style="font-size:15px;"> He gently let go of her hand, leaving an invisible nest of warmth on her palm.
“Thanks for changing your mind,” she added, watching him walk away, his steps purposeful, yet relaxed.
Dr. Marbet closed his laptop, and three flat-screen monitors on the wall directly behind him turned off in tandem. Liza assumed they were used for viewing X-rays and other diagnostic tests.
“I trust you’ll make my decision the right one, Ms. Sinclair,” he replied as he checked his watch again, instantly re-igniting her nerves.
His athletic frame skirted around the desk and as he leaned against it, he seemed both nonchalant and alert.
“I have my first patient at eight thirty, so let’s get started.”
He unbuttoned his lab coat, revealing a crisp, blue formal shirt topped off with a bright yellow silk tie that would be outlandish on other men, but on him looked elegant and dignified.
“As I stated on the phone, opening up a private cosmetic surgery practice has long been a dream of mine, so this project is very important to me. Tell me what you remember about my vision for the clinic.”
Liza boldly took a few steps toward him. “I recall that you want your patients to feel welcome and at home, so the architectural design will be a cornerstone of the clinic’s success.”
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “Right. They already know that when they come to my clinic, they are receiving the best medical care that money can buy, so I’ve got that covered. But I want the building to be designed in such a way that their experience can be uniquely personal.”
She nodded in agreement. “Your facility would be the first of its kind in Bay Point. Why do you see a need for it now?”
Dr. Marbet crossed his arms again and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “In this immediate area, the only place for women and men to have a cosmetic surgery or even a non-surgical procedure, something simple like fillers to correct wrinkling, is here at BPC. Even though this is a fine facility, it’s still a hospital.”
Liza smiled. “Intimidating and impersonal. A hospital isn’t the most private place in town.” She sighed and chose her next words carefully. “I can appreciate your concern for the locals, but I know that many of your patients are famous.”
“Now, where did you hear that?”
She shrugged, not willing to admit that perusing internet gossip sites on a regular basis was one of her favorite guilty pleasures.
“Word around town.”
He started to roll his eyes but stopped and grinned. “There are a lot of things you will hear in Bay Point. Some true, some not. But yes, some of my patients are extremely well-known in the media.”
“And you want more of them,” she prodded.
Dr. Marbet nodded as if the answer were obvious. “Most plastic and cosmetic surgery, that is not the result of certain injuries, is not covered by traditional insurance. Wealthier clients have the funds to pay out-of-pocket for their care. In private practice, I’ll have costs, too.
“The lack of privacy here at the hospital is a big problem and keeps many potential clients away,” he added.
Liza took a few more steps closer, careful to maintain a respectable distance. She had to know if there was another reason why he was building the clinic, something deeper. Something other than just making more money.
“Are you happy?”
He narrowed his eyes, and she worried that her question may have been too personal for a job interview. Still, she had to know if there was another reason why he was building the clinic.
“You mean here at the hospital?”
She nodded. Even though she was curious to know more about Dr. Marbet than just his opinion on his workplace, it was a good place to start building a connection.
“I’ve been at Bay Point Community for over six years. The medical benefits, regular hours, a normal schedule, most of the time are definite pluses,” he said with a wry smirk. “But there are enough minuses that I feel it’s time to strike out on my own,” he added, sighing deeply, as if his shoulders were laden with a heavy burden.
Liza clasped her hands together and smiled, happy that they shared something in common.
“I understand. Being my own boss was one reason why I started my own design firm. No one to answer to on a daily basis but my own perfectionist nature.”
No one to answer to, no one to blame when she failed and no one to celebrate the successes with either, she noted mildly to herself.
She’d been single and on her own for so long that she’d practically convinced herself she didn’t need anyone. All she needed right now was to secure this design gig, and since she didn’t know how much time she had left in the interview, it was time to start talking business.
“Dr. Marbet. I can assure you that with me at your side, you’ll be able to bring your vision to life.”
He gave her a questioning look. “You and your perfectionist nature?”
The teasing lilt in his voice emboldened her, and for the first time, she felt she had his complete attention.
“So what makes you think you’re qualified to design my clinic other than the fact that, per your website, you’ve been featured in Architectural Digest and House Beautiful?”
“Why don’t I show you instead?”
Dr. Marbet arched a brow and they walked to the conference table. When they reached it, he stood close enough for her to appreciate that he didn’t reek of cologne, which she hated, or of antiseptic, which she’d expected from a physician.
Instead, he had a nice, clean, soapy smell.
Simple, pleasant and very sexy.
So sexy that it made her want to inhale deeply, but she was the model of restraint, of self-denial. The situation was awkward enough without her acting like she’d never been close to a clean-smelling, handsome man who looked good enough to savor, for one night. Or maybe even a lifetime.
Liza opened up her portfolio case and laid her best work on the table.
“Here are three designs I created, as part of a team of architects, when I was working for a large firm in Denver. One is a private school, one is an office building and the other is a restaurant.”
Dr. Marbet’s arm brushed against hers, a gesture she was sure was completely innocent, yet her skin pulsed an invisible beat, as he pointed at the first one.
“Ah. Very interesting. I love the open-air feel of the school, and those courtyards scattered about are different. Random, and yet organized at the same time.”
His eyes danced, and she could tell by the look on his face that he was impressed.
“Yes, I designed those in order to encourage more small groups, rather than the large crowds one
