My comment didn’t get a reaction out of Megan. I reminded myself that her mother was around to pick up the slack. And besides, I was still new in town and figuring pitching phones out of window wasn’t the best idea to endear myself to my new patients – let alone Duncan.
I finished with Megan’s mother, who took notes as I explained some of the recent findings in infant nutrition. It said a hell of a lot about her mother that, despite already having raised at least one child on her own, she was still interested in learning more.
Six hit – time to go.
“Thanks for everything,” Megan’s mother said as she took the job of carrying little Aiden while Megan walked and texted at the same time. “I really appreciate it.” She turned to Megan, giving her a small shove. “Say thank you to Dr. O’Conner.”
“Thanks.” The word came out in a mumble.
“It’s my pleasure,” I said. “And feel free to be in touch if you have any questions.”
I led them to the lobby and said my goodbyes as they left. And the moment they were out the door I let out a sigh.
“Megan seem interested in actually being a mom?”
I glanced over my shoulder in the direction of the voice and found Duncan. He emerged out of his office with a knowing smile on his face. The rest of the staff had gone home, and Megan and her mother were the last patients of the day. Duncan and I were alone in the huge office.
“I swear – not a good sign when a new mother cares more about likes on Instagram than taking care of her babe.”
“She’ll learn,” he said. “Takes a little while for mothers that young to wrap their heads around what they’ve gotten themselves into. And being a single mother…it’s got to be hard. Think of what she’s doing less as not caring and more coping with a rough situation.”
“It’s all the more reason to stay single and childless,” I said.
“Wait until you’ve got some of your own before denouncing every baby in the world.” He followed this up with a warm smile.
“It’s not the babes I’m worried about – it’s the teenagers. God, can you imagine giving your best years to a kid only to have them turn into brats when puberty hits? Sounds like a nightmare.”
“It’s part of life. You do your best, you love them, take care of them, and yeah, you put up with them when hormones don’t let them think straight.”
“I’ll skip it, thank you very much.”
He leaned against the receptionist’s desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then I’m guessing this is a bad time to invite you to a family get-together at my place?”
“A family get-together?
“Nothing huge – a dozen or so friends, along with their kids.”
“Ah, that kind of family get-together. Appreciate it, of course, but I’ll pass.”
Duncan’s dark, thick eyebrows flicked up in mild surprise. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. Like I said, I appreciate the offer. But I don’t know what the hell I’d do at a thing like that.”
“Bud, I’m not asking you to babysit. The kids will be downstairs playing, and the adults will be upstairs.”
“But still, it’s going to be couples and all that. Still not my scene.”
“Gonna be lots of unattached people there,” he said with a grin. “Not all our friends are married. You might make some good connections. Hell, maybe you’ll even meet someone.” The emphasis he put on the words made it clear what he meant by that.
I laughed. “Last thing on my mind right now.”
Well, that was only partially true – I’d been doing a little more thinking about romance since seeing Kenna. Or, at the very least, thinking of sex.
“Well, think about it,” Duncan said as he returned to his office to grab his cap and jet-black topcoat and throwing them on. “Beer and good food and some playoff games. Can’t go wrong.”
He was making a pretty damn good case. And what else was I going to do Saturday afternoon? Hang around my condo and watch TV? I stepped into my own office as I pondered it, grabbing my coat and slipping it on.
“Oh,” Duncan said as we walked to the elevator. “You give any more thought to the charity clinic?”
“Sure have. Sounds like a pretty damn fine idea. I’m more than happy to put in some time.”
He flashed me a smile. “Glad to hear it. I was thinking about something else, too.” He pressed the button for the elevator, the green down arrow above the door chiming to life.
“What’s that?”
“Dr. Peters is only going to be out for a month and a half or so. When he’s back, it’ll be tricky to find you a spot in a clinic around town. I’ve got plenty of clinics, so I’m sure I’ll be able to find something for you. But it’d be a damn shame to send you off to St. Louis or Omaha the second you get settled in here.”
“Hey, I packed up and moved here from Dublin,” I said. “Moving around’s nothing to me.”
The doors opened with another chime and we stepped inside.
“Sure, but there’s something to be said for putting down roots. I’ve known doctors who move from place to place, wherever the job needs them. It’s fine for a time, but it always ends up the same way – they hit middle-age and realize they don’t have a place to call home.”
“Who needs a home when you’ve got work? That’s what I’m planning on living for.”
“I’m not here to tell you how to live your life. I might make a suggestion or two, but when you’re as happy as I am, you can’t help but want your friends to get in on it too.”
“Understandable. And appreciated.”
He smiled and nodded. “Anyway, it’d be a shame to send you off as soon as you get settled. Point I’m making is that if you get involved in the charity clinic I’ve got in mind, there might be a paying position in it for you – if that’s something that appeals to you. You could work that while you look for another clinic job or wait for one of mine to open up.”
“Sounds about damn near perfect,” I said, liking the sound of it.
