Flirting with the Society Doctor / When One Night Isn't Enough (24 page)

He had no desire to talk, or move. So he sat, with her still straddling his lap, in no hurry to leave, enjoying the feel of her in his arms, which he tightened around her, slipping his hands under the bottom of her sweater to warm them. They fit together like two distinct halves purposely manufactured to become one seamless whole, a feeling he wouldn’t soon forget.

What a mess. He hadn’t intended to take things this far, hence the lack of condoms. He never should have shown up at the bar where he’d known Ali and her friends would be.

But he’d been at odds with himself. After a few hours of sleep, he’d packed his life into his rolling duffel then prowled around his apartment with nothing to do but think. Of Ali, and how he wanted to see her one last time. A smiling Ali, not the angry one who’d scowled at him when the police officer had shown up at the E.R. Or the one who, when her shift ended, had left the hospital without so much as a glance in his direction.

Break them up before Michael proposed. That had been the plan. One glimpse of the fire in Ali’s eyes the first time they’d touched, of her temper when she’d joined a young mother’s fight against Child Protective Services, and Jared had known she’d never achieve Stepford wife status, no matter how hard she tried. Yet, in Michael’s presence, she’d
transformed herself into the soft-spoken, malleable woman Michael wanted in a bride.

The ultimate deception, a relationship based on pretense.

Having suffered through one, Jared had every intention of sparing his friend the heartache, and legal problems, he’d experienced.

Jared’s plan:

Stage One: flirt. Reveal what he sensed was Ali’s true nature. Evoke her passion, a passion Michael wasn’t man enough to satisfy. A passion she’d tamped down with rigid control. Until tonight.

Stage Two: tease, taunt and prod. Point out Michael’s shortcomings. Joke about them. Give Ali a chance to vent her frustration with Michael’s routine tendencies, to realize what a mistake it would be to marry him. Instead she had praised and defended Michael, never saying an unkind word. Deep down, Jared longed for the day a woman spoke with such conviction in support of him.

When Ali had proved too strong to manipulate, Jared had implemented Stage Three, turning his energy to Michael. A few carefully chosen words, a “chance” encounter at a bar with a woman Michael thought highly of, and the deed was done with remarkable ease. It turned out Michael had harbored a growing concern about Ali’s malleable nature when she’d tried to change up their bedroom routine.

Now Michael, one of the few friends who’d stood by him during the DEA investigation, was genuinely happy with his equally boring new girlfriend. While Ali, a woman he barely knew, a woman who had tried to con his friend, was anything but happy. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did.

So he had amended the plan, adding a Stage Four: make Ali forget about Michael by turning her focus onto
him.
Who’d have known he’d enjoy her so much? Their banter over the past month the most fun he’d had in years.

Since the day he’d said, “I do.”

Jared stretched out his legs. His feet were cold. He reached down to touch Ali’s bare thighs. He couldn’t believe she wasn’t shivering. He shifted her weight. “Come on, honey. It’s time to go.”

She didn’t budge.

“Ali.” He kissed the top of her head, her soft hair tickling his chin. Nothing.

He took her by the shoulders and pushed her off his chest. Her head hung down between them. Great. Now what the heck was he supposed to do?

Five weeks later

T
HE
storm dubbed The New Year’s Eve Nor’easter raging outside had no effect on the festivities or attendance at the Madrin Memorial Hospital New Year’s Eve Gala.

“No champagne?” Victoria yelled to be heard over the dance music blaring from the DJ’s speakers immediately to the left of their table.

Ali shook her head. Not that she was ever a big drinker, but she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since her park-bench encounter with Dr. Padget. Didn’t trust herself. Waking up in her bed with no clear memory of how she’d gotten there, or what she’d done after straddling his lap down by the river, was an effective motivator for maintaining sobriety.

“You’re missing out on some primo bubbly,” Roxie called out, chugging down the contents of Ali’s flute after the waiter topped it off.

“Who’s driving you home?” Ali asked Roxie, who scanned the crowd.

“I haven’t decided,” Roxie answered with a mischievous smile and a wink.

Polly slapped Roxie’s arm. “You are so bad.” She leaned
in close to Ali. “We came together. I’ll be driving Roxie home.”

