Helping Dr. Hottie Page 4

“Well, you said you’re not getting any surgeries anyway. Go out and see the countryside.”

  “I’m pretty sure it hasn’t changed much in ten years.”

  “You’re good in rural areas.”

  “We’re talking about visiting small town clinics, not refugee camps.”

  Greg cleared his throat. “Max? Did you have something to say?”

  Crap.

  I shook my head subtly as Max took a deep breath and looked around the room importantly. “How about Owen?”

  The other doctors looked immediately relieved that Max hadn’t named them. “Good idea,” one said and there were murmurs of agreement.

  “With all due respect, Max, the members of the outreach team are supposed to talk up the hospital. Owen’s only been back a week. He’s the last person who should go.”

  “Nonsense.” Damn. Greg had riled Max up—now my uncle would push harder for something I didn’t even want in the first place. “It’s Hawthorne Memorial Hospital. Who better than to promote it than an actual Hawthorne?”

  Shit. This was not going to go over well with Greg. Though we’d been best friends for years, he’d always been weird about the fact that I came from a long line of doctors—doctors who’d founded this hospital. And when my family had sent me to an Ivy League medical school, and he’d ended up in a public university, the rift between us had widened. Though Max had clearly gotten under his skin, I didn’t think Greg would pass up the chance to get rid of me for a week.

  Surprisingly, Greg was shaking his head. What kind of game was he playing at? Why didn’t he want me to go on this dog and pony show when he clearly didn’t want me here?

  The ensuing discussion didn’t take long. Everyone else in the room, including an increasingly belligerent Uncle Max, was in favor of me going. And after a few minutes, I was okay with it, too. Sure, it would be a wasted week, but this past week hadn’t exactly been productive. Besides, the idea of being out in the countryside had a certain appeal. I wasn’t used to being cooped up in an office.

  Greg tried in vain to get another doctor to volunteer, but no one did. Finally, he admitted defeat. “All right then. Owen will be going on the outreach tour as well as a nurse and an organizer. This year, the nurse will be Kristin.”

  I smiled at a pretty brunette I’d met on my second day, and she gave a wave and a smile back. From my brief interactions with her, she’d seemed competent enough though a bit of a chatterbox.

  I looked back at Greg, expecting him to end the meeting and dismiss us, but instead, he had a sour expression on his face. Clearly, he had something else to say and he didn’t want to say it.

  But after a long pause, he did. “Joining Owen and Kristin in the organizer role will my daughter Rebecca.”

  Oh. That changed things considerably.

  A smile played across my lips as I glanced over to the young woman who met my eyes quickly before looking away.

  So that’s why Greg didn’t want me to go. He didn’t want me spending the week with his daughter.

  The meeting adjourned and I shook Max’s hand and walked him out of the room. I grinned at Becca as I passed. Predictably, she blushed.

  Suddenly, I was a lot more excited about this outreach tour than I had been five minutes ago.

  Becca

  A week with Dr. Hawthorne! A whole week. It seemed too good to be true, but it was Monday morning, and I was waiting outside the main entrance of the hospital, the case of promotional materials next to my suitcase. Neither Dr. Hawthorne nor Kristin were here yet. I was early, but I’d gotten a ride in with my father so I wouldn’t have to leave my car here all week.

  Plus, I probably would’ve been here early anyway. A whole week with Dr. Hawthorne! That thought kept rattling around my brain like a mantra. No… more like a good dream. A dream that was about to come true.

  As exciting as that was, it had made deciding what to bring a hell of a lot harder. Packing for a week with Kristin and kind, old Dr. McNulty was one thing. Packing for a week with Dr. Hottie? That was like the Olympics of packing.

  I’d agonized over what clothes to bring, what shoes, what jewelry. And I’d made more than one run to the store for things like makeup and perfume. Both of those were non-essentials I wouldn’t have spent much time considering if Dr. Hawthorne hadn’t been going.

