Her Texas Rescue Doctor (12 page)

Martina stopped next to Grace. “Sophia means someone who isn't in the industry at all. Deezee couldn't hurt someone who didn't need to impress the press.”

And you wouldn't have to deal with another celebrity's angry publicist, would you?

Sophia had her eyes closed now, pneumonia wiping her out. “It's hard to find someone who isn't in the industry. Grace had a point about reviving that smart and mature approach, although
mature
is the absolutely wrong word to use.”

“Let's say
down-to-earth
, shall we?” Martina said. “We need someone normal. An everyday man, making Sophia Jackson seem approachable, someone women identify with. Someone men think they might actually stand a chance with.”

Sophia opened one eye. “But Mr. Normal Guy will have to be attractive. Hard body. Not old.”

Grace glanced over her shoulder. Alex was still sitting with his back to them. His hair was damp from his shower, almost black against the nape of his neck, longer than it had looked at the hospital. He wore a red T-shirt that was so worn, it had faded to a pinkish mud color. He looked down-to-earth to her. Not old. And last night, in the light of the refrigerator, he'd definitely had a hard body.

Martina kept talking. “So, we need a man who is respectably employed but not tycoon-wealthy who lives here in Texas who is the right age and who is straight and single and willing to pretend he's dating Sophia Jackson. And we need to find him today, tomorrow at the latest.”

A moment of silence followed that.

This is my sister. I have to try one more time.

Grace clenched her notepad in her hands. “Or we could try the truth. Deezee was a lousy boyfriend, which you found out when you flew down for the Texas Rescue grand-opening ceremony.”

No one answered her. Behind her, she heard Alex shove his chair away from the table.

Martina was glued to her tablet screen now, as obsessed as Sophia usually was with her phone. “This black-tie event benefits several causes, including Texas Rescue. Absolutely perfect. Your trip begins and ends with a Texas Rescue event, and you'll have a secret getaway with a hot guy in the middle.”

Grace felt Alex's presence behind her. Martina did a little double take when she looked from her tablet to the man standing behind Grace's chair.

“Alex,” he said over Grace's head, the briefest of introductions. “I live here. If you're referring to next week's Black and White Ball, it's sold out.”

“They won't turn Sophia Jackson away.”

He addressed her sister directly. “You can have my ticket if you need it. West Central is one of the beneficiaries, as well. Part of the proceeds are going to help replace those curtains in the ER with walls. I'm sure you'll want to help make it a success.”

Sophia opened both eyes then. “Like I care. I'm never going to be your patient again.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Grace wasn't sure how to interpret that. Maybe he meant that he was glad Sophia wasn't his patient, because he couldn't date a patient.

Martina dismissed Alex with a flick of her fingers. “There is no question that she can go to the ball. Now we just have to pick out which guy she should take.” She sat down on the armrest of the couch, nestling right next to Sophia, like they were sisters about to share a Netflix marathon on her tablet.

Grace had to scoot her chair closer to the sofa to be able to see the screen, as well. Alex was behind her still. It would take more than Martina's finger flick to make him move if he didn't feel like it.

Martina ignored them, cozy with her client. “The only positive photos of you on social media for the past three months were taken with Texas Rescue yesterday.”

I arranged that photo op.

No one thanked her.

“Let's review that ribbon-cutting group photo.” Martina pointed at the screen. “How about him?”

Of course, she'd pointed at the most obviously handsome guy. Grace shook her head. “Thor? He's not interested in Sophia.”

Sophia roused herself, offended. “Says who?”

“You didn't like him, either. He's the paramedic that actually rode with you in the back of the ambulance.”

“Oh, him. I'm an actress. I can pretend I like him.”

Martina had already moved on. “There are three firefighters. This one is too young.”

Grace felt Alex step closer behind her. On top of everything else, she now had to suffer while he listened to her sister sort through all his friends like they were her personal shopping catalog. This wasn't going to put Sophia in her best light.

“This one's too old,” Sophia announced.

Charming, Sis. Just charming.

Martina tilted her head and considered the photo. “But very distinguished. A little Clooney gray at the temples. He could add some gravitas to your reputation.”

“Too old.” Sophia tapped the last fireman with her fingernail. “This one's just right. Looks about thirty. Confident. Photographs well.”