The doors opened, and we stepped out into the lobby. The place was empty aside from a few maintenance workers. Snow came down in bright white sheets outside.
“Something to think about,” he said as we approached the doors to outside. Duncan pulled them open, a gust of cold air blasting us both in the face.
We said our goodbyes and Duncan was off. I kept my head down against the blustery winds and was soon behind the wheel of my silver Land Rover.
I had hell of a lot to think about, and the more time I spent in Denver, the more certain I was that my stay in the States would be a hell of a lot more complicated than I’d expected.
Maybe even a hell of a lot more fun.
Chapter 6
KENNA
Marla Whitford, the president of Heart to Hand charity, was not impressed.
I’d given the presentation my all, spending the few days working until the wee hours of the morning putting something together for the event. And I had to admit, I was expecting to blow her away. But when I was finished, standing in front of the big screen in the conference room, the mockup of the décor a wash of all different shades of pink, all I got in response was a look of total skepticism.
“It’s…nice.”
Nice was the worst word there was. Didn’t matter the context – from dates to reports to meetings with family members of significant others, nice was the last way you wanted to de described. Nice, at best, meant inoffensive and a little boring. At worst, it meant totally snooze-worthy.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Was this not what you were looking for?”
Marla, trim and blonde and middle-aged, dressed in the kinds of flashy but tacky clothes that only the rich could afford, scrunched her face up as she tried to think of the right words. “It’s…nice. I mean, maybe for some other organization it’d be perfect. But not for Heart to Hand.”
Heart to Hand was one of those charity organizations that, in addition to doing good in the world
, also provided rich folks an opportunity to get dressed up and party. And Marla was most definitely one of those types. Her husband was some millionaire finance guy, and the more I worked with her, the more I got the impression he’d given her the charity so she’d have something to do.
I wasn’t judging her. Heart to Hand did amazing work, helping fundraise for numerous other charities around the city, from those involving children to animal rescue foundations.
“Well, we’ve got the Magnolia Room booked – it’s the hottest new events space in the city at the Magnolia Hotel. And Chef Bennett DeWitt’s also booked to do the food. We’ve got tons of ideas for décor, and everything’s set to make this the charity event of the season.”
Marla still appeared unimpressed. “That all sounds good,” she said, sitting up slightly. “I love the Magnolia Room, and Chef DeWitt’s got a great name around town. It’s just…the color scheme you’ve chosen.”
I stepped back away from the screen and looked it over. The mockup of the Magnolia Room, done by one of our graphic designers, looked amazing – romantic and fairy-tale-esque, but also tasteful.
“What don’t you like about it? The theme is true love and romance, right?”
She smiled and nodded, as if she’d come up with the idea and couldn’t be any prouder. “That’s right. But when I think about romance I’m not thinking about pink hearts and red roses and all that cliché stuff. I’m thinking excitement; I’m thinking danger.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise, but I checked myself. After all, my job was to give the client what he or she wanted. Problem with that, however, was that they so rarely actually knew what they wanted.
“Okay,” I said. “Excitement and danger.” I took out my trusty Moleskin notebook and jotted down the words.
“Right.” Marla stood up, an eager look in her eyes. “You know when you first meet a guy, and you’re into him like crazy? But you’ve got no idea who he is, right? For all you know, he could be a…a criminal or something!”
Yikes. This was not at all what I thought about when it came to romance, but the number one rule was that the customer was always right.
“I’m thinking deep reds and oranges – the colors of fire and heat and sex.”
“For a charity event?” I asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of my voice.
“That’s right.” She stepped over to me and turned toward the screen, crossing her arms under her chest and regarding the mock-up. “I don’t want some boring, stuffy charity event – I want the guests to be thrilled, to have that same rush you get when you’re making eyes with some handsome businessman in first class and you’re wondering if he wants to slip off to the bathroom and join the Mile-High Club as much as you do.”
I got the distinct impression Marla was speaking from experience.
“Sure – a charity event where you also might get screwed in the bathroom.” I jotted it all down.
“Or in the coat room, or in the kitchen, or…” A dreamy expression formed on her face. “Or in the back of a Bentley with a certain European prince.” She smiled, memories apparently flooding her brain.
Which one it was, I could only guess. Had to admit, I was kind of curious.
“You’ve got a good foundation,” she said, turning around toward me. “But it needs more work. Do another mock-up along the lines of my suggestions and we’ll meet again on Monday. I want it to be perfect. And I’m won’t accept anything less.”
“Perfect. Got it.”
She checked her Cartier watch. “I need to get going – lunch date with the girls. Talk to you on Monday, Kendra! Can’t wait to see what you come up with. I’ll see myself out.”
She flashed me one more pearl-white-veneered smile before sashaying out. On the other side of the door, I watched as Gia zipped in and spoke with Marla. The two of them chatted, and I could only watch through the glass walls of the conference room. Once they were done, Gia and Marla shook hands. Marla headed to the reception area, and Gia opened the door and stepped into the conference room.
