Fiance for Keeps

by Gail Chianese

  “She hates violence. How can we protect her while she’s filming? As her attorney, can I be on the set to advise her?”

  “It doesn’t always work out the way it did for me. She might find the one.”

  Yeah, but what if instead she found the one who wanted a quick trip to fame or revenge on his ex-girlfriend or thought hey, a doctor means a free meal ticket? Underneath Denise’s rock-steady professional appearance hid a very sensitive girl in a house full of cheerleaders, one who got off on dissecting frogs and learning how the human body ticked instead of gossiping about the latest Hollywood couple. Someone who trusted that people said what they meant and that every word was the truth.

  “Once they start filming all contact with the outside world has to go through the show’s producers. She’ll have to turn over her cell phone. There’s no contact with her family or friends—just the show’s staff and the men.”

  “Then there’s only one option left.”

  “Brody, what are you thinking?” Cherry asked, but was already shaking her head like she knew the answer.

  Denise had come to him for help and he didn’t plan to let her down.

  “Get me on the show as a contestant.”

  Denise sat in front of Simon’s desk for the third time in a week—a departmental record. Most of the residents and all the interns avoided the chief of staff’s office like Ebola. As her buddy Shad pointed out to her, she liked to live on the edge. If only her friend knew.

  Simon hung up from the call he’d had to take and focused on her. “Denise, you’re an outstanding doctor, my top resident, and I’d like to help, but six weeks off? HR is complaining with you gone, we’ll be short staffed.”

  She squashed the urge to tap her foot. “I have sixty days leave on the books, and I do apologize for the short notice. They won’t let me out of the contract.”

  Her boss looked at her for several long minutes without saying anything. Suddenly she was sixteen again and her dad had caught her sneaking in late. His eyes too had filled with suspicion, then disappointment and finally resignation.

  “Are you still happy here?” he asked gently.

  “Of course,” she squeaked. “I love my job. Why do you ask?”

  “We’ve pushed you hard over the years to be the best—I pushed you hard—because I knew hiding behind that quiet intern would someday be the person to take over my job. If I remember right, when you finished your internship you told me someday you’d have my job. I need to know: is that still your intention?”

  The question weighed heavily. She really didn’t know anymore if that was her goal. Things had changed in the past few weeks . . . well, months. Where once the rush of life-and-death cases kept her running on an adrenaline high for weeks after, now they left her feeling empty.

  “Are you planning to retire soon, sir?”

  “Not for another few years.”

  “Good, because I’m not quite ready to fill your shoes.”

  He tapped his finger on his desk. “I can approve your vacation for three weeks. After that, it’s up to the administration. Normally, I would say it isn’t a problem, but we had two residents put in their resignations. Oates and Hall are both transferring to Chicago. As for your fellowship, you’ll probably be passed over and have to wait another year before you can apply again.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll keep trying to get out of the contract, or see if they can speed up the filming schedule.”

  She got up to leave and he held up a hand to stop her. “Denise, either way, take the three weeks. You’ve earned a break and, I’d say, a little fun. Promise me, though, that you won’t do anything that will reflect badly on the hospital, and that you’ll give the ER your full focus and not let the preshow prep interfere with your job. It’ll go a long way with the higher-ups.”

  “You can count on me, sir.” She gave him a smart salute and walked out of the office and into chaos.

  “Denise, need you in exam room two. Car accident victim. Head trauma, collapsed lung, and possible internal bleeding.” Jenna gave her the rundown as they pulled on protective gowns and pushed through the doors. “Oh, and when we’re done in here, you’ve got two men waiting for you in the lounge.”

  She doubled up the latex gloves, letting go with a snap. “Who are they?”

  “Don’t know, but both are tan and one’s got a camera.”

  Great, not even ten seconds out of Simon’s office and she’d be breaking her promise. Well, Hollywood would have to wait because right now real life needed her attention.

  The attending barked out orders and Denise put all thoughts of cameras and dating shows out of her mind. The victim couldn’t have been more than eighteen, if that. Baby face. Not a hint of a five o’clock shadow. The only thing marring his complexion was a nasty bruise where his cheek probably had met the steering wheel.

