“I’ll take both,” she heard Phil say just before he noticed her at the door. “Hey, I saved you a seat.” He patted the chair next to him. “What kind of sandwich do you want?”
“Turkey?”
“We need a turkey over here,” he called to Claire.
Stephanie ducked as the lunch missile almost hit her head before she could sit. A smile worked its way from one side of her mouth to the other. These people might be crazy, but they were fun.
“Sorry!” Claire called out.
“No problem.” She had to admit that she kind of liked this friendly chaos. It was distracting, and that was always a good thing. When her gaze settled on Phil, he was already watching her, a smile very similar to the one she’d seen in her office lingering on his lips.
“I’m glad you decided to come.”
If he was a player, she got the distinct impression he was circling her. How in the world should she feel about that? Lunch was one thing, but what if he asked her out? Hearing how he struggled with Robbie had shown her another side of him. This guy had a heart beneath all that puffed-up male plumage, she’d bet her first paycheck on it. She wasn’t sure she could make the same claim for herself.
“Okay, everybody, let’s get going on this.” Jason stood at the head of the long table, his mere presence commanding attention. Dark hair, pewter eyes, suntanned face, she could see why Claire watched him so adoringly. “Last year we came in third in the Santa Barbara Chamber of Commerce Christmas Ocean Parade, and this year I think we have a fighting chance of taking first if we put our heads together and come up with a theme.”
“You mean like Christmas at Christmastime?” Jon looked perplexed by the obvious.
“He means like Santa and his helpers, or Christmas shopping mania, or the North Pole,” Claire shot back.
“How about trains?” Jon said. “Boys love trains at Christmas.”
“What about trains and dolls?” Jon’s nurse added, with a wayward glance.
“How about Christmas around the world?” Stephanie’s nurse, Amy, spoke up. “We could cover the yacht with small Christmas trees decorated the way other countries do, and the mast could be a huge Christmas tree all made from lights.”
The conversation buzzed and hummed in response to the first ideas. It seemed everyone had a suggestion. Everyone but Stephanie. She particularly liked what Amy had suggested.
What did she remember most from Christmas besides the beautifully decorated trees? Santa, that’s what. “Could we have a Santa by the big tree?” She said her thought out loud by mistake.
“Yeah, we need a Santa up there,” Phil backed her up.
“And I nominate you to be Santa,” Claire said, pointing to Phil with an impish smile. “You’d be adorable.”
“Me! You’ve got to be kidding! I scare kids.”
“Oh, right, and Robbie doesn’t adore you. Yeah, I think you should be Santa and Gina and Robbie can sit on your lap.” Claire wouldn’t back down.
“No way,” he said, with an are-you-crazy glare in his eyes. Out of the corner of his mouth he said, “Thanks a lot,” to Stephanie.
“Great idea,” one of the nurses blurted across the table, before a few others chimed in. “Yeah.”
“But I am the un-Santa.” He glanced at Stephanie again, this time with a back-me-up-here plea in his eyes.
Not about to get involved in the debate, she lifted her brows, shrugged and took a bite of her sandwich.
“Look,” Jason said. “We need to get more people involved on the yacht, and you haven’t been much help the last couple of years.” There was a sparkle in Jason’s eyes, as if he enjoyed putting Phil on the spot. “Should everyone be elves?” he asked, his mouth half-full of sandwich.
“What if one person stood by each decorated country’s tree dressed in the traditional outfit?” Amy seemed to be on a roll. “You know, lederhosen, kilt, cowboy hat…oh, and what’s that Russian fur thing called? Ushanka? And what about a dashiki or caftan, oh, wait, and a kimono, or a sari or…”
“That’s a fantastic idea,” Claire said.
Revved up, Amy grinned, and Stephanie nodded with approval at her. Phil squeezed her forearm. Okay, everything was a great idea except for Santa.
General agreement hummed through the room, and several people soon chimed in. Wow. I like that. Good idea.