Alex bent so close, Grace could feel the rumble of his deep voice as he spoke over her shoulder. “That's Luke. He's married to the director of Texas Rescue.”

“Buzz kill,” Sophia muttered, as if Alex had arranged for this Luke to be married just to spoil her day.

“How about one of the doctors?” Martina asked. “They get instant respect as soon as you say their name. Imagine yourself saying ‘I'm here with Dr. John Doe from Texas Rescue.' This one looks perfect.”

“All those guys are married and happy about it. Some of the women in that photo are single, though.” Alex sounded a little sarcastic to Grace's ear.

Martina set the tablet in her lap. “Here's a story. ‘Sophia Jackson has a female fling, a girlfriend with benefits, taking a break after all the drama of dating men, most recently DJ Deezee Kalm.' We could work that angle.”

Alex stood up straight again, leaving Grace's shoulder feeling cold. “You don't decide to change your sexual orientation for a week. That's not how it works.”

“It's called experimentation,” Martina said, sounding condescending. “Very Bohemian and naughty in my day, but now it's almost
de rigueur
. Still, if any of these women were inclined...”

Grace hated her blush, but she hated even more that Alex was witnessing this. They were in his house, though. She couldn't ask him to leave his own living room.

“I want to be seen with a man,” Sophia said. “Thirty-ish. A doctor would work.”

They were describing Alex. He was standing right here. It wasn't like either woman to beat around the bush, but maybe they were hoping he'd volunteer.

“It sounds like you're talking about Alex,” she said, wanting to get this over with. “Dr. Alex Gregory.”

Sophia dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “The man has to be drop-dead gorgeous to make it believable that I'd leave Deezee for him.”

Grace felt all the pain of that insult, but more, the unfairness of it. She dared to turn her head far enough to see how Alex was taking it. He was really very handsome underneath all that scruffy...

Oh, my.

All that scruffiness was gone. Alex had shaved. His hair, still wet from the shower, was slicked back. With those dark-framed glasses...

Martina had twisted around, too, and was openly studying Alex. “Actually, he's got a very Clark Kent vibe going.”

Grace's breath caught—it was what she'd thought from the first.

Martina tapped her stylus. “Which means we could turn him into Superman.”

Sophia slid farther down the couch, settling in for a nap. “Be serious.”

“I am,” Martina said, her voice as sharp as the points of her designer pumps. “Open your eyes, Sophia.”

She obeyed, craning her neck to check out her host. “Oh.”

“
Oh
, indeed. Clark turned into Superman in seconds, but thankfully, we've got a whole week.” Martina stood and tossed her tablet on the couch. “Well, I'm positively parched. Someone get me a vodka tonic.”

No one moved.

Grace couldn't stop staring at clean-shaven Alex, but his neutral expression was impossible to read.

“He hasn't agreed to anything, Martina,” she said.

Martina only laughed. “Well, Dr. Gregory, are you ready to become the most interesting man in Texas?”

Chapter Twelve

“N
o.”

Alex crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to cower or cringe as three women evaluated him solely on his looks. He knew how to act like he didn't care: tall kids who wore glasses and spoke with Russian accents had to learn quickly in high school.

“That's all you have to say?” The woman named Martina looked exactly as he expected a behind-the-scenes show business shark to look. She was what he'd expected Sophia's assistant to be. “I'm offering you the chance to walk the red carpet with one of America's hottest stars, and all you can say is no?”

“No, thank you.”

“Very funny.”

At least Martina got his sarcasm.

He looked at Grace, the voice of reason in this group. Her knuckles were nearly white as she clutched her notebook. He hated to see her so anxious. She'd done such a good job defending her sister and taking on Martina, even if she'd lost the battle over this publicity stunt.

“Do you have someone in your life, then?” Martina persisted. “Someone you're afraid to make jealous?”

“No.”

“You'll be compensated for your time away from work, of course. I hear those med-school student loans are such a burden. Young doctors are drowning in debt, they say.”

The loans weren't fun, certainly, but a substantial portion of his medical school had been covered by scholarships. As Chief Resident during his last year, he'd earned a higher salary than the other young doctors-in-training. His house was the right size for a bachelor. He had one high-end pickup truck and two carbon-fiber road bikes. He was doing just fine.

