Emergency Engagement

Quinton stepped aside and let her pass. A moment later she was gone, once again having walked out of his life.

The office manager approached. “Who was that?”

“Your food’s here.”

His office manager cocked her head. “Oh. She’s not the usual delivery girl.”

So Beth didn’t deliver food? Maybe she did bake. And had she said she’d be homeless tomorrow? A gnawing began in Quinton’s stomach as he remembered the eviction papers.

“Tell me, where did you order from?”

“Luie’s Deli. Canal Street.”

“Great,” Quinton said. He started for the exit. He had a break between patients and if he hurried he could catch her and—

“Dr. Searle.”

“Yes?” He turned back around. A receptionist stood there.

“Your mother’s on line three. Says it’s urgent.”

“Thank you,” Quinton said. His errand would have to be delayed. Mrs. Quinton Frederick Searle III—or Babs, to her friends—always indicated urgency whenever she called. Being a doctor’s wife herself, she was a pro at working the system.

Quinton knew that the only urgency his mother had was to see him wed.

In his office he picked up the phone. “Mom,” he said by way of greeting.

“Quinton! I was worried you were too busy.”

“I’m on my lunch break.”

“I’m not keeping you from eating, am I?”

Not unless she got long-winded. “No, I have a few minutes.”

The requisite sigh. “Oh, good. You do remember Shelby and I will be there this weekend, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Super. We have some shopping to do. Unfortunately, Susannah won’t be able to make it. You have asked her to wedding, haven’t you?”

Susannah Joelle Phelps was his family’s handpicked wife candidate for him. Twelve years younger than he was, Susie was twenty-three and in the throes of seeing all her best friends marrying. “No, I haven’t.”

“Quinton, please tell me you’re not being rude to Susie. She’s been waiting for you forever, and you’re getting old son, old.”

“I’m thirty-five, Mother, not dead. And don’t worry, I’ve sent my tux measurements already.”

“You better have. The wedding is Valentine’s Day weekend. Don’t even tell me that you didn’t schedule off the week between your father’s and my anniversary and your sister’s wedding.”

Quinton kept silent.

“You must be here, Quinton. There are family activities all week and you know your father really wants to talk to you. It’s past time to return home. He’s waited long enough, and, well, I’ve waited long enough. Once your sister is married the next thing on my agenda is organizing your wedding. I just want you happy. Susie and St. Louis would make a good combination.”

“I’m happy here, Mother. And no, with Bill on his honeymoon I can’t get away that week. I’ve already got people covering for me two weekends in a row.”

“Stop hiding away from your family responsibilities. You have obligations. You are a Searle. Have I not raised you right?”

Uh-oh. Here came the lecture. “Mom, my nurse just told me I have ten calls to return. We’ll talk soon.”

“You need to be in the week before the wedding.”

“I doubt that will happen.”

“We’ll talk this weekend. With my heart condition you know I can’t take this kind of stress.” Babs Searle definitely knew how to work the system. She’d always been over the top, a one-woman steamroller. But his father had asked Quinton to go easy on Babs because of her heart condition. And Quinton, although he had no desire to take over his father’s practice, did love and respect his father.

Thus, the words were out of his mouth before he could even think to stop them. “By the way, I’m bringing a date to the wedding.”

“What?” Silence fell as both Quinton and his mother contemplated what he’d just said. “Did I hear you correctly?” his mother finally asked.

Well, in for a penny…” Yes,” Quinton said. “A date. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“So you aren’t serious?”

“Mom, I’m never going to be serious about Susie, either. Stop stringing the poor girl along. Just because all her friends are getting married doesn’t mean she’ll be an old maid. You and her mother can matchmake somewhere else.”

“Humph.” His mother exhaled. “I’m not sure I—”

“Got to go, Mom,” and with that Quinton hung up before she could get in another word.

He looked up to see Larry standing in the doorway.

“You have a date for your sister’s wedding?”

“No,” Quinton admitted. “But I have to do something or she’ll book the chapel and have the bride waiting the minute Shelby’s on her honeymoon.”

Larry grinned. “I still think I have my old black book somewhere if you want.”

