by Joan Reeves
She was too scared that he'd suddenly remember her, and that embarrassing Christmas prom, to be concerned that she had been less than memorable to him. Jennifer felt as if she'd reverted to her insecure youth. Get control of yourself, she scolded, speak up! Otherwise, she'd find herself flat on her back with her feet in the stirrups in a minute. And embarrassed beyond belief. She couldn't let him continue with this.
"Do you examine your breasts regularly?" he asked, looking at her chart.
"What?" Jennifer squawked.
He smiled reassuringly. "Let's take a look, shall we?"
When he stood, she finally found her voice. "Let's not!"
Her near scream stopped him in his tracks. "Now, Dr. Monroe, as a professional, you realize the importance of these checkups, don't you?"
"Of course," she sputtered, certain that she'd melt into a pool of humiliation, roll off the table, and land next to his polished leather loafers. She was certainly hot enough to melt, she thought, knowing a furious blush covered her entire body.
"Then what is the problem?" He smiled patiently and sat back down on the stool. He swiveled gently back and forth and acted as if he had all the time in the world.
"The problem?" Jennifer repeated dumbly, glancing at the nurse who suddenly appeared to be engrossed in the scene playing itself out.
"Yes. The problem. Even modesty shouldn't prevent your getting the medical care you need. Don't you agree?"
Reluctantly, she nodded. Her brain felt so sluggish that she couldn't figure a way out of this sophomoric nightmare. When he stood up again, she scooted back on the table until her back was literally against the wall. "No!" She squeaked.
"Now, Dr. Monroe. Jennifer, if you'll just relax. Take a deep breath and calm down. Let's talk about this."
"Let's not," Jennifer said between chattering teeth. Wildly, she looked around the room for an escape hatch. She said the first thing she could think of. "I need to go to the bathroom."
He eyed her suspiciously. "Very well. Why don't I give you a few minutes to collect yourself?" He turned and opened the door. The nurse preceded him. He closed the door quietly after his departure. Immediately, Jennifer heard gales of laughter from the hallway. She didn't need to see what was happening to know that Nurse Giggles was having a hell of a laugh.
Resentfully, she leaped off the table and ripped the paper gown off. If only she had a sack she could put over her head so no one would recognize her when she made her escape, she thought. She'd never be able to come back here again. Too bad. She'd liked Sylvia Haddad. But she'd never be comfortable knowing that Matt Penrose was here too.
When Sylvia's receptionist had called to tell Jennifer that a different doctor would be seeing her, a respected OB/GYN who was going into practice with Sylvia, Jennifer had thought little of it.
Too bad I didn't know that Dr. Joseph Penrose who was moving his practice from Conroe to Dallas was my Matt Penrose. I could have avoided this whole nightmare.
Quickly, Jennifer wadded the disposable gown into a ball and dropped it in the trash can as if it had singed her fingers. She dressed faster than she ever had in her life, determined to make a getaway before Dr. Snake In The Grass and Nurse Giggles returned. She didn't even bother trying to wriggle into the misty black panty hose she'd worn. She tossed them into the trash too. She didn't notice that one nylon foot caught on the rim of the container.
She slipped her shoulder bag strap across her neck and listened with an ear to the door for the space of a few heartbeats. Then she carefully eased the door open. A quick look down the short hallway showed Nurse Giggles weighing a very pregnant woman.
Matt was nowhere in sight though she could hear the quiet rumble of his voice. He must be in one of the other examination rooms, she thought. He could open the door at any moment!
Jennifer wasted no more time. She exited the room then tiptoed down to the door that led to the reception area. Oh, damn, she thought, looking at the counter where you paid before leaving. The secretary sat there, talking on the phone.
She had two choices: crouch down and sneak away or brazen it out. Drawing a deep breath, Jennifer drew herself up to her full five and a half feet and stalked up to the counter. With a bright smile, she lied, "I've been called away on an emergency. I'm sorry, but I can't wait any longer. If there's a bill for the doctor's time, simply send it to my office. I'll see that it's paid. Thanks a lot."
