Breaking the Rules
Page 21
A dignified black woman in a white nurse’s uniform appeared at the counter behind Georgeanne’s desk. Georgeanne looked up with a warm smile. Zane wished she would direct all her smiles at him.
“Who was on the phone?” he heard Georgeanne ask.
“Mrs. Miguez is holding for Dr. Baghri,” the black woman said. “Tammy’s asthma is acting up again, and she’s panicking.”
“Oh, dear.” Georgeanne looked distressed and stood at once. “Dr. Baghri says she may have to be hospitalized this time. I’d better put him on immediately.”
“Have you seen my copy of Faking It?” the nurse asked. “I thought — there it is. You put your papers on top of it.”
Georgeanne glanced at the book on her desk and turned scarlet. Zane searched his memory but couldn’t immediately place the title. He resolved to look into the matter further. Anything that caused this incredible woman to blush interested him.
“What is it with you?” the nurse asked. “Every time I so much as mention this book, you do an imitation of a boiled lobster.”
“We have a visitor,” Georgeanne said, almost choking. “Would you mind getting that silly book off my desk?”
“What for?” the nurse asked, grinning. “Are you afraid the visiting doctor might see it and make a few assumptions?”
Georgeanne ignored that and hurried out of her office cubicle. She approached the doctors and spoke a few sentences in Dr. Baghri’s ear.
Zane watched her approach, smiled at her, and wished she would come close enough to speak in his ear. To his intense interest, she returned his smile and hurried back to her desk.
The telephone rang, and Georgeanne answered it without looking up when Zane crossed the room and glanced around her small cubicle.
“Yes, Mrs. St. George,” she said. “Yes, that’s the one. Thank you for telling me.”
Zane watched the smile that crept over her face with deep interest. She laughed, and Zane found himself equally fascinated by her full, rich chuckle.
“The article is based on my observations from working in a children’s clinic for several years,” she went on. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.” She listened a moment. “Well, someday I hope to have children of my own, of course. One of these days, when Mr. Right comes along.”
Zane’s mind filled in the other side of the conversation. Georgeanne had written an article. That didn’t surprise him at all, considering the way he’d been pouncing on her epistles for the past few weeks.
What did surprise him was the image that rose in his mind of Georgeanne with a dark-headed baby at her breast. In his years as a pediatrician, he had seen many, many women with babies at their breasts, but none of those real images rocked him the way the vision of Georgeanne did.
All he had to do to make it come true was convince Georgeanne she had at last met Mr. Right.
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