by Kay Lyons
“What are we going to do? Oh, Hal, I’m so sorry. I didn’t— We didn’t— We never talked about this.”
He kissed her forehead and adjusted his hold until they both sat on the bathroom floor with Ellen cradled in his arms and looking up at him in embarrassed panic. He chuckled softly. “Maybe not, but don’t be sorry. I’m not. As to what we’ll do, we’re going to get you one of those home tests. And then…” His grin widened even more. He didn’t need a test to tell him the truth. The moodiness and fatigue, the changes he’d noticed in Ellen’s body over the past few weeks. “Then we’ll see if I’m going to be a daddy again.”
* * *
MELISSA DIDN’T HAVE time to be nervous the next morning. She waited until she heard her father stirring and then locked herself in the shower to avoid him. After last night’s fight she didn’t think there was much left to say, and when she emerged he was gone. She figured it was for the best. No way did she want to risk another argument before work.
Bryan was waiting for her when she arrived, and he quickly ran over the procedure for handling patients, the phones, and taught her what little he knew of the new computer system. She wasn’t afraid of technology and Bryan’s setup was pretty self-explanatory. Within moments she had a general idea of how to use it, where to enter payments and schedule appointments. And then it was time for the real test of her abilities.
Bryan unlocked the door and the first fifteen minutes set the course for the day. People came in for their appointments and she became the talk of the waiting room, no doubt the talk of the town. Behind the chest-high wall surrounding most of the reception desk, Melissa tried hard to ignore them while keeping up with everything that needed to be done.
“That’s Hal’s girl, isn’t it?” Mrs. McCleary’s voice carried despite her attempt to whisper. “She sick again?”
“I was friends with her mother,” another voice informed them. “God rest her soul.”
A chair squeaked. “Who’s sick again?”
“Hal’s girl,” said the second voice. “The one who said Joe Brody shook her baby to death.”
“They say stress is bad for a body.” Mrs. McCleary tsked. “Wonder if the news Joe was innocent made her feel so guilty it came back?”
“My Amy said Melissa was in the room when Joe’s new baby was born,” yet another female voice told them all. “That couldn’t have been healthy for her, either.”
“My niece has breast cancer. Only got a few months they said. Just got diagnosed a month ago, but it’s everywhere.”
“Betcha she’ll die young, just like her mother.”
Melissa gasped softly, wondering if they spoke of her or the poor woman recently diagnosed. Either way, it was a cruel thing to say. Thoughtless, mean-spirited. Why didn’t people think before they spoke?
“Nice of Dr. Bryan to let her work while she’s able, don’t you think?”
“She must just be filling in. I mean—” the voice lowered “—everybody knows he likes his help to be…friendly, if you know what I mean. Do you think her and the doc are—”
“Mrs. McCleary?” Melissa called, standing. She studied the older women in the corner seats, hoping to shame them and their gossiping ways. Mrs. McCleary wasn’t embarrassed, though. She simply lifted her chin higher, one of those people who thought age gave her the right to say anything she pleased. “Follow me.”
The file shook in her trembling hand and Melissa clutched it to her chest to still the telltale movement. Walking down the hall, Mrs. McCleary behind her, Melissa said a quick prayer for the unknown woman fighting the battle against cancer and held her head high when she settled the older woman inside an exam room.
“You filling in for Holly?” Mrs. McCleary asked, her earrings bobbing along with her chins.
“No, ma’am. I’m the new office manager.”
“Is that right?”
Mrs. McCleary instilled enough doubt in her question that Melissa fought the urge to double-check her employment status.
“Guess I’m just surprised to see you here.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well…you know. You and Dr. Booker…you’re seeing him now?”
She managed a tense smile. “No, ma’am. Like I said, I’m the new office manager. The doctor will be right in.” That said, Melissa bit off the rest of the response she wanted to make and went back to her desk.
The talk continued. With every new arrival and departure word spread, the knowledge that she was, incredibly, Dr. Love’s newest hire. The gossip began with rehashing her cancer diagnosis and ended with speculation as to whether she was sleeping with Bryan. If her father got wind of this, he’d be furious.