She turned to go, but the secretary burst out, "Dr. Monroe? Wait! You can't go out like that."
"Of course, I can. You can't keep me here," she said between gritted teeth. Gripping the shoulder strap of her black leather purse with one hand and carrying her gray suit jacket with the other, she edged toward the door.
"No, ma'am. Of course not. But, wait a moment."
"Just do as I ask, please," Jennifer demanded sternly, refusing to stay another moment lest Matt walk over to see what the uproar was. She'd caused enough scenes this morning. One more would traumatize her, she thought, flinging the door open.
"But, doctor," the secretary called. "Wait."
"Got to run." Jennifer dashed through the door and slammed it.
Feeling triumphant, she marched down the hallway to the elevators with her back straight. And the white label of her wrong-side-out gray blouse prominently displayed.
She didn't slow her breakneck pace until she reached her car in the parking lot. With a deep breath, she drew in the pleasantly warm October air and slid behind the steering wheel of her gold Lexus.
* * *
Matt Penrose saw the wisp of nylon peeking over the edge of the trash can. He lifted the pair of sheer black panty hose and studied them. Jennifer Monroe was positively squirrelly, but she had good taste in hosiery. She'd been in such a hurry that she'd discarded the expensive hose, he figured, rather than try to wiggle into them at warp speed.
Matt sniffed the air delicately. Beautiful by Estee Lauder. The same thing his sister wore. Good taste in perfume too. He shook his head in disbelief. It was difficult to believe that the woman had a thriving practice as a family therapist. If ever a physician needed to heal herself, she was one. She had a major hangup, probably sexual in nature. Regardless of her problems though, she still needed her annual checkup.
For a moment, he was tempted to just make a note for Sylvia, but his conscience wouldn't let him off that easily. Plus, he'd be a bit embarrassed to admit to Sylvia that he'd scared one of her patients away. Sylvia hadn't changed since medical school. The woman would tease him unmercifully.
"Call Dr. Monroe's office and leave a message for her to call me please," he told the nurse, not letting his chagrin shade his voice.
"I heard in nursing school about women who were afraid of pelvics, but I thought they meant women like my mother. Why I have to badger her to go every year. Mom's nearly forty. At her age, you'd think she'd know better, wouldn't you?"
Matt cringed at the nurse's insensitive comment. The woman was unbelievable. Since Nurse Anders seemed to think that anyone over thirty-five was over the hill, he wondered if it would do any good to tell her that he was almost at that magical milestone.
Irritated, he ceased listening to the nurse's numbing chatter and thought about his escaped patient. He was determined to convince Jennifer Monroe that false modesty shouldn't stand between a woman and her health. If that's what was wrong with the woman.
Absently, he fingered the silky hose. He couldn't believe any woman in this day and age had behaved like Jennifer. Surely she didn't think there was anything sexual about a gynecological exam?
With a shrug, he tucked the panty hose in his lab coat pocket and went on to the next patient. If she did think that, then he'd just have to convince her otherwise.
* * *
Jennifer's hand shook so badly she could hardly insert the key into the ignition. She leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, took a deep breath and tried again. This time she got it.
After she'd backed out and pulled onto the street, she turned the
air conditioning on. The blast of cold air felt good on her burning cheeks. How could she have acted like such an idiot?
How could Dr. Penrose, Sylvia's new partner, have turned out to be the one man she'd never wanted to see again? How on earth had Matt gotten from Michigan to Texas? What were the odds of something completely freaky like that happening? Jennifer didn't know the answer to any of those questions and wasn't sure she wanted to find out.
Actually, his presence in Texas was no more surprising than hers. Dallas was one of the largest cities in the United States due in great part to all the refugees from cold country. Still, she'd have thought that the odds of becoming the next Texas Lotto millionaire would have been more easily surmounted than the odds of bumping into her first love again.
