Prognosis: Romance

by Gina Wilkins

  He glanced at James. “It was my idea to invite some of our adult friends, too. Since Mia’s birthday is just a few weeks away, and I’ll be getting ready to leave for the away rotation then, it seemed like a good idea to sort of combine the two celebrations. It’s going to be a real casual thing. Mia and I will keep an eye on the kid party and take some pictures, but Alexis is at the age where she doesn’t want us hovering over her and her friends,” he added with a rueful expression. “She liked the idea of us having our own friends to play with inside.”

  Ron chuckled. “Wait until she starts inviting boys to her parties. She’s really going to want you to disappear then.”

  Connor scowled. “That’s when I’m going to be even more visible. I’m just glad she wanted only girls at this party.”

  Delighted to have a new target to tease, Ron began to taunt Connor with predictions of Alexis as a pretty teenager, bring home her first boyfriend, going to dances and prom. Groaning and reluctantly laughing, Connor didn’t have to entirely fake his dismay. He’d had his little girl for only three years, he said. He hated to think of her growing up that fast.

  Though the group lingered for a short time over post-meal coffees, Connor was the one who eventually brought the evening to an end. “Mia and Alexis should be home now,” he commented with a glance at his watch. “I’d like to spend a little time with them before Alexis’s bedtime.”

  James wondered if Ron’s hints about teenage years had made Connor want to hurry home to savor his daughter’s childhood as much as possible.

  “We should be getting home, too,” Haley murmured, reaching for her bag. “Ron and I both have to report at seven in the morning.”

  Aware that he was the only one going home to an empty apartment, James was sorry to see the dinner with his friends end. For the first time in his life, he felt truly a part of a closely knit group, and he enjoyed every moment with them. Like Connor, he was keenly aware of passing time. After graduation in May, the study group would be going in different directions for their residency programs. It would be harder to get together in the future. He would miss them all very much.

  He shook Ron’s hand in the parking lot, then watched Ron and Haley walk away, Ron’s arm slung casually around Haley’s shoulders. James noted in satisfaction that Haley didn’t even limp when she walked now, a sign that she was fully recovered from her injuries. Connor was already in his car when James walked to the far side of the lot, which was the only place he’d found to park when he’d arrived among the dinner rush.

  Pushing the unlock button on his key-fob remote, he eyed the sensible little hybrid he’d recently purchased without a great deal of enthusiasm. Until recently, he had driven a vintage, classic sports car, which he had loved more than any inanimate object he’d ever owned. Something about that cherry-red convertible he’d named Terri, for no particular reason, had appealed to him from the first time he’d seen it. Maybe because he’d known his father would heartily disapprove?

  Unfortunately, Terri was a temperamental and unreliable mistress, leaving him stranded at the most inconvenient times. Despite his first-name relationship with every decent mechanic in the area, James had finally conceded he needed more reliable transportation for his career. He’d put Terri in storage for someday when he had time to play with her again. In the meantime, he was driving a vehicle that his dad considered sensible and responsible, and privately wondering if he was destined to turn into his dad despite his small rebellions.

  He was just reaching for the door handle when a woman’s voice spoke from behind him. “James? Could we talk for a minute?”

  He dropped his hand, then steeled himself to turn to face Shannon.

  Chapter Four

  Shannon wasn’t known to be timid under any circumstances and rarely had difficulty speaking her mind. She freely admitted there were times when she was too quick to speak, blurting out whatever ran through her head, a tendency she had to fight on a daily basis. She’d always believed somewhat ruefully that she’d inherited the tendency from her mother’s side of the family.

  So, she didn’t know why she was having so much trouble trying to decide what to say to James. Maybe because her runaway mouth had made such a hash of things when she’d spoken with him in the toy store. Not that she could tell by looking at him that she had ruffled him in the least. His expression was distantly courteous, and his shuttered dark eyes held no particular emotion. The faint smile that could be charming and intriguing was merely polite now.

  “Yes?” he prompted when her hesitation lasted a bit too long.

  “I’m not sure I thanked you properly for recommending my services to your friend. At this stage in my business, word-of-mouth referrals are very important.”

  “You thanked me at the toy store. But you’re welcome. I know Alexis is looking forward to her party. That was her father sitting beside me at dinner, by the way. Sorry, I should have introduced you.”

  Though she wondered why he hadn’t, she waved off the apology. “I’m sure I’ll meet him at the party. The last time I spoke with her, Mrs. Hayes told me some of their friends and some of the children’s parents are planning to watch a football game inside during the party. Will you be there?”

  “I’m not sure yet. But don’t worry, if I go, I’ll stay well out of your way.”

  She sighed in response to his slightly stiff tone. “Okay, James? Let’s just get this out of the way, shall we? I said something stupid in the toy store and you took it all wrong. When I said you make me nervous, it wasn’t because I think you’re a stalker or a weirdo or anything like that.”

  She had the satisfaction of seeing a genuine emotion on his face then—apparently she had caught him off guard with her blunt candor.

  “Um—” Now it was James who seemed at a loss for words. Shannon had the impression that few people ever saw him flustered, as he seemed to be now.