  Working the ER you saw everything from splinters to the worst life had to dish out. Some cases hit closer to home than others; this one brought back memories of her sisters. The three of them had decided to surprise their parents with dinner but were out of a few key ingredients. Elysia and Chel had run to the grocery store for her. As they backed out of the parking space some guy in a truck had barreled down the aisle and clipped the back end, sending the car into a spin. Thank goodness the spaces next to them had been empty.

  Both girls had had the daylights scared out of them. Chel, who had been sixteen and due to take her driving test the following week, had refused to get behind the wheel for several months.

  Denise was at home when the call came in. She’d seen her mom’s face, watched the color drain out of it, and if not for her dad, her mom would have slipped to the floor. The Saunderses got lucky that day, and Denise was determined this boy’s family would have the same luck.

  Shoving all other thoughts away, she focused on the task at hand, inserting a tube into his lung to reinflate it.

  While she worked on getting the boy breathing regularly, the attending took care of his other injuries and barked out more orders. Between the team they got him stabilized, the bleeding under control. He’d need several tests run to see the extent of the damage, but the immediate danger had passed.

  She left the exam room and headed to the nurses’ station. “Valerie, if anyone shows up asking about the car victim, let Dr. West know right away. I’ll take the stomach virus in five.”

  “Okay, but you’ve got a visitor in the lounge. I can give five to Shad.”

  Right. She’d completely forgotten about the men waiting. Okay, maybe, probably she’d hoped they’d get tired of waiting and leave. Time tended to stand still when you were in the midst of saving a life. Hours? Minutes? Your focus was on the patient, his vitals and injuries. You were too busy to look at the clock; noting the time usually meant you’d failed.

  She pushed through the lounge door and stopped. “Chel! What are you doing here?” Denise walked over and gave her baby sister a hug, again forgetting about the men waiting for her.

  Chel glanced toward the couch, where the two men had kicked back and looked to have fallen asleep. “I had lunch with Elysia and—” She glanced at the men again before leaning in close. “I heard your news and hers. OMG! I go out of town for the weekend and you two run amok. Are you going?”

  Her voice was a hushed whisper, but Denise looked over to the men to see if they were paying attention. Neither stirred. Thank you, jet lag. To be on the safe side, she nodded twice while putting a finger to her lips.

  Silently, Chel clapped her hands and bounced on her toes. “Okay, now I get to tell you my news.” She kept her voice as low as possible, but a few squeaks escaped with her excitement. “I’m getting married.” Her sister’s eyes opened wide as she clamped down on her mouth to keep the squeal inside. Or rather, tried to keep it inside.

  Everything around Denise faded out until all she could hear was her own breath, coming in slow and loud, and her baby sister’s words: I’m getting married. The statement pounded over and over and over
in her brain until she wanted to scream. The wild child was settling down. The one who said she’d never say “I do” was going to do exactly that, and she was going to do so before Denise.

  Denise was going to be that sister, the one all the relatives and friends clucked over at the wedding. The one they whispered about, and they’d pat her hand and say things like “Don’t worry, your turn will come,” and then, as soon as they thought they were out of hearing, would mumble about how she’d passed on her one and only chance.

  “Congratulations,” a deep, rough male voice said from behind them.

  Both women turned and Chel thanked him, and that was when Denise noticed both men were sitting up, wide awake, with the camera rolling.

  Great. Not only was her baby sister getting married before her but it was going to be played on national TV.

  Chel would have to sign a release, which was so not a problem because Denise knew the wild child would jump at the chance to have her five seconds of fame.

  “I’m sorry can you turn the camera off, please?” Denise asked nicely as she walked over and flipped the blinds closed.

  The guy with the camera looked over to the other guy, who nodded. Not that Denise would have argued with him either. Even sitting down she could tell the guy was huge, and when he stood up and offered her a ginormous paw to shake she kept looking up and up and up until she met his gaze and smiled.

  “Hi, I’m Steve Forge, one of the producers with Finding Mr. Right, and this is Rod, my cameraman. In case you missed that part.”

  “Got it, but what I don’t get is what you’re doing here.” Dr. Simon would flip if he found them filming in the ER. “I thought you were supposed to show up next week. My boss is going to kill me if he sees you here.”

  “Relax. We got permission from the hospital board, along with all the caveats about what we couldn’t do, which is basically everything. What I really wanted to do today was introduce ourselves and invite you to dinner so we can talk about the shots we need here. Cherry and Tawny and their guys have invited us to their place because we need to keep a pretty low profile for right now. The show execs want to keep a lid on your identity until the premiere.”