She drove erratically, earning the censure of other drivers who displayed their ire with their vehicles' horns. By some miracle, she managed to get herself onto Central Expressway without causing an accident. As usual, the north-south artery was choked with bumper to bumper traffic.
"You'd better get your mind off that debacle back there and on your driving or you'll end up wrapped around a light pole," she said aloud, forcing herself to ease off the accelerator and slow to the posted speed limit. That's all she would need today--an accident that would dent her new Lexus.
Good grief! Of all the things that could have happened today, running into Matt Penrose would never have been on the list. It seemed so surreal that he was here in her city. With any luck, and a couple of glasses of wine, she might be able to erase the embarrassment she felt from the morning. Alva would really get a kick out of the story, but Jennifer would never tell this tale. The cringe factor was too strong.
The incident kept replaying in her mind like a YouTube video stuck on repeat as she drove back to her office. With a sigh of relief, she parked behind the black mirrored building that contained her suite of offices.
Quickly grabbing her suit jacket from the passenger seat and her handbag, she popped the release on the trunk and retrieved her black calfskin briefcase then hurried across to the lobby, anxious for the security of her familiar office.
Crossing the marble-tiled floor, she noticed that the security guard and two men chatting by the revolving door stared at her. In fact, everyone she passed seemed to stop and look.
By the time she stepped out of the elevator, she had begun to think her humiliating experience was written in bold print across her face. She'd never been stared at so much. She could swear that muffled laughter erupted behind her every time she passed someone. What was wrong with everyone?
Maybe it was her hair, she thought. Automatically, her hand went up to smooth the short strands. I must look completely disheveled. There had been no time to comb her flyaway hair into the sedate, nearly severe style she wore. She'd been in too much of a hurry. She'd never realized how many steps it took to reach her office door from the elevator, but finally she crossed its threshold.
"Good morning, Cathy." She tried to smile at her secretary as if today were like any other day. She set her briefcase next to Cathy's desk.
The matronly woman who'd worked for her since Jennifer had established her practice smiled back. "Your mail's on your desk, and I just put a fresh pot of coffee on. Would you like," she broke off and frowned.
Cathy Zelig slid the half-frame reading glasses farther down her nose and looked Jennifer up and down. "Jen, honey, are you aware that your blouse is on wrong side out?"
"What?" Jennifer dropped her jacket and her handbag as she whirled to look at the ornate gold-framed mirror on the wall behind her. "Oh, no!" Her humiliation was complete.
The quiet buzz of the phone intruded. "Dr. Monroe's office." A worried frown marred Cathy's usually cheerful face. "Just a moment and let me see if she has come in yet." Cathy pushed the hold button. "It's Dr. Penrose. His office called once already. Now he's on the line himself."
"No. Oh, no!" Jennifer backed away from the proffered phone. "I'm not in." Shaking her head furiously she grabbed her purse and jacket and started to retreat.
"Jen, is something wrong? I've never seen you like this."
"No. Nothing. I'll be in my office the rest of the afternoon. Except to him. Tell him. . . tell him I had an emergency." She turned, nearly running for her private office.
"But, Jen, what kind of emergency?"
"I don't know. Any kind. A meeting. A house call. I don't care what you say. Make something up." She ignored Cathy's worried clucking and ducked through the heavy walnut door that led to her inner office.
Jennifer sagged against the sturdy panel and closed her eyes. A sigh, more nearly a groan, escaped her compressed lips. Why was that man pursuing her? Couldn't he see she didn't want anything to do with him?
After a minute, she straightened. You're behaving like a child, she scolded herself silently. Get a grip, girl.
Spine stiff, she pushed away from the door and went to the small attached bathroom. She hung her jacket on a clothes hanger and placed it and her purse on the hook behind the door.
Staring into the mirror, she spoke to her reflection. "You acted like a jackass, Jennifer Louise Thornhill Monroe. What must that man think of you?"
