grin of his. At someone walking up beside them.
Someone else female.
Because he was Dr. Tyler Donaldson and that’s what he did best.
With every single female in the NICU except for dumpy, boring, mute, too-curvy Eleanor Aston.
* * *
Where was the black dress she’d brought with her that morning?
Panic raced through Eleanor as she stared at the contents of her staff locker.
It had been ransacked.
In the place of her gym bag, the black dress that she’d neatly hung that morning and the pair of black flats she’d planned to quickly change into was a note in familiar handwriting.
A note that made smoke billow from her ears.
You’re gonna look so hot, sis. You can thank me later. B.
Thank her? Ha. She was going to strangle her sister. How had Brooke gotten into the doctors’ lounge? Gotten into her locked locker? Not that her sister had been there herself. No way would Brooke risk being seen or photographed with her face red, swollen and peeling.
Yet her sister had wiped her out.
Even her purse was gone.
There were three items in the locker other than the note. The red dress and stilettos that her sister had so thoughtfully sent over and a square white box that covered almost the entire bottom of the locker.
Dare she even open the lid to see what lay inside?
She glanced at her watch, knew she was running out of time and snatched the lid off to stare at the items inside.
Underwear. Eleanor wrinkled her nose. Leave it to her sister to know that if you were going to wear an itty-bitty dress you had to have itty-bitty underwear to go with it.
Plus, a red clutch purse that matched her dress and shoes and a too-big, too-flamboyant hair clip meant more for adornment than to actually be useful.
And makeup. Lots of makeup.
Acid gurgling in her stomach, Eleanor shook her head. This was her place of employment, the hospital where she worked.
Okay, she’d jump in the shower and pray that when she was clean, her belongings would be back.
They weren’t.
“What’s wrong?” Scarlet asked, doing a mad make-over dash of her own to get changed for the ribbon-cutting.
“My sister has gone too far this time.” Eleanor tightened the towel she had wrapped around her body. “How am I ever going to be taken seriously again if I wear that?”
Scarlet’s gaze ran over the dress then over Eleanor from head to toe. “I’m pretty sure if you wear that there’s going to be a lot of people taking you seriously. Maybe one person in particular.”
Eleanor’s chest tightened. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t give me that. I’ve seen how you look at him.”
“Who?” Had her voice just squeaked?
Scarlet laughed. “Dr. Donaldson.”
“He barely knows I exist.”
Scarlet motioned to the dress. “You wear that and there’s not going to be a man alive who isn’t aware you exist.”
Eleanor crinkled her nose. Brooke she could see putting her into a dress she shouldn’t be in, but she trusted Scarlet. “You really think so?”
Scarlet gave her a duh look. “Hurry up and get changed and I’ll help you do your makeup and hair. You have great eyes and hair. We’ll play them up to draw attention to them.”
Great eyes and hair? Right. Had Brooke bribed her friend to say that? Next thing she would be telling her she had a great body.
“Of course, with a chest like yours it’s going to be difficult to keep attention anywhere but on your cleavage.”
That she knew. Which was why she never wore anything revealing or clingy. Her breasts were too big, but they matched her curvy hips and thighs.
But Scarlet was right. She was running out of time and it wasn’t as if she had anything else to wear. Plus, she felt ridiculous talking while wearing only a towel.
She let her gaze go back to the items in her locker. If she was going to look a fool, she might as well go for broke. “Why not?” She smiled at her friend. “We’d better hurry. Thanks to my father for being out of town and Brooke not being able to make it, yours truly is sort of the guest of honor.”
“You’re going to totally knock the socks off Dr. Donaldson,” Scarlet mused as Eleanor stepped into the dress. “It’s a perfect fit.”
Eleanor blinked, then put her glasses on and stared at herself in the mirror. “Yeah, but where’s the rest of the dress?”
She tugged on the material, trying to cover some of her cleavage, but only managed to hike the skirt higher up her thighs.
Dear Lord, if she bent over someone might get a glimpse of those tiny scraps of underwear Brooke had left her no choice but to wear or go commando.
Mortification set in. “I can’t go out in public like this.”
Scarlet inspected her then nodded. “You’re right. Hand ’em over.”
“Huh?”
“Your glasses. Give them to me.”
One hand protectively holding on to her frames, Eleanor shook her head. “I can’t see without them.”
Scarlet tsked. “You should get contact lenses. You have gorgeous eyes.”
“I have contacts.” She wore them for sports and exercise, but rarely when she was at the hospital as she was more comfortable behind the shield of her glasses. “But since my sister took my purse, I couldn’t put them in if I wanted to.”
“Not a problem.” Before Eleanor could stop her, Scarlet had plucked her glasses off her face and refused to give them back. “Now, let’s get you to the ribbon-cutting because you’re already five minutes late.”
Eleanor glanced at her arm, realized she wasn’t wearing her watch and frowned. Late? The senator was not going to be happy with his elder daughter.
During the whole walk to the new wing, Eleanor told herself that all the stares she was getting was because she was wearing a fancy red dress in a children’s hospital.
She knew better.
Thank goodness she’d decided to carry her heels because if she’d had to walk in those things over to the new wing, she’d have fallen flat on her face and probably split the seams of her dress in the process.
“Quit