  He recovered quickly, his lips quirking into a hint of the smile she liked so much. “Thank you. I’m relieved to know you don’t place me in either of those categories.”

  She really was a sucker for that formally courteous tone of his. Combined with his fleeting smiles—and those gorgeous eyes—it made it even more difficult for her to remember that she’d had good reason for being wary of the man.

  It wasn’t so much him she didn’t trust, she admitted ruefully. It was herself around him.

  “So what exactly is it about me that makes you nervous?” he asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.

  This noisy parking lot was hardly the place for such a personal discussion, even though she was aware she was the one who had impulsively initiated it when she’d seen James standing by his car, parked not far from her own. Though the sun had not yet set, the shadows lengthened around them. The exhaust-scented air was warm and rather sticky against the skin exposed by the short-sleeve top she wore with summer-weight khaki pants. Patrons arriving and leaving talked and slammed car doors and a toddler cried noisily near the restaurant entranceway. Hardly an ideal place for the apology she was trying so awkwardly to make.

  She had been so startled to see James dining here this evening. She and Devin had agreed to meet for half-price lasagna as Shannon was getting off work for the day and Devin was on her way to begin her shift. Shannon had nearly tripped over her own feet when she’d caught James’s eyes on her way to her table. She could tell by the way he’d responded to her greeting that he was still stinging over the way they’d last parted.

  She had realized then that rather than annoying him, her tactless words at the toy store had hurt his feelings. And that was a situation her conscience prodded her to rectify, even if she wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it.

  She drew a deep breath. “I just get the feeling you’re one of those march-in-and-take-charge sort of guys and that’s what makes me a little nervous. I mean, doctors are accustomed to giving orders and having them followed without question. Making decisions on behalf of other people. Telling people what’s
good for them. And I don’t handle that sort of thing very well.”

  A jacked-up pickup truck passed on the busy road beside them, heavy bass blasting from the radio so loudly Shannon could almost feel her bones vibrate in response, drowning out the other sounds of cars and people milling in the restaurant parking lot. Instinctively, she threw an annoyed glare in the direction of the ugly truck, then turned back to James.

  If he’d noticed the distraction at all, she couldn’t tell by looking at him. His eyes were steady on her face, his expression thoughtful as if he were dissecting her words to study every nuance.

  “You’re very direct, aren’t you?” he commented when he could be heard again over the fading boom box on wheels.

  Making a face, she shrugged. “It’s a family trait, I guess.”

  He nodded. Having spent a couple of hours with her outspoken and gregarious family, he probably understood her excuse very well.

  She couldn’t help thinking that James was pretty much her opposite when it came to outspokenness. Whereas she tended to blurt out whatever she was thinking, he kept his thoughts so well masked that there was no telling what was going on in that handsome head. Another potential point of conflict between them, she reminded herself. It would drive her crazy to be with someone who couldn’t share what he was thinking or feeling.

  “So, have you dated doctors before?” he asked, his tone uninflected. “Is that how you’ve derived your assessment of the physician’s personality?”

  She couldn’t help but be wryly amused by the question. He was such an academic. “Sort of. I dated a—”

  A blast of a car horn from the road drowned out her words. It was followed by a screech of tires that made her jump and look around, half expecting to see a wreck take place at the intersection. As it was, two cars barely avoided a collision, followed by curses shouted out an open window and a few hand gestures expressing displeasure with each others’ driving.

  “Holy—” She sighed, leaving the rest of her trademark phrase unspoken. “This really isn’t the place for a discussion. Let’s go to the coffee shop at the bookstore down the street where we can talk without shouting over the idiots on the road.”

  “Fine,” he said without hesitation and opened his car door. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Still muttering beneath her breath about crazy and inconsiderate drivers, Shannon climbed into the thirdhand, compact SUV she’d purchased for hauling around her party supplies and started the engine. She was halfway to the bookstore when it occurred to her abruptly what she had just done.

  She’d asked James to join her for coffee. And he had accepted so smoothly it didn’t even occur to her to have second thoughts. Amused and exasperated—with both of them—she laughed softly and promised herself that this would be as close to a date as she would get with James Stillman.

  James motioned for Shannon to proceed him into the large, chain bookstore. The familiar scents of coffee and pastries greeted her when she entered this place where she spent quite a bit of time. She loved browsing through the books and magazines, sitting in the invitingly soft chairs scattered throughout the store and perusing pages of interesting-looking books to decide if she wanted to buy them, sipping overpriced coffee drinks and people-watching for a relaxing hour or two. Sometimes she brought her laptop and answered e-mail, worked on party plans or just surfed her favorite Web sites.

  Maybe she’d look through the books after she and James had finished their friendly coffees, she thought. She hadn’t bought a book in at least a week—she could probably squeeze another book purchase into this month’s budget.

  “Hey, James, how’s it going?” the black-haired, heavily eye-lined, multiply-pierced young woman behind the coffee counter called out as they approached. “Got a new study partner?”

  James chuckled. “I’m not studying tonight, Cass. Just having coffee with a friend.”