“No, thanks,” Quinton said. An idea started forming in his head. He’d cost Beth Johnson five hundred dollars. Well, he had a way for her to earn it back and not have to shuck her clothes in the process. As she was the most inappropriate woman for his parents’ social circle he’d ever met, she’d be perfect for the job. He gave Larry a grin. “Believe me, I’ve got someone in mind who will get my mother off my back and not hassle me for a commitment afterward.”

“Those are the best kind,” Larry said.

WHEN QUINTON REACHED Luie’s that evening at six, the woman behind the counter told him that Beth had gone for the day. Quinton purchased a slice of chocolate cream pie anyway, and ate it before returning to his car. The pie had been sinful, and Quinton resolved to do sixty push-ups, ten more than usual, when he got home that night.

The drive from Luie’s to Beth’s building took approximately twenty minutes in traffic—walking the short distance would have been quicker. Again, someone had left the door unlocked, saving him from having to be buzzed in. He took the steps two at a time to her floor.

Nervousness suddenly filled him as he inhaled a deep breath and knocked.

“It’s open, Ida,” he heard Beth call.

Quinton turned the knob and entered.

The sparseness of the place instantly appalled him. She really was moving; she hadn’t been lying or exaggerating when she’d said she was being evicted. Boxes of stuff lined the walls, and faded rectangles of paint showed where pictures had once hung.

The apartment was tiny, probably one of the smaller units in the building. However the main room faced east, giving him a view of the Loop off in the distance.

“Ida, I’ve got most of everything—” Beth wiped her hands on her jeans as she came into the room. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open when she saw him. She froze. “What are you doing here?”

“Auntie Ida?” Running at full speed, Carly almost knocked Beth over.

Carly managed to dodge her mother, and before Quinton could move forward to steady Beth, Carly had tossed her arms around his legs and had given him a huge hug. “Dr. Searle!”

“Are you all right?” Quinton asked Beth as she steadied herself.

“What are you doing here?” she repeated.

“Checking up on me!” Carly blurted. She hadn’t released her hold on his legs and her baby blue eyes gazed lovingly at Quinton. “I haven’t taken any more medicine, and we’re moving.”

“I can see that. Your mommy told me about it.”

“And I was serious,” she said.

“I know that now,” Quinton said. “Will an apology help?” Her expression told him no. “Where are you going?”

“A special place,” Carly interrupted. “It’s a surprise.”

Quinton reached down and gently detached Carly’s arms from his legs. “I bet it is a surprise. Are you all packed?”

“Almost. Everything is going into boxes except for some of my clothes. And my blankie. Those go in a suitcase.”

Quinton straightened and looked at Beth. She was staring at her child, and the pain in her eyes seared his heart. He’d caused this. She hadn’t been lying. He understood, what Carly didn’t—that her mother had no place to stay.

“What number are you?”

“Three at one place, six at another. But…” Beth pointed at Carly.

“I understand.” Little ears did not need to hear. “Is there someplace we can talk?”

“Here I am.” At that moment Ida appeared, and Beth was never so grateful to see her. “You’ve made some good progress. The movers will arrive at seven and I’ll supervise while you’re at work. You’ll be all gone by Mr. Anderson’s deadline.” Ida paused as she saw Quinton.

Beth wanted to groan at the speculation she saw in her elderly neighbor’s eyes.

“This is Dr. Searle,” Beth offered.

“He saved me from dying at the hospital,” Carly added.

“Well, I…” Quinton began.

“We met the other night but weren’t formally introduced. I’m Ida Caruthers.” She extended her hand and Quinton shook it. “It’s nice to meet you. Are you here to help Beth pack?”

“He’s here—he’s…” Beth found herself oddly relieved when Quinton simply took charge and said, “Ida, would you mind giving us a few moments alone?”

“Certainly. Come on, Carly. I have some ice cream in my freezer and I can’t eat it all.”

“Do you have sprinkles?” Carly asked.

“Oh, I’ll have to see what I can muster up. I may not have sprinkles, but I bet I have chocolate sauce.”

“Yum,” Carly said.

Moments later Beth found herself alone with Quinton.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be.” She was too tired for anger, too tired for anything but bittersweet regret. “I fought the good fight, but no one wins against fate.”

“Maybe you can.”

“No, I can’t. As of noon tomorrow I have to be out of here. I broke down and used the last of my money for movers and a storage facility. How I’ll ever scrape up enough for a security deposit and first month’s rent on a new apartment I don’t know.”

