The Texan's Suite Romance. Judy Christenberry
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“Oh, Mona, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“I was hoping you’d ask. Tabitha, I have a new client who is moving me into the big time. His publisher recommended me because of the feedback from your tour we did last summer.”
“Congratulations, Mona, but that doesn’t tell me what I can do.”
“Think about it. I can’t take this guy on tour. And I’m a one-woman office. I don’t have anyone to replace me.”
“Is there any way you can delay the tour?”
“No! We’re supposed to leave tomorrow and be on the road for six weeks. It’s all planned. All you’d have to do is confirm the arrangements and have him follow the plan. You could do it, Tabitha!”
“Whoa! Wait a minute, Mona. I’m not a publicist.”
“Maybe not, but you’re beautiful and smart and good with people. Besides, I’ve done all the preparations. This is the easy part. And you’ll get to travel free on my company credit card.”
“But, Mona—”
“This is a big opportunity for me, Tabitha. It’s my chance to prove myself to New York publishers. Please say you’ll do it.”
“I—I guess I could, but what if I mess up?”
“You won’t. Pack your business suits and whatever else you need and come see me here at the hospital. I’ll give you the keys to my office so you can get the necessary papers. Don’t worry, it’ll be fun!”
Fun? The jury was still out on that, but it would be an experience. Besides, she had nothing holding her in Fort Worth…. “Okay. By the way, who is this person?”
“I talked to you about him. Dr. Alex Myerson. He’s the psychologist you wrote up a training plan for at the club.”
“Did Dr. Myerson follow my plan?”
“Absolutely, and he looks wonderful. He’ll easily impress all the interviewers.”
An all-expense-paid trip and a handsome guy? Tabitha smiled to herself. The summer was looking better already.
The next morning, dressed in her best suit, a red one that accentuated her blond hair, Tabitha arrived at the airport. In one hand she carried Mona’s briefcase, crammed with every detail of the tour. In the other, she held a publicity photo of her client, so she could recognize him.
She found him sitting in the waiting area by their gate. Mona was right. Alex Myerson was handsome, with light-brown hair, hazel eyes and a perfect body, thanks to her workout plan.
“Good morning, Dr. Myerson,” she said, smiling.
He looked up, letting his gaze cover her from head to toe. Then he muttered, “Not interested.”
Startled by his response, Tabitha stammered, “I—I beg your pardon?”
“I don’t know where you got my name, but I don’t want to make any new friends today. I’m leaving town.”
“Of course you are. With me.” Why was he acting so strangely?
He stood and looked down at her. “Lady, I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know you.”
“Didn’t Mona tell you?” Tabitha couldn’t believe Mona would forget that important part.
“Tell me what?”
“About the accident…and the tour.”
“The last I heard from Mona was a few days ago when she gave me my ticket for the first flight.”
Tabitha sat down hurriedly, not sure her knees could hold her. She pulled out Mona’s cell phone and dialed her number at the hospital. “Mona, you forgot to tell Dr. Myerson!”
“Oh, Tabitha, I took pain pills last night and fell asleep before I could call!”
“He’s here with me now, Mona. Can you explain to him what happened?”
She handed the phone to Dr. Myerson, who didn’t look as though he wanted to talk to Mona.
“Hello?” he snapped as he took the phone.
Tabitha sat wondering if this tour was to be the shortest one on record, ending only minutes after it had begun.
“We will now begin boarding Flight one-nine-eight to San Francisco. All first-class passengers are invited to board now, please.”
Tabitha stood and reached out for the phone. “I’m sorry, but we have to board now.”
He handed her the phone, not looking any happier than he’d been before he learned of Mona’s accident. He folded the newspaper he’d been reading, stuck it under his arm, picked up his laptop and headed for the gate without saying a word.
Okay, so the good doctor had major attitude.
Tabitha picked up her briefcase and followed him onto the plane. He might think he could ignore her, but he had another think coming.
Alex knew he’d been rude. But the events of the morning were a complete disaster. He hadn’t wanted to go on this tour in the first place, despite his publisher’s insistence.
After he’d met Mona, he’d finally agreed. A pleasant woman approaching fifty, Mona didn’t flirt or try to get too personal. In fact, she’d assured him she was only there to make his trip run smoothly.
Since this was his first foray into a real social situation since his beloved Jenny had died a year ago, Alex had been worried. Mona had put him at ease. He’d even stopped dreading the tour.
Until this morning.
When he discovered the sexy blonde in the sleek designer suit was replacing the comfortable Mona, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t look at her. He was going to spend six weeks with this woman? He wouldn’t survive. How could he get out of the tour?
His options faded as the plane pushed away from the gate. Panic built in him.
The blue-eyed blonde leaned over. “Are you a bad flier, Dr. Myerson?” There was sympathy in her voice, which made him even angrier.
“No, I’m not!”
Rather than retaliate, which he deserved, she put her briefcase on her lap and opened it, drawing out a folder on San Francisco. She ignored him as she read.
Finally he muttered in a low voice, “I’m sorry, Miss Tyler, but I’m not sure this tour should continue. Mona—I was comfortable with her.”
“I’m not surprised. Mona is a comfortable friend, isn’t she? But if she loses this tour, she’s afraid she might lose her business. That’s why I’m here. I just finished teaching and am now on summer vacation. This tour was not in my plans, but I’ll do my best to make it successful, if you’ll give me a chance.”
That was the longest speech of their short acquaintance.
Alex drew a deep breath. “I’m used to being left alone, but I still shouldn’t have been such a bear this morning. You took me by surprise.”
“I’m sure it was a shock. I’ll try to limit our interaction.” Her voice was cool, unemotional. “Mona received some likely questions for your first interview this afternoon. Do you want to read them, or shall I read them to you and let you practice your response?”
“I’ll read them,” he said, returning to his grouchy demeanor.
She handed him the paper without comment.
It only took thirty seconds for him to erupt again. “I can’t answer these questions!” he exclaimed and practically threw the paper in her face.
Catching the paper, she read the questions.
He turned his head toward