The Doctor's Undoing. GINA WILKINS
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working this weekend, I probably won’t get another chance to meddle with the two of you.”
“Ms. McMillan—”
“Take my advice, young man. Give that one a chance. She’s a keeper.”
He smiled, both amused and unnerved by the woman’s persistence. He really did like kids and seniors, even when their artless observations startled him at times. “I’ll keep your suggestion in mind, ma’am.”
She nodded in satisfaction. “You do that.”
“I really have to get back to work. Is there anything you need before I go?”
“No. That silly girl will be in here in a few minutes. The nurse’s aide. Talks a mile a minute, and giggles between every other word. Good at her job, though,” she added grudgingly.
“Okay. Have a good night, Ms. McMillan. It’s been a pleasure to meet you. I hope you continue to do well after you return home tomorrow.”
She shrugged, an acknowledgment of what they both knew about her prognosis. “You’re a nice young man. You’re going to be a damned good doctor. Good husband material, too.”
Chuckling, he moved toward the door. He’d have to tell Haley about this conversation. She’d get a kick out of—
He stopped abruptly in the doorway. With a slight frown, he turned to the patient again. “Ms. McMillan, you haven’t said anything to Haley about this, have you? About her and me, I mean?”
He could tell the answer from her expression.
“I might have mentioned that you seem like a good catch to me. And that you might be interested in her, judging from the way you look at her.”
“Huh. Well, maybe you shouldn’t mention anything like that again. Okay?”
She shrugged. “I’m leaving tomorrow, anyway. Probably won’t see her again. Just thought I’d plant a seed in a couple of young minds before I go.”
Giving her a little wave of farewell, Ron left the room. He didn’t realize he was scowling as he stalked down the hallway until a young volunteer jumped out of his way, looking warily at him when he passed.
Smoothing his expression, he pushed Ms. McMillan’s words to the back of his mind. He had work to do now. But he would be having a talk with Haley before the night was over.
Chapter Three
Haley sat at her table Friday evening reading an online medical article when someone rapped sharply on her door. She wasn’t expecting company and almost never had drop-by visitors, so the sound startled her. Though she’d shed her comfortable black flats, she still wore the pearl-colored summer sweater and pale gray slacks she’d donned for work, so at least she was decently dressed for company. Leaving the article on the computer screen, she walked across the living room and looked curiously through the peephole in the door.
“Ron?” Surprised, she opened the door. “What’s up?”
A frown creased his sandy brows and darkened his blue eyes. “Mind if I come in?”
He’d never dropped by without calling before; as far as she could remember, he’d never been there without the rest of the study group. Speculation about the reason for this visit made her hesitate a moment before answering.
His frown deepened. “Is this a bad time?”
He glanced beyond her, as though checking to see if she had other visitors.
“No, it’s fine.” She moved out of his way. “Come in.”
He walked to the center of the living room. Studying him somewhat warily, she closed the door. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Ron in a bad mood, but it had been a while.
“Have a seat,” she said, waving toward the cushioned, cream-colored couch she’d bought for comfort as much for style. Her whole apartment was furnished with relaxation in mind; in addition to the couch, the living room featured a cushy green recliner, a brown leather club chair she’d found at an estate sale and trendily mismatched tables arranged for her guests’ convenience. She enjoyed entertaining, though she’d had little time for it since starting medical school, only hosting her study group on occasion. “Can I get you anything?”
He shook his head. “I was going to talk to you at the hospital, but you avoided me all afternoon.”
“I didn’t avoid you.” Of course, she hadn’t exactly gone looking for him, either, she admitted silently.
He pushed his hands into the pockets of his rumpled khaki slacks. “So it was just an accident that you were everywhere I wasn’t today?”
Feeling defensive now, she planted her hands on her hips. “I saw you on rounds this morning. I was very busy this afternoon. I’m sorry if that was inconvenient for you. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“I visited one of your patients this afternoon. Georgia McMillan.”
“Oh.” She swallowed hard. “What made you do that?”
“She summoned me into her room when I was passing in the hallway.”
She knew Georgia enjoyed watching people pass in the hall, occasionally calling out greetings, so it was no surprise that she’d taken advantage of spotting Ron. Unfortunately. “Um—what did she say to you?”
“She wanted to give me some advice about my personal life.”
Haley sighed. She didn’t really have to ask what advice the romantically minded older woman had offered. “Yes, well, she seems to enjoy doing that.”
“Damn it, Haley.”
Defensiveness returned, crowding out embarrassment. It wasn’t as if she had any control over what her patient said when she wasn’t around. “What?”
“We’ve been friends for two years. Good friends, despite the rough patches.”
She nodded. “Yes, we have.”
“And you’re going to let one old woman’s ramblings drive a wedge between us now? After all the other obstacles our friendship has survived?”
He sounded genuinely angry, which—as always—triggered her own rare temper. It seemed to be a unique talent of his. “I’m doing no such thing.”
He was pacing now, though her small living space gave him room to take only three or four steps in each direction. “I knew something was bugging you yesterday. Couldn’t figure out why you weren’t meeting my eyes, why you jumped every time we made accidental contact. Why you started stuttering when I suggested we go to my place. To study, damn it.”
Two “damn its” in as many minutes. He really was irked.
“I told you I had to do laundry.”
“Yeah. And I’d never seen anyone look so eager to spend an evening with detergent and fabric softeners.”
“Look, Ron—”
He stopped in front of her, his gaze holding hers. “What I want to know is, why did you let what she said get to you that way? How come you didn’t come to me and laugh about it, the way we always do when something funny happens at work?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted with a sigh. “I just—okay, you’re right. I let her get to me. It embarrassed me, and I wasn’t sure how to—what to—well, you know.”
“What did she say that was so embarrassing?” He looked genuinely perplexed. “All she said to me was that you’re a sweetheart and I should ask you out. She giggled a little, and I grinned back at her. I thought you and I would get a laugh out of it, but then I realized that she must have said something similar to you yesterday. And that the unsettling patient comment you mentioned last night must have been hers. So