Not that she cared what he thought. She'd been crazy in love with him. Puppy love her mother had diagnosed it. But Jennifer, surprisingly mature for her age, had known that it was deeper than that. Matt had talked to her as if she were a person, not a pair of breasts. That was why his betrayal the night of the Christmas dance had hurt so deeply.
Jennifer blinked hard at her reflection and willed the memory away. Seeing herself in the mirror as Cathy and the security guards, and Sylvia Haddad's receptionist had seen her, suddenly struck her as hilarious. The giggle that escaped her reminded her of Nurse Giggles. Where had Sylvia found the young woman? And why didn't she send her back?
One giggle led to another until soon Jennifer was laughing hysterically as she thought of the picture she must have made, clutching the paper gown and scooting away from the earnest Dr. Penrose. And he had seemed earnest, damn his gorgeous blue eyes.
She laughed so hard, she had to sit down on the lid of the toilet while she wiped tears from her eyes. Finally with a deep sigh, she removed the gray silk blouse and righted it.
A few moments later, her reflection showed her familiar studious self, she thought, brushing her straight hair back from her face that had recovered its normal color. She misted it lightly with hair spray.
Within minutes she had her professional manner in place. That was better, she thought. She felt back in control. She studied her reflection from both sides. She looked in control. Gone was the hysteria.
All she needed was a cup of coffee and a sandwich and she'd be just fine, she reassured herself. Hunger might have affected her judgment a little, she reasoned. She'd skipped breakfast since she knew she'd be eating an early lunch with Alva.
Alva! Oh my goodness! She'd completely forgotten about Alva.
Jennifer looked at her watch and groaned. It was an hour past the time she'd agreed to meet her friend. She fished her cell phone from her purse and tried to call Alva, but she got only voice mail. Her office phone buzzed quietly.
"Yes, Cathy?"
"Alva called earlier. I told her then that you must be running late from your doctor's appointment. She said she'd give you a raincheck and that you were picking up the tab as punishment for making her wait."
Jennifer grinned. "If that's the only penance I have to pay then I figure I've gotten off lightly."
Cathy laughed. "Are you okay now, Jen?"
"I will be as soon as I get something to eat. Would you order me a club sandwich from the grill downstairs? And a Coca Cola also please. I think a little icy cold caffeine and sugar is called for."
"What happened this morning?"
"Oh, nothing. I just got tired of waiting," Jennifer said. "Let me know as soon as the food gets here."
"I will. But, Jen, Dr. Penrose sounded very worried. Don't you think you should call hi
m? He left all his phone numbers in case you wanted to reach him after hours."
"I don't think that's necessary, Cathy. Just throw the note away." She hung up and opened the case file on her afternoon appointment, determined not to think about the morning's events any longer.
With any luck, she'd manage to shove this latest incident with Matt Penrose into the dusty corner of her mind where she kept those memories of her awkward adolescence.
Before today, she hadn't laid eyes on him in over fifteen years. Dallas was a big place. There was no reason why she shouldn't go another fifteen years without seeing him again.
Chapter 3
Two days later, Jennifer discovered one very good reason why Matt Penrose must have reappeared in her life. In a word, Fate. That was the only explanation, she thought, peeking out from behind a potted palm in a corner of the Michelangelo Ballroom at The Renaissance Hotel. Maybe some mysterious cosmic force thought she needed a little adversity in her life. What other reason could there be for running into Matt here, tonight?
For two days, she'd avoided his calls and tried to put him out of her mind--which was far from easy since he seemed to have specialized in persistence at medical school, she thought.
Jennifer pushed the palm fronds farther apart in order to get a better look at him and the model-thin blonde who stared up at him with rapt attention. Thank goodness he'd been preoccupied with the blonde when Jennifer had caught sight of him only moments ago.
Somehow it wasn't fair, she thought, that she was hiding from him when he was the reason, in a roundabout way, that she had decided, with a little arm-twisting from Alva, to attend this society event. Alva, darn her, had half-convinced Jennifer that she'd have fun tonight.