Didn’t people have better things to discuss? World politics, famine, a cure for cancer? Spying a small radio on the far side of the desk, she leaned over and turned it on, tuning it to a local station. The chatter stopped for a moment and Melissa smiled. Maybe if they had to shout over the noise, it would keep Bryan’s patients from talking about her?
Seconds passed, then the whispers began again.
Chapter 9
THAT AFTERNOON Bryan stared at the back of Melissa’s head. He told himself he needed to make sure she had things under control, but anyone could see she was fine. Melissa handled the job as if she was born to it, able to make order from the chaos of phones and people. Not just any people, either, but grumpy, impatient, nosy ones who didn’t know when to mind their own business, and who had to inform him, repeatedly, that Melissa had had cancer.
The reminders didn’t help, and they certainly didn’t keep him from pausing in the hallway between exam rooms to watch her bend over her desk, phone jammed to her ear, scribbling on a pad of paper, her long legs showcased in gray slacks that hugged her rear with palm-itching appeal.
Melissa laughed at something a patient said. The sound set fire to his blood. Is that what she’d sound like in bed?
He ran a hand over his face and smothered a groan. He couldn’t wait for Janice to get back to work so there would be someone else in the office. A chaperone of sorts. The only saving grace was that Melissa was blessedly unaware of his distraction.
Shaking his head, Bryan banked his thoughts and entered Room 1. “How are we doing today?” he asked automatically, belatedly realizing the patient was Amanda Warner, the mayor’s latest wife.
“I’m better now that you’re here. I was beginning to think you were ignoring me.”
“I’m running behind.”
“Well, you’re here now.” She smiled. “I’ve missed you, Bryan.”
He flipped through a page or two in Amanda’s chart and noted that Melissa’s handwriting had started out neat on the page, but had gotten a bit shaky at the end. Had Amanda said something to her? Made some comment like all the others? “What’s the problem today?” He decided to leave the door open a large crack behind him when he saw her expression.
He sincerely doubted she was here for anything medical. Maybe an open door would curb her typical brazenness. “Says here you hurt you knee playing tennis?”
She laughed softly. “I had to tell her something. Especially with all those old biddies out there listening to every word. But for the record, the pain radiates up to…here.” Amanda stroked her inner thigh. “Close the door, Bryan. I need to discuss something private with you.”
“Something medical?” he asked pointedly.
“A horrible ache I’ve been having.” She patted the table where she sat. “Come on, get over here and you can take care of it for me.”
“Amanda.”
“My marrying George does not have to change what we shared,” she insisted. “I remember how much you used to appreciate a little love in the afternoon.”
“It was fun while it lasted, Amanda, but your marriage does change things and you know it. We’ve been over this. Why don’t you go home to your husband and make him the same offer? I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” he murmured. “I’ve got patients waiting.”
Amanda’s gaze na
rrowed, and she hopped onto her feet with the agility of a gymnast. “You don’t do high-and-mighty well, Bryan.”
He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I’m not trying to. Have a good afternoon, Amanda.”
“Does she do it for you?”
Don’t ask. “Who?”
“The medical case study at your front desk.”
“For the love of—”
“Everyone’s talking about it, wondering. So tell me, are you desperate or just giving the poor girl a good time because you feel sorry for her?”
He closed the distance between them, lowering his head until he stood nearly nose-to-nose with her. “You’re mad at me, not her. Leave Melissa out of this.”
“Oh, touchy. I wonder why?” Amanda put her hand on his cheek, slid it down his neck to his chest and stroked. “Come on, Bryan, you can’t seriously be saying no. You know as well as I do that you need a real woman to satisfy you.”
“Melissa is a real woman.”
Amanda drew back, her mouth curling up in a surprised smirk. “So you are sleeping with her? Get off on the boy look, do you?”
He swore softly. “Goodbye, Amanda.”
Her nails dug into his arm. “You can’t blame me for getting upset, Bryan. Are you seriously sleeping with Hal York’s daughter?”
