until tomorrow’s schedule brought them back together again, both of their lives suddenly changed forever. A strange object came flying out of nowhere and headed right for the male person who filled her workdays but was apparently oblivious to her feminine charms. He never saw it coming.
“Watch out,” she yelled as she threw herself against him in a good imitation of a football tackle.
They both tumbled to the ground, but she managed to hit her left arm on the bus stop sign and her head on the bench. When she came to, she was back inside the private clinic they had so recently left, lying on a table under a bright light. She winced as he tenderly cleaned the deep gash in preparation for the repair.
“Oh no,” She protested feebly, “ You probably have plans, Dr. Madison. I can just run over to the emergency room.”
Oh sure, he thought, and crash into the bus this time.
Just before she closed her eyes for an induced sleep, she heard him say, “ But you are a great fan of the way I sew…Dolly dear.”
She was able to get one last reply out before darkness descended. “The 4-0 silk is on the fourth shelf on the left side of…”
To make sure she had every chance to heal fast and hurry back to her place right beside him, he concentrated on making the most perfect and tiny stitches that would hardly leave a scar. She would thank him later.
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