He’d caused this, and his conscience demanded he fix it. “Let me help.”

“You can’t.”

Sure he could. He could solve any problem he set his mind to, except perhaps with his family. “Let me pay your security deposit for a new apartment. I’ll even pay the first month’s rent. You can pay me back whenever.”

“I don’t take charity.”

“It’s not charity. Consider it a loan. A favor. In fact, you can repay me with one.”

Beth shook her head. “I won’t take loans. Not from individuals. They end up being charity. And I dislike favors. They have to be repaid at too high a cost.”

“Yet you’d strip to earn the money.”

“Stripping was work. Not politically correct, but honest. I’m not a hooker and I don’t strip bare. I’ve only done it a few times—a long time ago. It’s quick money. I needed that money. But I waited too long—I didn’t think Mr. Anderson would really evict me, not after the past few years I’ve had.” She swallowed.

She was so tired, so sick of fighting to eke out an existence. Still, she pressed on. “You wouldn’t know what it’s like to be poor, would you? You wouldn’t know how hard it is to put food on the table, to make sure your child doesn’t suffer. You wouldn’t know…” She suddenly saw two of Quinton.

Both Quinton’s spoke. “Beth, you don’t look good. You’re pale and…”

“I’m fine,” Beth said. “I’m just fine.” She was always fine. She couldn’t afford not to be.

And then, as if fate mocked her, the world went black.

Chapter Three

When she awoke, it was to gentle light and a pillow underneath her head. Where was she? Panic filled her and Beth forced herself to try to sit. Pain filled her head.

“Relax.” Quinton’s voice. “You need to rest.”

Beth closed her eyes and let herself sink back into the softness. Then she remembered.

“Carly.” Beth’s frantic voice came out a mere whisper.

“She’s fine. Ida’s got her.” Quinton’s voice was reassuring. “Just rest,” he said again. “Carly’s fine. Right now she’s probably watching Mulan.”

She kept her eyes closed. “Why are you still here?”

“Because you passed out in my arms. When’s the last time you had something to eat?”

“I don’t remember. Maybe lunch?”

“Which was hours ago.”

Beth’s eyelids snapped open, the light was too intense. She closed her eyes, waited a moment and tried again. Although this time her eyes adjusted better, she still winced. She then struggled to sit up.

“Not so fast,” Quinton said. “Let me help you.”

She felt his arms around her as he moved her to a sitting position.

One arm around her, he said, “Now that you’re up, drink this.” With his other hand, he brought a cup to her lips.

Parched, Beth allowed herself a long drink of the grape-flavored liquid. It tasted familiar. “What is it?”

“Sports drink. Full of electrolytes. I drink it after I work out. I had a bottle in my car. In my medical opinion, your body is dehydrated, hungry and plain fatigued. You need rest and hydration.”

Beth struggled to free herself from his arm. “I’m fine. I have a lot to do, and you need to go.”

A firm but gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her from rising.

“You’re not fine. You collapsed and lost consciousness.”

“I—” Beth began.

“No excuses, no protests. I’m a doctor, and if you want a second opinion regarding your physical condition I’d be happy to take you to the ER. Northwestern is right around the corner and I have some good friends there who would be happy to check you out, maybe even give you an IV.”

Quinton removed his arm and Beth let the soft pillow claim her head. No more ER visits—ever. Besides, she certainly didn’t have the money for another fifty dollars’ co-pay. “That’s okay. I’m not that bad off.”

“See, I knew you were a wise woman,” Quinton said. “Now, you’re going to stay right here and drink the rest of this. You’ve let yourself get run-down. If you were twenty years younger, I’d insist you go to a hospital.”

“Really, I’m fine.”

“You have to rehydrate. Let me help you.” He cradled her head and supported it while Beth took another swallow of the milk.

“And then I’m getting off my couch.”

“No, you’re not,” Quinton said easily.

Beth sipped the grape-flavored sports drink until the cup was empty. Then he lowered her back to the pillow.

“That’s better.”

Beth gazed up at him. “I have to finish packing.”

Quinton ignored her. “Now that you’re done this, I’m going to get you some more. We’ll talk about your activities after that.”

Despite herself, Beth cracked a small smile. “Yes, Doctor.”