How had they gotten so far off course? “Who I’m sleeping with—or not—is none of your business.”
Anger clouded her heavily made-up eyes. “Well, well. You do realize, of course, the darling chief will have your head on a platter the moment she sheds a tear?”
He shoved her hand away.
“Bryan, play nice,” she said in a cajoling tone. “You know I’m right. You and I are two of a kind. You have nothing in common with the little Goody Two-shoes out there. We understand each other and there’s no reason we can’t have our fun—”
“Trust me, Amanda, there are a lot of reasons.” She sucked in an insulted breath he ignored. “The bottom line is we aren’t happening. Ever. Now I’ve got to go. I have patients waiting who actually do need medical care.”
Her cool gray eyes narrowed into catlike slits. “Your little receptionist isn’t woman enough to keep a man like you satisfied for long.”
Bryan didn’t comment because it would do him no good to defend Melissa to Amanda or anyone else. They’d think what they liked. Shaking his head in disgust, he grasped the door handle and pulled, but got a kick in the gut when he spotted Melissa in the hall. Hoping against hope she hadn’t heard, he glanced back at Amanda and saw her smiling widely and doing a poor imitation of surprise.
“Oh, dear. Caught in the act,” Amanda murmured.
Bryan stepped forward. “Melissa—”
“You’ve patients waiting, Dr. Booker.”
Melissa raced past him. He wanted to grab her, stop her, but didn’t. She’d heard him and Amanda talking, knew what had occurred between them, but maybe that was best for them both. Safer. But from the look on her face, the revulsion she felt that he’d been with Amanda, not for the first time he wished he could go back and undo the things he’d done. Change the past.
“Poor little thing.” Amanda slid her fingers over his chest. “You really shouldn’t tease her so. I don’t think you’re sleeping with her, but now that she’s seen how you treat your lady friends, well…I don’t see it happening at all, do you? Her little oops with Joe Brody was enough to tighten her chastity belt.” She wrinkled her nose and shivered delicately. “Although there’s something to be said for big, brawny men. Rumor has it she and Joe are still quite close.”
“Get out, Amanda, and find a new doctor. Whatever you do, don’t step foot in here again.”
* * *
MELISSA LOCKED the front door to the practice that evening and forced herself not to drop her head to the surface with a groan.
“It wasn’t what you thought.”
Tensing, she squared her shoulders. Smiling was more difficult, but she managed a weak attempt. “Your sex life is none of my business.”
“I didn’t have sex with her in the exam room.”
“Sneak her into your office instead?” Shut up, shut up, shut up! “Sorry. It’s been a long day.” She didn’t look at him as she stalked over to the desk.
“For the record, I didn’t invite her into my office or anywhere else in the practice for a quickie. I don’t sleep with married women.”
Relief poured through her at his words. “Good for you. Especially if you’re serious about this fund-raiser. A big no-no is sleeping with the mayor’s wife. People have a tendency to frown on such things, and he won by a landslide.”
“Amanda was a mistake I made when I first moved here. I ended it right afterward, but she hasn’t taken the hint and comes back periodically to try again.”
“I’m sure the mayor appreciates that.” Melissa yanked open the drawer that held her purse. She was going home. Then maybe to the B and B. Some time spent baby snuggling would surely lower her BP, and right now it had to be sky-high.
Not woman enough?
It didn’t take a woman to sleep around or cheat on a husband. In her opinion, it took one not to.
“Melissa.” Bryan turned her to face him. “I’m sorry she took her anger with me out on you.”
“Forget it.” She pulled away. “I know exactly what I am, and she’s right.”
“Right in what way?”
“Oh, please, isn’t it obvious? You practically made a puddle right there on the floor when she flashed her cleavage at you! And that remark about being woman enough? It takes more than playing the sex kitten to be ‘woman enough.’”
“Then we agree, but how is she right?”
“Because it’s also normal to think a female with big boobs and a decent set of features is attractive, married or not, and that’s how she’s right—because men have brainwashed women to measure their worth through the size of their breasts, and regardless of my history and what people know about me, I’m woman enough to realize that isn’t true.”