  As the weekend progressed, my nerves grew. Excitement filled me every step of the day, but there were constant butterflies in my stomach, too. Even under normal circumstances, I managed to routinely embarrass myself every time I spoke to Dr. Hawthorne. So how would I survive the whole week? But perhaps I was a glutton for punishment because I couldn’t wait to find out.

  For my dad’s sake, I tried to keep from bouncing around the house like a little girl on Christmas Eve. Though it hadn’t been much of a problem because he’d spent so much time at the hospital. Still, he’d checked in with me a few times to give last minute admonitions about the trip.

  One time, he’d come into my room to tell me something. The sight of the flowers on my dresser—the ones Dr. Hawthorne had given me—had made him scowl. Clearly, there was some bad blood between the two men, but I couldn’t imagine what it could be. Dr. Hawthorne seemed so wonderful. Pretty much everyone on the staff except my dad seemed to think so, too.

  A car horn caught my attention. One of the official white cars belonging to the hospital was in front of me, with Dr. Hawthorne himself climbing out.

  “Good morning, Becca. Ready for an adventure?”

  With him? God yes. But all I did was to nod and manage—I think—not to blush.

  “Good. Where’s Kristin?”

  “I haven’t seen her yet.”

  “Well, let’s get your stuff loaded and see if she turns up.”

  He easily picked up the two rather large cases, and I followed him to the back of the car. To my surprise, the only luggage in the trunk was a well-worn duffel bag. He must be used to traveling light.

  Dr. Hawthorne closed the trunk and we both turned as someone called my name.

  Kristin was running across the parking lot, her suitcase rolling behind her. As she neared, Dr. Hawthorne reached to take it, but she ignored him and rushed to me. “Becca, guess what?”

  I couldn’t help returning her smile though I had no idea what she was talking about. She’d always been polite and professional to me though we’d never spent much time together. I wondered what had caused the change in attitude now?

  “Look!” Kristin pushed her left hand at me, and after a moment, I noticed the sparkly shape on her ring finger.

  “You’re engaged? Matt proposed?”

  “It’s Mark, and yes! I’m engaged!” She dropped her suitcase and hugged me, nearly knocking me off my feet. Patting her absently, I hugged her back. Now that I thought about it, I remembered the nurses talking about some drama last year between Kristin and her boyfriend. Evidently, it had all worked out. I didn’t know her well, but I was genuinely happy for her good news.

  At long last, Kristin released me and showed her ring to Dr. Hawthorne, who gave her a quick hug.

  Without prompting, Kristin launched into the story of Mark’s proposal. “It was so romantic. And so out of the blue, you know? I mean, I wondered, and I hoped it would be soon, but I just didn’t know. There’s just no way to tell what men are thinking sometimes.”

  Dr. Hawthorne nodded solemnly as if he agreed, and I suppressed a giggle.

  “And there were tons of flowers, and my family was there at the back of the restaurant and I didn’t even know. And I wasn’t even wearing my best dress! He could’ve at least told me to wear my best dress, right?” She clutched my arm as if to emphasize the full depth of the non-best dress problem, and I agreed as adamantly as she seemed to want me to.

  While Kristin chattered on, Dr. Hawthorne put her bag in the back and opened both the passenger door and the one behind it. I edged toward the car, one side-step at a time while Kristin told me every minute detail of Mark’s proposal.

  Fina
lly, Dr. Hawthorne interrupted. “Can we continue this discussion in the car, ladies? Or we’re going to be late for our first engagement, right Becca?”

  “Yes, Doctor,” I said instantly.

  “Right,” Kristin said, laughing a little. “Sorry, Dr. Hawthorne, I’m just a little excited.”

  “Understandably so,” he said with a kind smile. “And please… since we’re going to be together for an entire week for the Outreach-Tour-Slash-Kristin-And-Mark-Engagement-Celebration, please call me Owen. That goes for both of you,” he said looking over at me as he held the door to the front seat open.

  “Thanks, Owen,” Kristin said, hopping in the front seat before I could make a move toward it.

  Disappointed, I watched as she fastened her seatbelt. Then Owen closed that door and held the door to the backseat.

  As I sank down inside the car, he leaned forward and winked at me. “Next time, better call shotgun.”