The smile Quinton gave her in return before he stood could have melted even the hardest of hearts. Beth found her own fluttering.

“That’s my girl,” he said.

I wish! Beth’s hand shook as she adjusted the ratty old blanket he’d covered her with. Had she really just thought that? She stared at the flat brown doors of her apartment. Then she glanced at the clock.

Panic overtook her. She had things to pack! Stuff to move! She couldn’t relax for another moment.

“I told you to remain lying down.” Quinton’s voice cut through the room.

Beth paused, her left foot halfway to the floor. “I have to pack the rest of my things. I have to be out by noon tomorrow and—”

“It’ll all to be taken care of. I’ve hired packers.”

Disbelief filled her as she stared at him. Was he serious? His gray eyes indicated that he was. But how? Quinton set a tray down and ran a finger under the collar of his long-sleeved polo shirt. “As I keep saying, you need to rest.”

She had to concentrate on her priorities, her symptoms and Quinton’s good looks notwithstanding. “My stuff. I have to pack my stuff.”

He shrugged. “No, you don’t. I said I took care of it. I called in a favor.” He saw her expression and smiled. “Yeah, a favor. A friend of mine owns a moving service. Everything for storage goes at first light tomorrow, and he’s got a two-man crew coming to box your personal things at the same time.”

“But I have no place to go!”

“Trust me.” Quinton opened another bottle of the drink that he’d brought up from his car. “Carly deserves a mother who’s well.”

Anger returned, and Beth winced as her head throbbed harder. “I am not one of your patients! You can’t order me about. I’m not drinking anything until you tell me exactly what’s happening. I can’t afford this.”

“Stop stressing yourself out. It’s not good for you. I can afford it.”

“But I can’t. I told you before—I’m not taking your charity or your favors!” Beth sat up completely, the blanket slipping to her waist. She glanced down in a panic.

“Don’t worry,” Quinton said. “You’re decent. Besides, I saw it all the other night.”

Beth shot him a dirty look. “If I drink this stuff, will you tell me what you want and then leave?”

“I want to help you.” He handed her the bottle of sports drink.

“What’s in it for you?”

Quinton frowned. “Am I that transparent?”

“Men always want something,” Beth said.

“That doesn’t say much for my gender. And I guess, in a way, I do want something. But it’s not what you’re expecting. At least, I hope not. What I think is that I have a solution to your problem, and in turn, you can be the solution to mine.”

“Wait. You’re telling me that you have a problem you want me to solve. That’s what you want? A solution to a problem?”

“What, you find it hard to believe that I have a problem? That’s a bit low, don’t you think?”

“I don’t mean for it to be. It just appears that you have everything going for you.” Beth thought for a moment. It was true that everyone had problems. There were health problems, relationship problems and money problems. Then there was… “You’re not on drugs, are you?”

Quinton’s head snapped backward and disbelief caused his eyes to narrow. “No! What gave you that idea?”

Beth waved a hand. “I was trying to figure out what type of problem you have. You’ve obviously got money, you appear to be in great health and with your good looks you can’t be lacking a girlfriend.”

“You find me attractive?” A teasing note entered Quinton’s voice, as he tried to lighten what was fast becoming an awkward moment.

Beth’s heart jumped, but outwardly she remained calm. “No. I said you were good-looking. That doesn’t mean I’m attracted to you. Anyway, if you don’t have those problems, maybe you’re like one of those guys in the soaps who’s the closet drug user.”

“Uh, no,” Quinton said. “Not even close, and I’m a bit offended that you thought that of me. Now, drink.”

“I’m sorry I keep offending you. I’m not trying to.” Beth took a drink. “Okay, so then what is it?”

“My parents want me to return to St. Louis to live.”

The drink almost fell from Beth’s hand, but she caught it before it spilled. “That’s all?”

This time Quinton really appeared offended. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Oh, come on. You’re not dying. You’re not being evicted. You’re not on drugs. Your parents just want you to move to St. Louis, where I assume they live and you grew up. So you say no. No big deal. How hard is it to say no? You’re a big boy.”

“Yes, I am. But unfortunately, simply saying no to what you’ve been groomed to do since birth is a little awkward. It is a big deal. While my problem may not seem big to you, it is to me.”