Ali scanned the dance floor packed with her smiling coworkers and wanted to shoot off a champagne cork or two into the crowd. No. Just because she was in an awful mood it didn’t mean she begrudged her friends a good time. But having no one to kiss when the ball dropped, and watching everyone who did, was not on her agenda for the night. Excuses that would get her home before midnight started to take form.

Stomachache? A possibility. Menstrual cramps? She wished. Itchy rash? Headache?

Back when they’d been dating, she and Michael had talked about getting engaged prior to the New Year. Michael made good on the plan, proposing to Wanda on Christmas Eve in front of the Christmas tree on the pediatrics floor. It’d been the talk of the hospital. Ali could have done with a bout of sudden-onset hearing loss.

No such luck.

So she smiled and told everyone she wished the sickeningly happy couple well. In private she researched how to make voodoo dolls. Three of them. And stockpiled enough pins to start her own clothing line.

The DJ took a break, blessing them with some quiet background music, and Lyle Crenshaw, the catering manager on staff at the hospital, took the opportunity to approach their table.

Three years ago, after a major expansion and renovation to upgrade facilities, hospital management had left space in the rear of the building for class and conference rooms and a large party room for hosting fundraisers, staff appreciation luncheons and the occasional hospital celebration. While the outside of the building screamed hospital, the inside could have been the lobby of any four-star hotel. The
transformation from abandoned medical services departments to premier catering hall was so significant; people in the community had expressed an interest in holding their weddings, communion parties and the occasional Bat Mitzvah at the hospital, creating an unanticipated stream of income and making Lyle Crenshaw a bit of a hero in town.

“Hello, there, ladies,” Lyle said with his trademark southern drawl. “I’d like to invite ya’ll on a tour of my office later this evening. I’ve brought some Southwestern charm to the Northeast, and I’m eager to show it off.”

“Do you want us all at once?” Roxie asked with a twinkle in her eye, her voice taking on a seductive tone. “Or one at a time?”

“Well, I’ll take you any way you want, sugar.” Lyle smiled, well aware of Roxie’s antics after her behavior at last week’s new IV pump in-service held in the large conference room.

Roxie batted her eyelashes and smiled back.

“Is that who I think it is?” Polly asked, pointing at the main entrance to the ballroom.

Ali turned to see Jared Padget decked out in a tux, looking too handsome to be a real flesh-and-blood man, and her heart skipped a beat. A few beats actually, allowing the blood to drain from her head. At the same time her lungs ceased to function, and she held on to the table to keep from falling to the floor.

Shame and embarrassment did not begin to cover her feelings at that moment. She’d accosted him in a bar, forced herself on him, and proceeded to pass out immediately following the finale. And the signs he’d been in her bed had not boded well for her going right to sleep upon returning home. Despite the lack of blood flow to the upper reaches of her body, her face felt on fire.

While she regretted her choices that night five weeks ago, her gramps had taught her there’s nothing you could do about your past so focus on your future. Ali had put their interlude behind her, didn’t allow herself to think about it, or him. And had no desire to revisit either.

Voilà!
The perfect reason to blow this party, before the horns and noisemakers. “I’m out of here,” Ali said to Victoria as she stood, stooping a bit, trying to blend in with the people milling around the dance floor.

Victoria knew what had happened between Ali and Dr. Padget. At least the parts Ali remembered. “We’ll head him off,” Victoria said, sending Polly one way and Roxie the other.

Ali ducked behind the DJ, watched her friends make their way through the crowd. Roxie reached him first, grabbed at her throat, pretending to choke, and collapsed to the floor at his feet. Ali smiled at the scene, Dr. Padget dropping to his knees to render first aid, a crowd gathering, Victoria and Polly off to the side, laughing. As if sensing her watching, Victoria motioned for Ali to get moving. Which she did, heading for the rear hallway, planning to loop around, pick up her coat and boots at the coat check and hop into one of the designated driver cars, coordinated by the hospital, lined up outside.

