sprang open again, receding back to their corners and allowing him to walk in.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” he asked, looking straight at her, his head slightly cocked as if he couldn’t decide if he’d overheard something he shouldn’t have.
“Not a word,” Kayley answered brightly.
It was a lie, but she wasn’t about to admit to a perfect stranger—and he really was perfect—that she was giving herself a pep talk. It would have made him think that he was sharing the elevator with a mildly deranged woman.
That was how rumors got started, she thought, smiling at the man.
He didn’t return the smile.
The Orthopedic Surgeons Medical Building was a square white building that had only two floors. The bottom floor housed an outpatient operating facility as well as an area where MRIs and other diagnostic scans were taken. The front of the second floor was a communal reception area where patients could sign in and then wait to be taken through the double doors to the myriad of rooms that honeycombed the rear of the floor. That was where a variety of orthopedic doctors, each with his or her own specialty, would see them.
When the elevator doors opened on the second floor, the solemn-looking man riding up with her put his hand out again, this time to assure that the car’s doors would remain open. Then he stared at her, waiting.
“Oh.” Kayley had been lost in thought, but now she came alive, realizing that the strikingly handsome man was holding the doors open for her. “Thank you,” she told him quickly, hurrying out of the elevator.
“Don’t mention it,” the man murmured in a deep voice that seemed to surround her even though there was all this wide-open space around her.
As she tried to orient herself, the first thing Kayley saw was a long dark teak reception desk. There were currently three women seated there, each incredibly perky looking and each busily engaged, typing on computer keyboards.
Kayley waited until one of them was free and then walked up her. It was a petite brunette with lively green eyes.
Giving her a cursory glance, the brunette asked, “Name?”
It had been several years since she’d had to go through the interview process. Kayley felt the tips of her fingers grow icy as she answered, “Kayley Quartermain.”
The receptionist skimmed a list she pulled up on her screen. Frowning, she looked up again and asked, “And you’re here to see...?”
She’d memorized everything on the piece of paper Aunt Maizie had handed her, but she still looked down at it before answering.
“Dr. Dolan.” It felt as if the man’s name was sticking to the roof of her mouth.
The receptionist pulled up a new list, this one apparently highlighting that particular doctor’s schedule for the day. If anything, the frown on her lips deepened.
“Are you sure you have an appointment?” the woman asked. “I don’t see you on Dr. Dolan’s list.”
“I’m sure,” Kayley told her. “I called your office to verify the appointment yesterday afternoon.”
The receptionist shrugged and reached toward a shelf where two sets of forms were stacked. “New patient or follow-up?” she asked.
“Oh.” It dawned on Kayley that the receptionist was making a mistake. “Neither.”
Confusion creased the young woman’s high forehead. “Well, then, I’m afraid that you can’t—”
“No, you don’t understand,” Kayley said, cutting her short. “I’m applying for the position of Dr. Dolan’s physician’s assistant,” she explained. “I was told he was looking for one.” Then, to back up her claim, she added, “I emailed him my résumé.”
The receptionist instantly became friendlier. “Boy, is Rachel going to be happy to see you,” she said with enthusiasm.
“Rachel?” Kayley asked uncertainly, not sure what the receptionist was telling her.
“That’s Dr. Barrett’s physician’s assistant,” the receptionist explained. “She’s helping Dr. Dolan out until he finds his own PA. But she’s also working for Dr. Barrett and between the two, she can hardly draw two breaths consecutively.” The receptionist lowered her voice. “The poor thing’s worn out,” she confided.
Kayley nodded sympathetically. “Hopefully, she’ll be able to draw a lot of consecutive breathes shortly.”
“Yes.” The receptionist offered her a quick one-size-fits-all smile and then told her, “Please take a seat in the waiting room. Someone will be with you very shortly.”
The “someone” turned out to be the physician’s assistant who was currently juggling patients for both Dr. Dolan and Dr. Barrett.
Young and undoubtedly vibrant, Rachel Mathews fairly burst through the double doors that led to the back offices.
After a brief word with the receptionist, the beleaguered physician’s assistant made eye contact with her and immediately broke out in a huge relieved smile. Rather than standing and waiting by the door to the back rooms, Rachel swiftly came up to her and put her hand out as she asked hopefully, “You’re the one here about the opening for a physician’s assistant?”
“Yes, that’s—”
Rachel wouldn’t even let her finish her sentence. Judging by the young woman’s expression, Kayley had the feeling that Rachel was fighting the urge to throw her arms around her.
As it was, Rachel cried, “Thank God! I don’t think I could have taken one more week of doing double duty.” She shook her hand vigorously. Again, the woman seemed as if she was on the verge of embracing her.
Had she already landed the position? Kayley asked herself. Granted, she was very proud of her medical skills and what she had learned during the last round of courses she had taken to improve upon her degree, but there was no way that this Rachel person could know that. For all she knew, Kayley could have fabricated everything on her résumé.
“Come with me,” Rachel told her. “I’ll take you to the back and you can tell me about yourself.”
“It’s all there, in my résumé,” Kayley told the back of Rachel’s head as the PA led the way through a maze that eventually brought them to a room in the extreme rear.
“It’s always good to get the feel of a person,” Rachel said. “Looking into a person’s eyes tells me more than the words on any résumé.”
Taking her into what was clearly an exam room, complete with a monitor that highlighted X-ray films, Rachel gestured for her to take a seat.
“You can sit on either the chair or the exam table, whatever makes you feel the most comfortable.” It was obvious by her mechanical tone that she recited those words to anyone she brought into either of the two doctors’