The receptionist, Gaby, wearing glasses that covered half of her face, took notes like a court reporter.
“Did you get that?” Jason asked her.
Gaby nodded, never looking up, not breaking her bound-for-writer’s-cramp speed.
“Ah, then we shouldn’t need a Santa anymore,” Phil said, sounding relieved.
“Of course we will,” Claire said. “One Santa unites them all, and Phil will be it.”
Stephanie’s eyes widened and from the side, she noticed his narrow betrayed-looking gaze directed at Claire.
“I say we take a vote on who should be Santa, the captain of the boat or me,” he said, just before his beeper went off. “Damn. It’s day care. I’ve got to take this.” He strode out of the room, the doors swinging in his wake.
Jason snagged the opportunity. “Okay, everyone agree Phil’s Santa?”
Everyone laughed and nodded. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance. Stephanie had to admit she sort of felt sorry for him.
Phil stepped back into the room, half of his mouth hitched but not in a smile. “I’ve got to make a quick run over to day care. Robbie’s refusing to cooperate with nap time.”
Jason nodded. “Let us know if you need to reschedule some appointments.”
“It shouldn’t take long. I’ve just got to make the kid understand he has to follow the rules—” Phil snapped his fingers as if the greatest idea in the universe had just occurred to him “—or he won’t get afternoon snack!”
Stephanie laughed. The guy was barely coping with this new responsibility, but he wasn’t griping. He seemed to catch on quickly, and, she had to admit, it made her like him even more. She glanced around the table at all the adoring female gazes on him. Okay, so she’d finally joined the club.
“So who’s Santa this year?” Phil asked, one hand on the door.
Jason grinned. “You!”
He flashed a glance at Stephanie, pointed, and mouthed, “You owe me.”
Chapter Three
PHIL finished entering the list of orders in the computer for his last patient of the afternoon. His mind had been wandering between the appointments, and Stephanie Bennett was the reason. She was as guarded as a locked box. Then out of nowhere today this fun-loving Santa-of-the-world fan had emerged, and it had backfired and landed him on a date with a red suit.
Something held her back from enjoying life, and he’d probably never find out in two months what it was, but romantic that he was, he still wanted to get to know her better. The time restraint was a perfect excuse to keep things casual and uninvolved. Just his style.
But there was Robbie—a full-time job. No way could he squeeze in a romantic fling until his father and Roma came home.
He pushed Enter on the computer program and shut it down.
Good thing he’d lined up Gaby for child care on Saturday morning.
Jason had asked him to stop by his office on his way out today, so he trotted up the back stairs to the second floor. Aw, damn, he’d caught Jason and Claire kissing. He stepped back from the doorway. They seemed to do that a lot and hadn’t even heard him. Yeah, they were newlyweds but, still, they were married, with children! He marveled at the phenomenon. Come to think of it, his dad and Roma did a lot of smooching, too.
Maybe players like him didn’t corner the market on romance.
He decided to talk to Jason later, then padded down the stairs and veered toward Stephanie’s office, a place he’d been drawn to like a magnet lately. Just as he passed Jon’s door he heard his name.
“Hey, Phil, come take a look at the latest pictures.”
Oh, man, he knew exactly what those pictures wo
uld be. Evan, his newborn son, seemed to be the center of Jon’s universe these days. Being just outside Jon’s office, Phil couldn’t very well avoid the invitation.
What was with his partners? They’d all settled down, leaving him the lone bachelor. The thing that really perplexed him was that they all seemed so damn blissful. Well, he wasn’t into matrimonial bliss. No way. No how. He liked his freedom. Liked being alone. He glanced at Stephanie’s office. At least now he knew someone else who liked being single.