No sooner had she entered the brightly lit hallway of closed doors than she saw an entwined Michael and Wanda leaning up against the wall of her planned escape route. While she no longer had feelings for Michael, and had conquered her anger at Wanda, she preferred to avoid seeing the two of them together. Or alone for that matter. So she turned, only to see Jared walking in her direction. The hairs on her arms rose and leaned in his direction. Ali scanned the hallway, looking for an alternate route. When she saw none, she tried the doorknob for the main conference room
on her right, ecstatic to find it unlocked, and slipped inside before he spotted her.

In the safety of darkness, Ali leaned against the closed door, allowed her breathing to slow and her eyes to adjust to the shadowed interior.

A few minutes and she’d peek outside. If she skipped the coat check she could duck out the rear exit and be home in five minutes.

The doorknob at her right hip turned with a click. Had Dr. P. found her so quickly? And if not him, how would she explain standing alone in the dark in an empty conference room?

“Michael,” she heard him say just outside the door. “Have you seen Allison?” She froze.

“Hey, Jared,” Michael answered. “I heard you were coming back.”

What had he heard? And why hadn’t she heard?

“Four weeks this time,” Jared said.

Joining the traveling nurse corps was looking better and better.

“Have you seen Allison?” he asked again.

Ali didn’t wait to hear the answer. Instead she took off in a rapid tiptoe, as quietly as she could, into the black, cave-like conditions at the far end of the rectangular room. Feeling along the wall, she found the rear door that led to Lyle’s office, and slipped inside just as the door to the conference room opened.

Ali didn’t want to risk making any noise so she rested the door against the frame rather than pulling it closed.

Aside from knowing where it was, Ali had never been inside Lyle’s office before. It was darker than the conference room. There didn’t appear to be any windows, just a thin strip of light at the base of the door on the far side
of the room. She stood perfectly still, willing her eyes to adjust, wishing she hadn’t left the protection of her friends and cursing the impractical trendy stilettos that pinched her toes.

“I don’t see anything but darkness,” Allison heard Wanda say, her deceptively sweet voice too close for comfort.

Allison didn’t know which was worse, looking like she was stalking Michael and Wanda or being found by Dr. Padget. She took a step back, preparing to duck behind the door if necessary, and bumped into what felt like a tall filing cabinet. Apparently Lyle was not as conscientious as he appeared because the file drawer he’d failed to secure in place, the one her right hip connected with, shifted the few centimeters necessary to click closed, the top corner snagging a section of Ali’s skirt in the process.

“Does Lyle really have an award-winning cactus in his office?” Wanda asked. “Or did you plan to get me alone so you could have your wicked way with me?” Wanda giggled.

Wicked way?
Yuck!

And a cactus was the little bit of Southwestern charm Lyle had invited them to his office to see? Exactly when would his tours begin?

Ali tugged at the drawer to find it locked in place. She yanked on the beaded mesh of her ridiculously expensive dress. It didn’t budge.

Tears threatened.

Tonight was supposed to be her night to shine, to show her coworkers partying down the hall that she’d put Dr. Michael Shefford behind her. That she’d moved on. And she’d planned to look damn good doing it. Only nothing had gone as planned.

First, Victoria’s brother, who had agreed to pose as her enamored out-of-state date, had fractured his fibula in a
skiing accident and hadn’t been able to travel to New York. As a result, Allison was dateless, on New Year’s Eve, at the same party as her ex and his fiancée.

And now this, attached to a filing cabinet, in the dark, like a pagan sacrifice to the god of stupidity.

She twisted a lock of hair around her finger until the roots pulled at her scalp.

There has to be a way out of this, Ali thought. Calm down and think of it.

“I heard people talking about that cactus,” Wanda said. “I want to see it.”

Don’t you dare bring her back here, Michael.
In a panic Allison tried to twist free. With a distinctive
rrriiippp,
she gained some room to move, but not her freedom.

“I’ll show you something much more impressive than that puny cactus,” Michael said in the Humphrey Bogart voice he’d imitated so many times throughout their relationship. Hearing him use it with Wanda caused the surf and turf in Ali’s stomach to churn. Unwilling to sacrifice her favorite designer heels, she swallowed back the urge to vomit.

“Here, on the conference room table?” While Wanda sounded surprised, Ali couldn’t be more shocked. This was totally out of character. Michael didn’t have an adventurous bone in his body, at least while he’d dated her.