  “You want the usual?”

  “Sure. What would you like, Shannon?”

  She studied him with a raised eyebrow. As many hours as she’d spent in this store, she was rarely greeted by name and never offered “the usual” in the coffee shop. “Spend a little time here, do you?”

  He smiled wryly. “I’ve spent hours in every coffee shop in central Arkansas. My study group always liked combining caffeine with cramming for tests.”

  Because it had been so warm and humid outside, leaving her feeling a little sticky, she opted for a cold drink. “Cinnamon dolce frappuccino,” she requested, opening her purse.

  James shook his head. “On me,” he murmured, handing Cass his credit card. “I have a discount card here,” he added as if that would ward off her automatic protest.

  “So do I,” she argued, anyway. “And I was the one who suggested this.”

  Cass swiped the card quickly, winking at James as she did so. “Too late. Already rang it up.”

  Sighing, Shannon let her shoulder strap purse drop back to her side. “Thank you.”

  There weren’t a lot of customers in the coffee shop—or the bookstore, for that matter—on this Thursday evening. Two middle-aged women gossiped at one table, three teenage girls talked and texted at another, a college-age girl sat behind a stack of books in one corner, scribbling in a wire-bound notebook, and a law student clattered the keyboard of his computer on a little table filled almost to overflowing with law textbooks. Coffee shops and studying seemed to be a popular combination, Shannon mused as she and James claimed a little table in a deserted corner to wait for their drinks.

  “So, you dated a…?” James prompted.

  She blinked before realizing that he was taking up their conversation exactly where it had been interrupted before. She laughed.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “You just amuse me.”

  “I thought you said I make you nervous.”

  “I’ve decided nervous is the wrong word,” she admitted. “I’m not nervous around you, James.”

  “Good.”

  “The correct word would be wary. Definitely wary,” she repeated, nodding in satisfaction with the choice.

  His expression shifted from pleased to somber again. Maybe she was beginning to read him a little better, after all. It was quite obvious to her that he didn’t like “wary” any better than he’d liked “nervous.”

  Cass set their drinks in front of them. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she urged them before heading back to her station.

  Shannon was usually called to the counter to pick up her own drink. No table deliveries for her.

  James must be one generous tipper, she decided, taking a sip of the drink that even tasted slightly better than usual this evening. She nodded toward the steaming espresso James had ordered. “Isn’t it a little late for that?”

  He lifted one shoulder in a hint of a shrug. “I’ve developed a caffeine immunity in the past couple of years. Whenever I get a chance to sleep, I’m gone the minute I hit the pillow, even if I’ve had a whole pot of coffee beforehand.”

  “I’ve heard med school is a nightmare.”

  “The first two years are the most difficult. Third year involves long hours and a lot of procedures and information to learn. This year is a cakewalk in comparison, though it has its own challenges.”

  “You’re at the top of the class, aren’t you?”

  He shifted a little uncomfortably in his chair in response to her deliberately blunt question. “I’ve done well enough.”

  “The top.”

  He shrugged. “I had the advantage of earning a Ph.D in microbiology before I entered med school, so the basic science was already familiar material to me.”

  She blinked. “You earned a doctorate before you started medical school?”

  “Yes.”

  “How old were you when you graduated high school?”

  He toyed with his coffee cup. “Sixteen. Both being educators, my parents thought it best for me to skip ahead of some of the early grades.”

  “So you�
��ll be a double-doctor.” She tried not to let him see that this new bit of information made him even more intimidating.

  “I’ll have an M.D.-Ph.D,” he corrected, then changed the subject quickly away from his accomplishments. “You said you dated a doctor?”

  He was determined to finish the conversation they had started in the parking lot. She supposed they might as well. Once he understood her qualms, he would realize it wasn’t anything personal against him, she figured, and her conscience would be clear about hurting his feelings.

  “I dated a dentist. He made a huge point of calling himself ‘Doctor.’ Introduced himself to everyone as Dr. Smith. Corrected people when they called him Mr. Smith,” she added wryly. “He even signed a birthday card to me ‘Dr. Philip Smith.’”

  James looked uncomfortable again. “I know a few people like that,” he murmured. “Somewhat pompous?”

  “The very definition of pompous,” she emphasized.

  “So why did you get involved with him?”

  “Because he was also charming and amusing and my family pressured me into ignoring my instincts and giving him a chance. And to be honest, I was on the rebound from another long-term relationship that had ended badly. Philip’s attention was flattering—just what my bruised ego thought I needed at the time, I guess—and for a while, I let myself ignore the warning signs. He was always trying to make decisions for me, subtly criticizing my choices, assuring me he had my best interests at heart when he told me what I should or shouldn’t do with my life.”

  She took another sip of her iced drink. “It finally occurred to me after dating him for several months that he was deliberately grooming me to be the companion he considered fitting for his status. I realized then that I was going to have to break up with him or break his pompous nose. I decided on the former—though the latter would have been much more satisfying,” she added reflectively. “We broke up a little over a year ago, and since then I’ve focused on establishing my own identity.”