  Then he smiled and closed the door.

  An hour later, neither Owen nor I were smiling.

  Kristin was still talking about her engagement, needing little more than the occasional “uh-huh” from us to keep her going. It gradually came out that the proposal had only happened last night. Therefore, she hadn’t had a chance to tell the news to a lot of her friends and coworkers. Unfortunately, she seemed to think that we were worthy stand-ins for both.

  The only time she stopped talking was when one of her friends texted back a response to her news. Then Owen would try to engage me in conversation, but it was hard to hear him from the back seat.

  So mostly, I just sat there and watched him drive. He seemed completely comfortable behind the wheel, one wrist lazily slung over the top of the steering wheel. Every once in a while, I’d lean forward to warn him of an upcoming turn, but other than that, he mostly drove in silence.

  Which gave me plenty of time to stare at him without getting caught. His profile was just as impressive as the straight-on view. In particular, my gaze kept returning to his strong jawline. I ached to trail my finger along the sexy stubble there. Though it would be nice to run my tongue along it, too.

  That thought made me blush, but luckily Owen was too occupied with driving to notice.

  As we passed fields and farms, I wondered what had brought Owen back to Taylorsville. It was a fairly unremarkable town. None of the excitement he was used to.

  His blue eyes flashed momentarily in the rear view mirror, and I caught his gaze for a moment, returning his smile. God, he was gorgeous. And his looks weren’t the only thing to admire about him.

  He was a genuine hero. A man who helped countless others. He wasn’t like other doctors, like my dad and the staff at the hospital. He’d given up a good salary and a comfortable life to go abroad to help the people who needed it the most.

  I’d looked into that, too, while I was reading up on him. Sadly, his decision had sprung from a tragedy. He’d lost a patient, a teenaged girl named Tracy who’d been loved by the entire hospital staff. He’d performed a risky but necessary surgery on her, and she hadn’t made it. By all reports, Owen had been devastated. A month later, he resigned his position at Hawthorne Memorial.

  At that time, I’d been a little girl, and none of that had been on my radar. And that was just about the time it had finally occurred to me that my mom was truly sick and didn’t seem to be getting better. Still, my heart ached for Owen and that patient he’d lost.

  An hour later, we were at Colton High School, speaking to fifty seniors. Kristin emerged from her bubble of engagement bliss to talk competently about nursing as a career. Owen went off script a bit, talking less about the field of medicine and more about his time abroad. But the kids were enthralled. And from a few of the young women—hell, most of the young women—there was the look of adoration that I suspected I often wore.

  Afterwards, I handed out pamphlets and answered questions when necessary. When we got back to the car, Owen turned to me. “What’s next, boss?”

  Predictably, I blushed.

  “The local clinic.”

  Owen opened the passenger door but stopped Kristin when she tried to get in. “Sorry, but I don’t know where I’m going. I need Becca to navigate.”

  “Sure,” Kristin said, not looking up from her texting.

  I couldn’t help grinning as I settled into the passenger seat.

  Though we had GPS, I had printed out backup copies of the routes and gave Owen instructions as he drove. In the backseat, Kristin was on the phone, informing one of her out-of-state friends of every single detail of the proposal the night before.

  Owen looked over at me as we stopped at a light. “So, I’m not really up to speed on how things work with the newly engaged…”

  Surprised, I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “How soon can we start calling her Bridezilla?”

  I laughed and then put my hand over my mouth. Guiltily, I looked back at Kristin who was happily talking on the phone. She was just excited, that’s all. “I don’t think she qualifies as that yet… though I could see her texting her good news and accidentally walking into a fountain at the mall like that one viral video.”

  Owen chuckled. “Okay, how about Brideblivious?”

  “Umm… maybe Bridenesia? Like she’s forgotten anything else exists?”

  “That works,” he said, and he winked at me as he pulled into the clinic parking lot.

  The staff at the clinic was kind and friendly. They seemed to know a lot about Owen and his work. Afterwards, one of the local doctors took him to dinner to hear about the techniques he’d pioneered when he was overseas.

