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“Why would you think I was going with Dr. Drake?”
Marcy looked puzzled, then embarrassed. “I thought that break-up thing was just a rumor to throw off everyone at the hospital. He bought a ticket at the head table next to you as soon as I put out the invitation list two weeks ago.”
“He did?” Stephanie couldn’t imagine why. “Marcy, are you sure? Attending galas and balls is not on Dr. Drake’s list of favorite pastimes. He’s probably never put on a tux in his life.”
“Not that he needs one.” Marcy grinned. “Scrubs suit him just fine.”
Yes, they did. More than that, they defined him. He was a medical professional inside and out. She should know. She’d seen him both ways.
Stephanie turned away to hide her reaction to memories of Jason both in and out of his scrubs.
“Thanks, Marcy, for bringing in my dress.” As she rezipped the garment bag she couldn’t stop herself from imagining how Jason’s hand on her back would feel as he unzipped the dress for her.
What would he look like in a tux, tie hanging loose around his neck, pearl buttons undone enough to show the firmness of his well-defined pecs?
Of course she would enjoy removing any type of clothing he wore. She had loved peeling off his scrub shirt that first time.
And the feel of his well-washed T-shirt, still warm from his body, wrapped around her own body … It gave her quivers just thinking about it.
Jason wore casual clothes with the charismatic attitude of the ultimate bad boy. The aged jeans and T-shirts he wore after work and on weekends molded to his rebellious personality as well as his athletic shape.
All those hours he spent scaling mountains and fighting white-water rapids made for sure-footed grace and iron-hard muscles.
In a moment of passion, she’d asked to go with him one weekend. When he suggested an Independence Day campout instead of the gala she’d traded in high heels for hiking boots, eaten charbroiled burgers to the music of night birds, then watched the stars pop against a velvet sky. She’d never seen anything so spectacular.
That was the weekend the baby had been conceived.
With great self-control, Stephanie turned her thoughts from fantasy to reality.
There would be no happy little traditional family for her child. But Stephanie knew from first-hand experience that the traditional two-parent family didn’t automatically equal a happy childhood. Not when the parents couldn’t find time for their child.
Without thinking, her hand drifted to her round belly. Her child would never suffer for lack of parental attention. She would make sure of it.
After an hour of distraction when he should have been researching, Jason headed downstairs to the E.R. for some advice. His friend Mike had had a similar dilemma only a year ago. Apparently he’d figured things out, since he was now married with a new baby.
He and Mike Tyler had been roommates after Mike had answered his ad for a roommate to share expenses during pre-med. Although neither of them were big conversationalists, after years of rooming, which had lasted through pre-med, medical school and residency, Mike was the closest friend Jason had. Mike had introduced Jason to hiking and rafting all those years ago, giving him an effective outlet for letting off steam and finding an occasional glimpse of inner peace.
Now Mike worked the E.R. at Sheffield Memorial, thriving on the excitement, while Jason preferred the details and intrigue of diagnostics and research.
Both he and Mike had come a long way since they’d had to share one winter coat between the two of them in their younger days.
Last year Mike had married into an instant family of two girls and a boy, along with a beautiful, witty wife who’d just given birth to their son eight weeks ago.
Somehow Mike made it work.
Jason waited while Mike examined a chef’s gashed forefinger and ordered a tetanus shot along with a couple of stitches.
When Mike was finally free, Jason asked, “You up for a hike this weekend? I’ve got some relationship questions to ask you.”
A good, hard climb in the crisp mountain air would clear his head.
“Can’t. I’ve got to take the five-year-old to a birthday party. Tea party theme. The birthday girl’s father has promised grownup drinks for the parents while we wait.” He sighed, but his eyes sparkled with happiness. “The sacrifices of fatherhood.”
Jason couldn’t imagine himself at a little girl’s birthday party, making small talk with other parents. Even the thought of being so domestically entrapped made him fidget.
“We’ve got the waiting room cleared out. Ask me now.”
Jason shifted from foot to foot, then just blurted it out. “When a woman says she needs more, what does she mean?”
“More, huh? That’s a tricky one.” Mike rubbed his chin. “Are we talking about Dr. Montclair?”
Jason chose to ignore the smirk Mike didn’t bother to hide. “Yes. Who else would it be?”
“She strikes me as a straightforward woman. Why don’t you ask her for specifics?”
Jason thought that one over. By his evaluation, their latest conversation hadn’t been too straightforward.
“You’re not much help.”
“Guys generally aren’t when it comes to women. Why don’t you come by the house on Sunday and ask Caroline? She’s good at this sort of thing.”
“Caroline doesn’t like me.”
“She’s forgiven you.” Mike clapped him on the shoulder. “Never tell a pregnant woman she should cut back on the chocolate, even if she should. The closer they get to their due dates, the testier they get.”
“Lesson learned.”
A nurse peeked into the lounge. “Dr. Tyler, we’ve got a patient for you.”
Jason took the stairs two at a time, but the dank, enclosed staircase didn’t give him what he needed.
He needed to work off some excess energy in the fresh air and sunshine. Wide open spaces normally cleared his cramped brain.
For safety reasons Jason never hiked alone. But he was tempted to risk it. That was what women did—made men do foolish things.
No, he wouldn’t risk going it alone with no one to call on for help. No woman was worth being stuck stranded on a mountain with a broken leg. Or a broken heart.
No. Not a broken heart. He would have to love Stephanie for that to happen, and he’d promised long ago to never be that foolish again.
Stephanie’s phone rang, showing Jason’s office number. He never called. He was a face-to-face kind of guy. Warily, she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Stephanie, when you said you needed …” He paused, giving Stephanie time to catch up with his one-sided conversation. “What is it you need?”