Except for Robbie staying with him, he hadn’t lived with anyone since his med-school roommates. And he really didn’t miss their stinky socks and dirty underwear tossed around the cramped apartment. Come to think of it, Robbie’s socks ran a close second, and the kid knew nothing about putting things away. He smiled at the image of his little half brother strutting around in his underwear with pictures of superheroes pasted all over. Even his nighttime diapers had cartoon characters decorating them. What in the world had his life turned into?
An odd sensation tugged somewhere so buried inside he couldn’t locate it, but the feeling still managed to get his attention. Heads up, dude. Take note. Maybe there’s something to be said for a good relationship and a family.
No. Way. Maybe it worked for other people, but he wasn’t capable of sustaining a long-term love affair. Wasn’t interested. He knew just as many people whose marriages didn’t work out. Hell, his own mother had walked out on them.
Nope. He liked the here and now, and when things got too deep or involved, he was out of there. Maybe he was more like his mom than he wanted to admit. His list of ex-girlfriends kept growing; many of them had since married and he was glad for them. It just wasn’t his thing.
Phil greeted Jon and fulfilled his obligation as a good coworker to ooh and aah over Jon and René’s new son. Then he patted him on the back, told him he was a lucky dog, and excused himself with a perfectly valid reason. “I’ve got to pick up Robbie.”
On his way out of the clinic, he glanced at Stephanie’s closed office door. What were the odds of him running into her at dinner again tonight?
Nope. If he wanted to spend some more time with her, he couldn’t depend on something as flimsy as fate. He’d need a plan.
Gaby had signed up to watch Robbie on Saturday morning. Maybe he’d make plans with Stephanie then. As for dinner tonight, he had a date with his kid brother for a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup.
Just seven more days.
Stephanie was aware that René mentored nurse practitioner students from the local university once a week, but hadn’t realized she’d be taking on this aspect of René’s job along with everything else. Thursday morning she was shadowed by a bright and pregnant-as-she-was-tall young woman filled with questions. Maria Avila had thick black hair and wore it piled on top of her head, and if she was trying to look taller, the extra hair didn’t help. Her shining dark eyes oozed intelligence and curiosity and her pleasant personality suited Stephanie just fine. After a full morning together, they prepared for the last appointment.
“If my next patient consents, I’ll guide you through bimanual pelvic examination.”
Stephanie fought back a laugh at the student’s excitement when she pumped the air with her fist.
“Have you done one before?”
“I’ve done them in class with a human-looking model,” Maria said.
Stephanie raised her brows. “That’s not nearly the same thing. I’ll do my best to get this opportunity for you. Now, here’s the woman’s story.” Stephanie recited the medical history from the computer for Maria. “What would you do for her today?”
Maria sat pensively for a few minutes then ran down a list of questions she’d ask and labs she’d recommend. Her instincts were right-on, and Stephanie thought she’d make a good care provider one day.
The examination went well, Stephanie stepped in to collect the Pap smear, and Maria was ecstatic she got hands-on experience. Fortunately the patient was fine with the extra medical care as long as Stephanie followed up with her own examination.
One of the ovaries was larger than normal, and tender to the touch. It could be something as simple as a cyst, but she wanted to make sure. She also wanted Maria to feel the small, subtle mass that she’d overlooked when she’d first performed the exam.
From the woman’s history she knew there wasn’t any ovarian cancer in her immediate family. She met some of the other risk factors, though. She had never been pregnant, was over fifty-five, and postmenopausal.
“Have you had any pain or pressure in your abdomen lately?”
The woman shook her head.
“Bloating or indigestion?”
“Doesn’t every woman get that?” the patient said, with a wry smile.
“You’ve got a point there.” Stephanie grinned back.
When she finished the exam, as she removed the gloves and washed her hands, she mentioned her plan of action. “I’m ordering a pelvic ultrasound to rule out a small cyst.” She didn’t want to alarm the woman about the potential for cancer due to her age, but finding any pathology early was the name of the game when it came to that disease. “I’ll request the study ASAP.”
