like make a big pot of healthy soup or something, but she’d planned to go to the Sunday event anyway.
The good doctor winked at her. “Whatever we find, we’ll nip it in the bud, right?”
“You bet.” With her heart aching, she wished she could guarantee that would be the case, but they passed a look between them that said it all. As pathologists, they knew when cancer reared its head the hunt was on. It was their job to be relentless in tracking it down, the surgeons’ job to cut it out, and the oncologists’ to find the magic healing potion to obliterate anything that was left.
Medical science was a tough business, and Charlotte Johnson had signed on in one of the most demanding fields. Pathology. She’d never get used to being the bearer of bad news. Usually the doctors had to take it from there once she handed over the medical verdict. She considered Jim Gordon to be a dear friend as well as colleague and any findings she came up with he’d know had come directly from her. The responsibility unsettled her stomach.
Now that she’d dealt with her own deepest fear—and Jim Gordon had condoned her radical decision two years ago at the age of thirty-two—she was damned if she’d give up being an optimist for him.
Come Monday morning she’d be ready for the toughest call of her career, and it would be for Dr. Gordon. Her mentor. The man she’d come to respect like a father. But first she’d have to make it through the garden party on Sunday afternoon, and the one bright spot in that obligation was the chance to see her secret surgeon crush again. Dr. Jackson Hilstead.
CHARLOTTE DIDN’T WANT to admit she’d picked the Capri blue patterned sundress only because Dr. Hilstead had liked her turquoise top on Friday, though the thought had entered her mind while searching her closet for something to wear on Sunday morning.
It had been a long time since she’d even considered wearing a dress cut like this, which made her feel uncomfortable, so she’d compromised with a white, lightweight, very loosely knit, three-quarter-sleeved summer sweater. To help cover the dipping neckline, she chose several strings of large and colorful beads. On a whim, she left her hair down, letting the thick waves touch the tops of her shoulders and making no excuses for the occasional ringlet around her face. And this shade of blue sure made her caramel-colored eyes stand out.
With confidence, later that afternoon, she stepped into the St. Francis of the Valley atrium, which connected to an outdoor patio where dozens of doctors had already begun to gather. At the moment she didn’t recognize a single face, all of the residents looking so young and eager. But there was Antwan with a young and very attractive woman on his arm. Relieved he wasn’t alone, she glanced around the cavernous room.
She recognized several large painted canvases and they drew her attention to the bright white walls as she realized the ocularist down the hall from her office, Andrea Rimmer, had painted them. In fact, she’d bought several of her early paintings at an art auction because she’d loved her style so much, but these paintings were signed with a different name because Andrea had married a pediatrician, Sam Marcus, so her name had changed now. Anyway, the paintings of huge eyes peeking through various openings were amazing, each iris completely different from the next, and Charlotte was soon swept up in imagining their meaning.
Totally engrossed with admiring the newest paintings of her current favorite artist, she jumped when someone tapped her shoulder. That flutter of excitement flitted right on by when she realized it was Dr. Dupree.
“You’re looking extra fine today,” he said, making a show of looking her up and down.
“Thank you. Where’s your date?”
“Getting some refreshments.” His line of vision stayed on her chest. “All those necklaces remind me of the Caribbean.”
“They’re just some beads I threw on, that’s all. Oh, look.” She really wanted to divert his interest from her chest. “Your lady friend is searching for you.”
“If I didn’t assume you’d have a date today, I would have asked you myself.”
“I’m here as the representative of the pathology department. This garden party is all business for me.”
“Such a shame. If you ever want to actually have a good time, let me know. You don’t know what you’re missing until you’ve gone out with me.”
Seriously? “If this is any example of how you treat your dates, count me out. Now go spend some time with the very attractive woman you’ve brought. Shoo.” She used her hands to shoo him away, like the pest he was. Man, it ticked her off how he treated women as interchangeable objects.
Frustration and anger interfered with her enjoying the artwork, and though she already really wanted to leave, she had promised Dr. Gordon to be the face of Pathology today. So she forced herself to head toward the refreshment table, where several of the new doctors stood talking among themselves. She glanced up in time to see something to make her get excited. Jackson Hilstead was easy to spot, being a head taller than others in his group, as he moved into the atrium. Charlotte found her smile come to a halt when she noticed that to Jackson’s right was the assistant head of the hospital laboratory, Yuri Ito. His hand rested on her shoulder, like he was guiding her. Obviously they’d come together.
Why had Jackson asked if she was coming to the party if he was bringing a date? Her previous excitement turned to disappointment, making the thought of eating sour on her tongue. What else was new? Why had she even let herself follow her fancy in the first place? Antwan may have been right about the surgeon. Maybe he was as much of a lady’s man as Dupree. What was up with surgeons?
Halfheartedly, she moved on to the buffet and picked a few items to pretend she was busy, rather than try to make eye contact with Jackson. What was the point? She greeted a few of the new residents, introducing herself and inviting them to stop by anytime for a quick tour of the department. The two young women and one guy all seemed very receptive, maybe even a little too enthusiastic. The dip may have looked great but it tasted bland, matching her mood, since eyeing the tall surgeon with Yuri, but she forced herself to partake.
Another tap on the shoulder sent her heart skittering once more, until she turned to face Antwan again. How did he keep ditching his date?
“Here,” he said, handing her a glass of punch. “You’ll like this—it’s for grown-ups. And it reminds me—”
“Let me guess—of the Caribbean? Evidently everything does today.” She took the drink and sipped, pleasantly surprised by the sweet taste with a kick, as it was definitely a grown-up beverage. “Thanks.” She forced a smile and received a much-too-eager grin in return. The sight made her eyes immediately dance away in time to connect with Jackson’s where he stood a few feet away.
“Hi,” he said, over the crowd.
“Hello,” she mouthed back.
Jackson couldn’t miss Antwan standing right beside her, which was probably why he quickly looked away. But she’d been clear with him about having nothing going on with Dr. Dupree, and hoped he’d believed her. Which further proved that looks could be deceiving.
So much for getting all dolled up for a man. Except Antwan seemed to appreciate her efforts. Backfire! “Oh, look, there’s your date. Isn’t she one of the new surgical residents? I’m going to introduce myself.”