“Wow,” Gia said, plopping into the seat at the head of the table and putting her feet up on the surface. “That Marla – she’s something else.”
“No kidding,” I said, sitting down in one of the other open chairs. “I wasn’t sure if I should’ve been taking notes or spraying her down with the nearest garden hose.” Gia laughed with me. “What did she say out there?”
“Don’t worry – she said you’re doing a great job so far. You’ve been communicative and on the ball. But she said you might need a little help dialing in on what she’s looking for.” Gia glanced over her shoulder at the screen and the pink-stravaganza still there. “And something tells me it’s not that.”
“I went with classic, right? Romance is pink and white and sweet. That wasn’t what she wanted, however.”
“Well, that’s the thing – part of your job is coaxing out of our clients just what it is they’re looking for.”
“It’s crazy.” I shook my head, leaning forward. “Never fails to blow me away how our clients will pay for our expertise, but then when we offer it, tell us that they know best.”
Gia grinned. “That’s how it goes – it only gets worse the higher up you get. But there’s a trick to making it all work.”
“Getting them to think ideas that we come up with are ideas they came up with.”
“Ding, ding. It’s the whole Inception thing, letting them take the credit for our stuff.”
It all made sense, but as I looked over the notes I took from my conversation with Marla, the less confident I felt about putting it all together.
“But what she wants…it’s so tacky. The more she went on about it, the more it sounded less like a charity and more like a burlesque show from hell.”
Gia laughed. “And that’s part of it too. You take their ideas and figure out how to temper them into something more reasonable.” She remained calm through the conversation, her even attitude preventing me from feeling too stressed out.
“I’m sure I can do it. But I’ll need to go home, scrap all the mockups, coordinate with the graphic designers, and figure something out.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to get it done.”
“I might, but that means I’ll need all weekend to do it. And that means no party.”
A firm headshake was her response to that. “Not a chance. You’re coming to this party whether you like it or not.”
“I want to – I really do. And it’d be so great for the twins to get some playtime in. But I don’t know when I’ll be able to find the time.”
“Here’s how you’re going to find it – do what you can until Saturday. And whatever you don’t have done by Saturday, we’ll get done together on Sunday.”
“What? No way. Gia, I’m not going to make you give up your weekend just to get me out of a jam.”
“It’s not me giving up my weekend – it’s me making sure my potential new partner is set up to blow this event out of the water. And besides, it’ll be good for the twins. You can bring them over and Gavin can babysit for a few hours. He’ll love it.”
I sighed, still not feeling great about the idea. “You sure?”
“I’m sure. Even if you make partner - sorry, when - it’ll be the same way. This is a team, not a bunch of people going it alone. You need help, I’m here for you. And the other way around.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Gia.”
“Anytime. Now, go ahead and take the rest of the day off. And stay in tomorrow and work from home if you need to. Because don’t forget – you’ve got a pineapple upside-down cake to bring.”
I couldn’t help but grin at Gia’s attitude.
“Thanks, G.”
She gave my shoulder a squeeze, then rose and left the conference room. I felt better after Gia left; the pep-talk had been exactly what I needed. Gia was not only a great friend, but a born leader. And more than that, she seemed pretty damn confident that I’d ace this job and make partner. All I could do w
as hope I’d live up to her expectations for me.
I started work right away, organizing a quick meeting with Jess, one of our graphic designers. I went over the plans for the new proposal, explaining what Marla had in mind. We worked together for the rest of the day, and when we were done, I told her I’d spend the next couple of days mocking up some sketches.
After work, I stopped by the store and grabbed a few things for dinner, along with the ingredients for the cake. There was no chance in hell I’d be able to make it tonight – I had dinner to worry about and sparing a few hours to put together a cake wasn’t going to happen with all the work I had to do.
As I drove home from the store, the pep talk Gia had given me began to wear off. It was strange to begin with – I never needed pep talks; I’d always been the kind of woman to make myself feel better. I thought about how lucky Gia was to not have to go it alone, to have a good man by her side. Sure, Mom and Dad helped like crazy, but I didn’t like relying on them.
The snow came down hard. A text from Mom let me know the kids were missing me, hoping I’d be home soon. At the next red light, I responded, telling Mom I was on my way. A picture of the kids was her reply. They were why I was doing all of this. Just the sight of my favorite little people was enough to bring back my usual determination.
Still, a handsome man would really complete the picture. A handsome Irish man.
“Absolutely not,” I said out loud as I drove.
Finn? Doc McHottie?
Not a chance!
Chapter 7
FINN
Duncan and Annie knew how to live.
Their three-story house was more like a damn castle, all gray stone with impressive-looking columns out front, a staircase leading to a portico with two arched double doors. The circular driveway in front was lined with a dozen or so luxury cars. A handful of well-dressed men and women were in front, talking amongst themselves.
The Irish Doctor’s Secret Babies: A Secret Baby Romance Page 6