What should she answer? I need you to show me your heart? I need you to love me? I need you to put me first in your life? “I need you to attend a sensitivity training class.”
“A what?”
“A sensitivity class.”
“Why?”
“You’ve got another complaint filed against you, I’m afraid.” Yes, that sounded nice and businesslike. Stephanie was rather proud of her control.
“So?”
“So the hospital is being very careful about these things nowadays, particularly because of the lawsuit. The class is mandatory.”
“Or what? You’ll fire me?”
At the thought of never seeing Jason again Stephanie felt her stomach drop. “No, Jason. Of course not—not you, anyway. But showing that we insist upon a consistent policy will help with the lawsuit and our malpractice insurance. I need you to cooperate with me.”
“What’s the complaint?”
“Mrs. Canover said you were rude to her.”
“Remembering Mrs. Canover, I would have to agree with her.”
“Jason, we’ve discussed this before. A large part of patient care is attitude. We treat the whole patient and the family, not just the illness.”
“No, that’s not in my job description. My job is to find the problem and fix it. Has Mrs. Canover’s son had a relapse? Difficulty breathing? Rash? Fever? Sore throat?”
“No. None of that. Her son is recovering nicely.”
“Then what’s her complaint?”
“Did you really tell her she should stick with growing African Violets instead of children?”
“The woman demanded that I give her three-year-old son allergy shots twice a week rather than getting rid of her house-plants. What would you have said?” Jason had been staggered when the woman had refused to give up the prize-winning African Violets that had been passed down through generations for the health of her son, and hadn’t hesitated to give his opinion.
Frankly, Stephanie agreed. But, as her grandmother insisted, there was a polite way to say everything. “I’m not sure, but I probably wouldn’t have implied she was as dumb as the dirt in her violet pots.”
“Who will take care of my patients while I’m stuck in a classroom being lectured to by an idiot who has never diagnosed an illness in his life?”
“You will. I’ve scheduled the class for your off hours this weekend.”
“I’ve already got plans.”
An unexpected spike of jealousy shot through Stephanie. The thought of Jason with another woman sent her temples to pounding.
Not good for the baby, she reminded herself. She took a deep breath. “Cancel them. I’m sure your date will understand. After all, you’re a doctor. Any woman who makes plans with you should expect to be flexible.”
“Just because we agreed to see other people doesn’t mean I am.” He lowered his voice a half-octave, probably because he knew how she liked that. “I was hoping you might want to get away this weekend. We could go to my cabin. We haven’t been up there since Independence Day. I could make lasagna.”
“Our personal relationship is over, remember?”
“Stephanie, just because our sexual liaison is over it doesn’t mean—” He swallowed hard enough for her to hear him. “Doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends.”
His voice sounded strained. As honest and forthright as he was, he wasn’t good at voicing what others wanted to hear.
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re just saying that to get me back into your bed, aren’t you?”
“Busted.” He sounded awkward, sheepish. “You’ve got to admit we’re awesome together.”
She looked up, as if searching for an answer in the ceiling tiles. “Jason—”
“I know you have a lot going right now, Stephanie. We could both use a little fun to put things into perspective.” He sounded serious. “No strings. No commitments. Just a weekend away. A glass of wine under the stars and a few laughs between friends.”
That had been more than enough for her only a few short months ago.
They had shared some fun times. His quirky sense of humor was right in line with hers. Together they had snickered and chortled at things the rest of the world didn’t get. It had felt good to be understood.
“There’s more to life than grins and giggles, Jason.”
She took off her glasses to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll email you the details on the class.”
Stephanie spent the rest of the afternoon familiarizing herself with Jason’s patient files, all the while marveling at his brilliance. His reports made for fascinating reading. They were thorough and detailed—and, best of all, unbiased. He didn’t slant the facts to support his hypotheses, and he included details of wrong assumptions as readily as right ones.
While all doctors were supposed to be this objective, Stephanie had never found one whose ego didn’t shade the facts at least a little bit until Jason.
Lost in work, she didn’t realize the time until Marcy buzzed her over the intercom. “Just letting you know I’m leaving for the day. Should I bring in your messages?”
“Yes, please.” Stephanie glanced at her watch. Where had the time gone?
Marcy brought in a fistful of messages and notes to be returned and laid them in the in-box on Stephanie’s desk.
Stephanie gave them a casual glance. “Anything urgent?”
“Just the usual. Dr. Sim in Obstetrics wants you to set up an appointment with her. She didn’t mention the topic of discussion. Do I need to get information on the meeting agenda?”
“No, Dr. Sim and I have talked previously.” Soon everyone would know why she had appointments with the obstetrician. But not tonight. Tonight her baby was still her little secret.
Stephanie folded that particular note and slipped it into her lab coat’s pocket. “Anything else?”
“Another in-house complaint against Dr. Drake.”
“Can it wait until tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’m sure it can. And your mother’s personal assistant called. Should she send the car here for you tonight?”
Stephanie thought of answering no, saying she would drive herself. But she suddenly drooped with exhaustion—mentally as well as physically. She didn’t know how late it would be before she could gracefully exit the Baby Isaac Benefit.
While she had intended to run home to do make-up and hair, the drive would steal minutes from her day. She could pin her ponytail into a ballerina bun, and she had sufficient cosmetics to do an acceptable make-up job here at the office. That way she could squeeze in a much-needed rest first.
While she didn’t have a lot of time for a nap, she didn’t need a lot. Just a few minutes to prop up her feet and close her eyes.
As a resident, she had perfected the art of napping. Fifteen minutes had always been enough to restore her flagging energy and weary mind.
“Tell her yes. I would appreciate having the car sent here. And keep my office phone on hold.”