Ms. Hollywood Shark was taking the wrong path to persuade him. The day he paid off a med-school loan by dressing up as a starlet's boy toy was the day he needed to turn in his man card.

Grace was looking at him with that same look she'd had in the ER's kitchen. Fear, worry—and hope. She was facing a mess, and she hoped he'd be able to help her fix it.

Of course, anything that hurt Sophia's acting career would hurt Grace, too. That was unfortunate, but still not a reason to make him play their game. This entire conversation had only driven home the point that an actress's life was inherently self-absorbed. He didn't feel obligated to support that.

“Grace will arrange your clothing,” Martina decreed. “I don't know how much a personal trainer can do in a week, but try.”

He had a landscape project to finish this week. The only thing he could use a personal trainer for was as an extra set of hands to haul wheelbarrows of gravel.

“A haircut. A facial. Spray tan. I expect him to be able to dance,” Sophia said between coughs that sounded fractionally better than yesterday's.

Grace spoke to her sister. “You don't sound like you'll be dancing a week from today.” Then she looked to him, trusting him to have the answers. “Will she?”

“It's possible, at least for a song or two, if she doesn't do anything crazy. Shortness of breath or pain in the ankle are pretty obvious signs it's time to stop.”

“I'll be ready. Get him dance lessons. Be sure the photographers are told ahead of time to expect me to dance. It's the easiest way to make a couple look more romantically involved than they are.”

Grace opened her notebook and started writing.

Something inside him snapped. Grace was Sophia's personal assistant, and that meant she'd execute this fake boyfriend plan to the best of her ability, whether she agreed with it or not. Whether Sophia appreciated her hard work or not.

Whether he was the fake boyfriend or not.

He'd advised her to find a new job, but she'd explained that her boss was her sister, as if that made it okay for her to put up with being treated badly.
Family.
Sometimes, a family member could calm a frightened patient, but it was just as likely that the family member made the problem worse, like a father who pushed his son to play soccer the day after an injury.
Family
made people stay in bad situations, even when it was a family member who hurt them and caused them pain. People like Mrs. Burns.

His mother.

Grace.

He walked around the couch and looked out the sliding glass doors, letting his focus settle on the shapes of the cactus he'd protected throughout a freezing winter. Behind him, Martina took a phone call as Sophia continued to dictate the list of her wants and needs. He stared at his cactus and tuned them out.

He wasn't being logical about this. He couldn't equate Grace's situation with women who'd been physically hurt by the family members who supposedly loved them. There was no assault and battery. Grace was in no physical danger here.

He turned around to watch her writing with her white-knuckled grip on her pen, hunched in her hard chair while the others lounged on upholstery, and he felt a quiet fury all the same. Of all the people in this room, only one was anxious and stressed and unhappy. The one who wanted the best for someone who didn't care how she felt in return. The one who was expected to do the most work and sit in the least comfortable chair.

That one was Grace. There was no violence, but Alex recognized other similarities. She was kept in line with scraps of attention. She was ignored until any reasonable person would leave, and then thrown an almost-apology.
I really took it out on you—we didn't know I had pneumonia, though, did we?
She was condescendingly allowed to have made a good point.
Grace had a point—although
mature
is the absolutely wrong word to use.
It was just enough to keep Grace hoping that if she stayed a little longer, her sister would treat her better.
It won't happen again.

How could he make Grace see how warped that pattern was? Her job and her family were making her miserable. She ought to be doing something she found more rewarding, whatever that might be. As it was, she was so busy running and fetching that he doubted she'd had the chance to be alone with her own thoughts. She needed time to evaluate where she was and where she wanted to be.

He could give that to her.

He spoke to the group as a whole. “I haven't agreed to escort Sophia to the Black and White Ball.”

Sophia stopped whining. Martina stopped texting.

Alex spoke evenly, without emotion, as he'd been doing since childhood. “As you said, my time is valuable.”

“Which is why we'll pay you,” Martina replied. “You'll be allowed to keep the clothing, as well. Any jewelry will have to returned, of course.”

“I have commitments during my days off work which I can't ignore. If I have to spend time preparing for your project, then I'll need someone to spend time on my projects in return. I want to be paid for my time by being given time.”