  I would’ve loved to come and learn about it, but I wasn’t invited, so Kristin and I checked into the hotel where we’d be sharing a room. I checked Owen in, too, and left the key for him at the front desk.

  Then I had dinner with the bride-to-be, and I got to hear a million details about Kristin’s ideas for her wedding, honeymoon, future house, future children… all the way up to retirement, or so it seemed.

  It was a long evening.

  The next morning, I found Owen at the complimentary breakfast bar. I’d been up for hours, spending extra time washing and styling my hair before Kristin even got up. She was taking a shower now.

  Owen waved me over after I got myself some cereal. I didn’t drink coffee, and ordinarily would’ve had orange juice, but it seemed like something a kid would drink, so I got tea instead. Owen had coffee and toast.

  “Morning, Becca. Did you sleep well?”

  “Not really,” I said honestly, sitting across from him.

  Sympathy warmed his face. “That’s a shame. One good thing about being in the field for so many years is that I learned how to sleep anywhere. It’s a useful skill.”

  “Usually, I can, too.” I sipped some tea and winced. It was pretty hot—as was Owen. Today, he had on a dark blue shirt and dress pants. He even had a tie on. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him looking so formal, but he looked amazing, as always. God, the way his arms filled out the sleeves of his shirt…

  “Becca?”

  I gulped. Something told me this wasn’t the first time he’d called my name. “Do you usually have a problem sleeping? I’m sure you could talk to someone at the hospital—“

  “It’s not that,” I said, interrupting. “It was my roommate.”

  “Ah.” He took a sip of coffee. “Let me guess—she talks about wedding plans in her sleep?”

  “Close,” I said. “She didn’t stop texting all night. Every time she got a text, her phone made the entire room glow blue. I swear, I doubt at this point there’s anyone left on the planet who doesn’t know about her engagement.”

  Owen smiled as he watched me intently, but I instantly felt guilty. “I mean, I’m glad she’s happy…”

  “Of course. She’s the happiest Brideblivious woman I’ve ever seen.”

  I grinned. “I’m sticking with Bridenesia because she seems to have forgotten that there was someone in the othe
r bed. And I’m certain she forgot that phones can be turned off.”

  “Okay, I’ll adhere to your diagnosis, Dr. Miller.”

  His teasing tone made me blush. But it worried me that he seemed to have seen right through my protests that I didn’t want to be a doctor. That last thought killed my mood pretty quickly. “I’m fairly sure there’s only going to be one Dr. Miller in the family.”

  “But why? I saw the way you were listening when I was talking about some of my cases overseas. Tell me you didn’t like hearing about that.”

  I took another sip of tea. It was cooler now. “It was just because you’re a good speaker.”

  “And you’re a bad liar. What classes are you taking in the fall?”

  Not meeting his eyes, I listed the businesses classes required for my major. “And… maybe an elective.”

  He pounced on that immediately. “What elective?”

  “Umm… there’s this class being offered on genetics,” I said.

  “In other words, a pre-med class.” There was a gleam of victory in his vivid blue eyes.

  “Yeah. But I’m not pre-med, and I’m never going to be.”

  I feigned interest in my cereal even though it was getting rather soggy. The silence wore on as I ate self-consciously, and finally, I looked up at Owen again.

  “Do you always do what your father tells you?”

  Thinking about it, I sighed. “Yeah. Most of the time.”

  Owen was silent for a minute as he ate a bite of toast. “Might want to reconsider that at some point, Becca. It’s your life.”

  I nodded, but some days—most days, in fact—that didn’t really feel true.

  The day passed quickly. After Kristin was ready, we traveled to three different small towns. Kristin did her part competently, but the moment we were done, she was back on her phone again, oblivious—or perhaps Brideblivious—to everything around her.

  After the final presentation, Owen dropped us off at the hotel, saying he needed the car for a while. That was disappointing until he said he’d meet us for dinner at the hotel restaurant at six.

  While Kristin talked to Mark on the phone, I put on a dress and redid my hair and makeup. I even put on heels, something I’d brought just in case I got to have dinner with Owen.