“What if I told you it’s not just women who can make the distinction?” he argued. “What if I said guys like more than breasts in a woman?”
She raised her brows high and crossed her arms over her front—her flat front. “I’d say you’re wrong. There’s no need to lie or sugarcoat the obvious. Guys like breasts. Her comment didn’t hurt me, what hurts is the fact that the general population thinks the same way she does.”
“Why do you think that?”
Swallowing, she rolled her eyes, her anger surging up with tidal-wave strength and gushing out of her. “The first thing guys notice is a woman’s breasts, the bounce, the jiggle, whether or not their shirt is see-through. But if a woman doesn’t have the necessary body parts or, let’s say she does and they’re not to the guy’s satisfaction, then lo and behold, he suggests augmentation. It comes down to this—guys can be less than impressive, but heaven forbid a woman doesn’t have a body like a model, the breasts of a porn star or the sex drive of a teenaged boy because that upsets them! Men have no idea what real women are like—and neither does Amanda Warner.”
His mouth turned down at the corners. “You can’t lump men into a single category. Not all of us are obsessed with breasts.”
She snorted. What did he know about not being perfect? “Yeah, well, argue all you want, but when faced with someone like me in bed I’d bet you’d be all talk and no action.”
Silence.
Melissa stared up into Bryan’s face, her heart pounding so rapidly she actually saw spots in front of her eyes. Had she really just gone off on Bryan like a bitter, breastless shrew? He was her boss! Her words had come out like a challenge. Like she begged him to—
Whirling, breathless, Melissa grabbed her purse and ran for the door, well aware Bryan’s eyes bored a hole into her back.
What had she done?
What had she said?
She’d never be able to face Bryan again.
* * *
MELISSA HELD the bab
y close and smiled. “I can’t get over how much she’s changed already.” She looked up at the tired mother. “Or that they released you so soon.”
“Insurance companies have a tendency to do that these days.” Ashley leaned back against the couch with a sigh. “I’m just glad you’re here. With Dara hustling to get dinner for the guests and keeping an eye on Max until Joe gets home from work, I was afraid to fall asleep. It’s almost Issy’s dinnertime, and I would no sooner shut my eyes than she’d be telling me that.”
“Well,” Melissa murmured, careful to keep her tone soft, “I’m more than happy to take care of Miss Issy’s dinner. Miss Issy, would you like a pink bottle or a purple one?”
Ashley laughed softly. “Designer bottles. Who’d ever have thought I’d actually own designer bottles?”
“Hey, when Dad said to go for it, I did. It was so much fun shopping for stuff like that, and the least we could do for little Issy here after…everything.”
“And the rest of the stuff you bought her?”
“Pure indulgence,” she said with a grin. “Now go to sleep. You need to rest.”
“The mood has passed,” Ashley said even as she smothered a yawn. “I’d rather have company. And find out how your first day at work went.”
Melissa wrinkled her nose. “It was okay.”
“Uh-huh. Who said what?”
“Where do I begin?” She smoothed a fingertip over the baby’s soft, chubby cheek and raised her head to meet Ashley’s gaze. Had it only been yesterday? “I’m sorry for running out on you at the hospital. It was unbelievably rude.”
“Don’t think anything of it. I know it’s got to be hard holding Issy when Josie wasn’t much bigger when she died.”
As it always did, her heart constricted at the mention of her daughter. “It is…but that wasn’t why.” Melissa bit her lower lip and shifted the baby slightly. “Yesterday when— Issy rooted me.”
“Oh, Melissa.”
“It’s okay,” she stressed. “I just wasn’t expecting it and it came on top of everything going on with my dad and his sudden declaration he’s getting married. Did I tell you he left a message for me to meet him downstairs for dinner at seven? To talk,” she said, mimicking her father’s stern tone. “If we were dating I’d think he wanted to break up with me and was trying to avoid a scene. I mean, no offense, but we could just as easily eat at home alone, you know? I can’t help but think he wants to spring another surprise on me, and I wonder what I’ll do if he does?”