“You want me to visit the hospital, whoop-de-doo.” Sophia managed to sound both vain and world-weary at the same time.

“I want Grace's time in return for my own.”

“Grace's?” Sophia tipped over, going from sitting to horizontal on the couch. “Okay, fine. I don't care. It's a deal.”

“It isn't your deal to make, Sophia. If Grace agrees, then you and I need to clarify that if Grace is working with me, then she won't be around to fetch and carry for you. I don't want her to work any more hours than she already does. Once she puts in eight or nine hours in a day, whether it's with me or with you, she's done.”

“Whatever. I'm so effing tired, I just want to sleep.”

He walked around the couch to stand before Grace and held out his hand for a formal shake. “I'm willing to give you my time if you're willing to give me yours. Do we have an agreement?”

It was a simple deal. Sophia would get what she wanted. Martina would get what she wanted. There was no risk that anything would happen to him other than getting a haircut and a tuxedo. Simple.

Hope returned to Grace's angelic face, and she placed her hand in his, confident that he'd solved all her problems, unaware that he had ulterior motives. He intended to help Grace change her life.

Alex felt a twinge of guilt. A woman who lived in Hollywood ought to know that life was only this simple in the movies.

* * *

Grace was simply delighted.

Everything was going according to plan. It seemed like it had been ages since she'd looked out a van window and wished her sister would fall in love with a nice, normal guy from Texas Rescue.

As if she'd been granted three wishes, everything was coming true. Overnight, Deezee had been eliminated from their lives. Alex had volunteered to date her sister. And Sophia—

Well, Sophia wasn't showing much interest in Alex yet. Martina had actually taken more notice of him.
And I can't stop staring at him.

She wouldn't dwell on that. This was about saving Sophia. Her sister had only cried over Deezee for a short time before fury had set in, but her heart couldn't have hardened between eating pancakes and having a meeting with Martina. When Deezee realized how much he'd lost, he might come crawling back. Sophia might still want him, and they'd be right back where they'd started.

Grace couldn't let that happen. Alex was the key. If Sophia fell for Alex, then Deezee couldn't suck her sister back into his dysfunctional world. Grace had one week to turn Alex into the perfect man for her sister.

At least she didn't have to try to turn Sophia into the perfect woman for Alex. All morning, Grace had been worried that Alex would be totally turned off by the calculations and machinations that were necessary to keep Sophia's career and reputation intact, but apparently, Alex had overlooked it. He'd volunteered to be her fake boyfriend, despite it all.

He agreed to help Sophia by spending time with me.

It would be foolish to feel flattered. She was Grace the Assistant. Grace the Sister.

“Grace?”

“Yes?”

“I'm taking another meeting.” Martina headed for the door, moving fast on those stilettos.

“Wait—we need to work out the details.”

But Martina didn't slow down, so Grace jumped up to follow her, notebook at the ready. “You'll get the tickets to the ball, right?”

Martina flicked her fingers. “You handle this, Grace. I'm the idea man. You're the one who makes it happen.
Ciao.
”

Grace clenched her notebook as Martina slammed the door.

“Is it safe?” Alex murmured behind her. “Is she gone?”

Grace turned around, feeling foolish for running after Martina.

Alex didn't step back. “You know, Martina was exactly what I expected you to be. Before you got to the ER, your sister had been threatening me with her fearsome assistant. She said you were going to straighten everything out.”

Grace couldn't remember ever being told that Sophia had talked about her when she wasn't around. What an odd thing for Sophia to have done, threatening a doctor with her.

“I can't imagine why she thought I'd be able to get her the hospital room she wanted.”

“You help her get everything she wants.”

Grace hesitated. Had that been a compliment, or a criticism?

“That's my job,” she said, watching him closely for a response.

He studied her in return. “That is your job, isn't it?”

Grace looked toward the couch. She was pretty sure Sophia was sleeping through this conversation. Well, her sister had pneumonia. She was supposed to be sleeping right now; that was her job. Sophia had to look smart and mature—no, down-to-earth—and unaffected by the antics of an LA disc jockey when she appeared at the Texas Rescue benefit in one week. In order to pull that off, she needed to get healthy. And she needed Alex.

Which meant Grace had a job to do.

It was time to turn Alex into the perfect man for her sister.