Page 5 of Healed By the Grumpy Elf

"And you're transparent," she counters, dodging the napkin with practiced ease. "Admit it. You're at least a little curious."

"I'm professionally curious," I clarify. "As the school nurse. Nothing more."

"Mm-hmm," Harriet hums. She doesn’t even pretend to believe me.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch period. Harriet hops off my desk, wiping crumbs from the corners of her mouth.

"Duty calls." She sighs. "See you tomorrow?"

“You know it,” I say with a dramatic hand over my heart.

After she leaves, I tidy up my office, restocking bandages and organizing the paperwork that never seems to end. As I work, my mind wanders back to the mysterious new doctor. Despite my protests to Harriet, I can't help but wonder what he's really like. Saltford Baydoesn't get many new residents, especially not ones who practice modern Elven medicine.

It’s been six months since old doctor Wells retired and the townspeople had to rely mostly on themselves to get over their illnesses, with serious cases being sent to the larger hospital in the next town over. Having a full-time doctor in town again will be great for residents.

And if he happens to be handsome, well, that is beside the point. Professional curiosity, that's all it is. I'm simply interested in what kind of medical professional would choose our little town as their new home.

But as I prepare for the afternoon rush of playground incidents and post-lunch tummy aches, I catch myself smoothing down my unruly red curls in the small mirror on the wall.

Purely professional, I tell myself firmly, ignoring the little flutter of anticipation in my stomach. Thursday is just another school day. Nothing special about it at all.

Except, perhaps, for the chance to meet the doctor who's apparently handsome enough to make Mrs. Primrose have a conniption.

Not that I care about that part.

Not at all.

Chapter 2

Lorian

Istareatthesign above the converted Victorian building, the fresh paint gleaming in the morning light.

Saltford Bay Medical Clinic

This is mine. My clinic. My new life begins this morning, on the other side of those doors.

I look down at my watch. It's precisely eight a.m. I am on time, as always. Not a minute earlier or later than I planned. Punctuality is the foundation of professionalism, after all. My first day as the soledoctor of the sole medical clinic in the small town of Saltford Bay is about to begin.

It’s what I want, I tell myself as my hand closes on the door handle.It’s what I deserve.

I watch my own reflection on the glass, floating behind the name of the old proprietor of the clinic. I’ll have to change this soon. It’s not a professional image I want to perpetuate.

But it’s a perfect illustration of my situation. A blurry reflection behind someone else’s name.

Get on with it, man.I shake my head.You’ve made your bed. Now lie in it.

Another moment of hesitation passes as I focus on the woman moving on the other side of the glass door. Mrs. Beckham, my head nurse and receptionist, is already bustling about the reception desk.

My jaw clenches involuntarily. This isn't how I wanted to start. I'd planned to arrive before anyone else, to survey my domain in solitude.

It doesn’t matter.

When I push the door open, a small bell jingles cheerfully above my head.

"Dr. Reizenhart!" Mrs. Beckham straightens, a broad smile spreading across her face. Her amber eyes flash with an unnatural brightness that betrays her werewolf heritage. Well, partly. She’s also half-human. I know all this about her because I took the time to memorize her employee file this morning. "I was just getting everything ready for your first day."

I step inside and immediately regret it. The assault on my senses is bold and unwelcome.