The grateful woman thanked both of them and on her way out she hugged the student RNP, Maria. “Good luck with your pregnancy, and keep up your training. We need more people in the field.”
Her comment drove Stephanie to ask, “Are you in medicine?”
“I’m a nurse.”
Stephanie figured, being a nurse, the patient was already in a panic about what her slightly enlarged ovary might be.
“Don’t drive yourself crazy worrying about the worst-case scenario, Ms. Winkler, okay? The nodule didn’t feel hard or immovable. It’s most likely a cyst.”
The extra reassurance helped smooth the woman’s wrinkled brow, but nervous tension was still evident in her eyes when she left.
Stephanie briefed Maria on possible reasons why she’d missed the subtle change in the ovary and offered suggestions on hand placement while performing future examinations for best results.
They walked back to her office as Stephanie explained further for Maria.
“The worst thing we can do is leave a patient waiting for results, but sometimes our job is like a guessing game. We have to go through each step to rule out the problem. Fortunately, modern medicine usually gives us great results in a timely manner.”
“Waxing philosophical, Doc?” Phil’s distinct voice sent a quick chill down her spine.
How long had it been since that had happened with a man? Not since the first morning when she’d seen him, to be exact. “Can I do something for you, Phil?”
With a slow smile, he glanced first at Stephanie then at Maria, whose cheeks blushed almost immediately. What was with his power over women?
“Yeah. You can meet me at Stearn’s Wharf Saturday morning around nine.”
Was this his idea of asking her out? In front of the student nurse practitioner?
“Uh. You sort of caught me off guard.”
“Hmm. Like how you bamboozled me into being Santa?”
Okay, now she got it. It was payback time. She grimaced. “If it matters at all, I abstained from voting.”
“Warms my heart, Doc.” He patted his chest over his white doctor’s coat.
But meeting at the beach for what was predicted to be yet another gorgeous Santa Barbara day sounded more like reward than payback.
Maria cleared her throat. “I should be going and let you two work this out.”
“Oh, right.” Stephanie felt a blush begin. What kind of impression would she make with her student, making plans for a date right in front of her?
“Thanks so much, Dr. Bennett. You’ve been fantastic and I’ve learned a lot today,” Maria said.
“You’re welcome, and I guess I’ll see you next week?”
“Actually, that’s Thanksgiving. But I’ll be here the week after, that is if I don’t go into premature labor first!” The other
wise elfin woman beamed a smile, looked at Dr. Hansen again, subtly turned so only Stephanie could see her face, and mouthed, “Wow!” with crossed eyes to emphasize his affect on her, then left.
Stephanie didn’t even try to hide her grin. Yeah, he’s hunky.
Stephanie couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day on Saturday morning. There wasn’t a cloud in the cornflower-blue sky, and the sun spread its warmth on the top of her head and shoulders, making the brisk temperature refreshing. The ocean, like glittering blue glass along the horizon, tossed and rolled against the pier pilings, as raucous seagulls circled overhead. At home, the clean desert air was dry and gritty, but here on the wharf the ocean breeze with its briny scent energized her.
She hadn’t exactly said yes or no to Phil’s proposition on Thursday. She’d said she’d think about it, and he’d said he was planning to surf that morning anyway, so come if she felt like it. Well, she’d felt like it, and by virtue of the glorious view, she was already glad about her decision.
A group of surfers was a few hundred yards to the left of the pier, and though the odds were stacked against her, she tried to pick out Phil. With everyone wearing wet suits, it proved to be an impossible task.
“Here’s some coffee.”
Jumping, Stephanie pivoted to find Phil decked out in a wet suit, holding his surfboard under one arm and a take-out cup of coffee in another. He handed it to her as she worked at closing her mouth.
He was a vision in black neoprene. The suit left nothing of his sculpted body to her imagination—from neck to shoulders to thighs to calves, every part of him was pure perfection.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the coffee, unable to think of a single thing to say.
A Magical Christmas Page 35