Beth set down the sports bottle. He was correct and she was being totally insensitive. She normally wasn’t like this. Maybe she was feeling the stress of everything, but that was no excuse for her behavior. She’d simply dismissed his problem. The very least she could do was to hear him out. After all, he had rescued her when she fainted.

“I’m sorry. I usually don’t jump to conclusions. You’ve also been very kind to me. It’s the least I can do. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Quinton took a deep breath. “I’ve been raised since birth to take over my father’s pediatrics practice, marry, join the country club and live in a nice part of town. While I love pediatric medicine, I don’t love the girl my parents want me to marry and I have no desire to live in either Ladue or Town and Country. And then there’s my mother. She’s as upper crust as they come and my father is very patriarchal. I’m the eldest child, and besides passing my name to my son, I’m to carry on the family traditions, just like he did. It’s my birthright and my responsibility.”

“So, you have to make them understand that times change. You’ve chosen a different path.”

“It’s not that easy,” Quinton said. “They can’t accept thirty-five, single and happy in Chicago. They see bachelorhood as some sort of failure—not as a lifestyle choice. They’ve even arranged for a date to my sister’s wedding which is four weekends from now, on February twelfth.”

“An arranged date? They still do those things?”

“My mother’s idea. It will be an arranged marriage if she has her way. Shelby’s wedding is almost here, and afterward my mother will have an emotional let-down and nothing to do. She’ll turn to me. Actually, she’s already started.” Quinton took a deep breath. “So I told my mother I was bringing a date. Which is why I came over here tonight.”

“I don’t see how I can help you with any of this. I don’t have any experience in this area. I’m not from a wealthy family. My parents are divorced and live on opposite coasts. I hardly see them. We’re not what you call close. I don’t understand these family matters.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Quinton suddenly seemed impatient. “Let me just be blunt. Here’s my idea. I want you to be my date in exchange for a place to live.”

“You what?”

“I want you to pretend to be madly in love with me and go to the wedding with me.”

He stared at her and she stared back. He opened his mouth to offer her five hundred dollars, but another idea popped into his head. Beth Johnson needed more than five hundred. She needed time to get well and get back on her feet. She needed a chance. He’d screwed things up for her—she was right about that—and he had to make amends.

“Move in with me for a month or so,” he continued. “Just long enough to let you and Carly get back on your feet. You’ll have your own two rooms. With my hours I’m never home, and no one will think anything of me picking up some extra ER shifts to give you privacy. Plus, the weekend of February fifth, I’ll be in St. Louis for my parents’ anniversary. The weekend after that is the weekend I want you to go with me to my sister’s wedding in St. Louis and pretend to be my date.”

“You’re crazy.” Beth gazed at him to make sure she’d actually heard what she thought she had. His expression indicated he was serious. “You’re asking me to live with you and pretend to be in love with you at a wedding? This is insane.”

Quinton nodded. “Probably, but it’ll work. It’s less messy than finding a wife and it’ll keep my family off my back. It’ll provide you a place to live and some time to save up your security deposit. We each get what we want. And don’t think you can’t do it—I know you can. You’re a beautiful woman. All we have to do is get you gussied up and my family should be satisfied that I’m happy. You just keep insisting that you could never leave Chicago. Hopefully, they’ll relent and give up asking me to leave once you’re in the picture. Afterward you’ll dump me and I’ll remain heartbroken for at least a year.”

He’d said she was beautiful, and she’d liked it. She mentally shook her herself. “But wouldn’t they want you to change cities after your breakup so you could leave the memories behind? They’ll probably also start really throwing women at you, to help you get over me.”

He frowned. “Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I’ll tell my parents that we have a chance of working things out. That might buy me some more time until I can figure out what to do. Maybe you should be my fiancée and not just my date.”

Quinton’s fiancée. The idea sounded so seductive. Beth fought the devil whispering over her shoulder. “I don’t know why this is necessary. You could simply say no.”

He stood up and paced. “I’ve done that more than a dozen times, but to no avail. My family won’t accept my choices. Besides, my mother has a heart condition. As a doctor, I know it’s not as serious as she maintains, but it’s real. My dad asked me not to upset her. Believe me, I’d rather tell my mother the truth but I promised. If lying about our relationship means adding a few extra years to her life, I will. Despite her flaws, she’s my mother.”