  Denise sank into a nearby chair. Her heart rate pounded out the rhythm of the drums from Jumanji, picking up the tempo until she was sure a stampede of wild animals would burst through the lounge walls at any minute. “Oh, wow. I can’t believe this is really happening.”

  “Are you okay?” Steve bent down next to her. “Do you need me to get a doctor?”

  “I am a doctor,” replied Denise.

  “Yeah, right. Look, I’m sorry. I know you don’t really want to do this, and after Cherry called me, I tried to get the boss to go with someone else, but he said you had the face of an angel and the body of a . . . never mind. The point is, he said you were the one to save the show. Nothing personal, because any friend of Cherry and Tawny’s is a friend of mine, but I like being employed. It keeps the hubby happy.”

  Denise liked the guy. With his height—somewhere around six-four—and his rounded belly, he kind of looked like a bear standing on his hind legs, except this bear had a red, scraggly beard that totally didn’t match his dark brown hair. Nor had she ever seen a bear with ice-blue eyes before.

  “Don’t worry about it. Totally my fault for not double-checking the contract before signing on the dotted line. What do you need from here?”

  “Just some footage of you working. You heading into an exam room.” He held up his hand to stop her. “It won’t have anyone inside. Another shot with you checking over an X-ray and maybe consulting with another doc or giving instructions to a nurse. There won’t be any sound. We’ll dub over it with music and you talking later. For now, we need you looking doctorly and sharing your everyday life with the viewers.”

  “It’s a good thing you picked today instead of yesterday—six cases of the flu. Pretty sure your viewers don’t want to see that.”

  “You two are sisters, right?” the cameraman asked as he showed something to Steve on the small screen. When both she and Chel nodded, he smiled. “Good, because I’d love to use the footage of her telling you about the engagement. Viewers will love it. The look on your face was shock and then happiness. You’re very expressive.”

  It was. I am. If that was the case, then it wasn’t happiness the camera picked up.

  “I get to be on TV?” Chel’s squeal pierced Denise’s eardrums.

  “Sure,” said Steve. “You need to sign a release form first, though.”

  “Anything to help my big sister out.”

  Yeah, right. More like bragging rights to all of her friends.

  Denise pushed out of the chair and blew out a breath as she rolled her eyes at her sister. Who was she to knock Chel for being excited about thirty seconds of airtime when she’d signed up for months of it? “Give me five and we can get this done.”

  “Uh, sis?” Chel stopped her. “You might want to take a little longer than five minutes, maybe do something with your hair and those dark circles under your eyes, and a clean pair of scrubs wouldn’t hurt either.” Chel did some weird twirly hand thing as she pointed out all Denise’s flaws.

  And so it began: the hell she’d have to live through for the next six weeks as her every move, the way she looked, what she ate, said, did, and every choice she made was scrutinized and directed.

  Chapter Seven

  Two weeks later, Denise stood in a makeshift dressing room in the middle of Golden Gate Park. It was really happening. While the young woman doing her makeup applied the final touches to her eyes, Denise let her mind go over all the instructions she’d been given. Three days of don’t do this, don’t say that, do this, and, above all else, be yourself, act natural, and forget about the cameras.

  Right.

  Sounded easy. Until you noticed the cameras all over the place. The show had rented a gorgeous waterfront home in the exclusive town of Belvedere that had a view of the San Francisco skyline and the Golden Gate Bridge. If it hadn’t been for the cameras (thankfully not in the bathroom!) it would have been a dream home.

  The men had their own place down the road with an equally stunning view, and she knew they had arrived the day before, but today was when she’d get her first look at her future.

  “Hey, sunshine. How you holding up?” Steve popped into her tent and handed her a bottle of ice-cold water.

  Bless him.

  “I’ll be fine as long as I don’t pass out.”

  “If you do, there are plenty of hunky men to catch you.” He grinned and took the chair opposite her. “So, survival tips. Ready?”

  She nodded and took a sip of the water, savoring the coolness as it slipped down her throat. Considering the temperature had only reached fifty so far, she shouldn’t be burning up. Nerves.

  “Okay, if you forget a guy’s name, no big. Casually let your gaze wander past the camera crew. Someone will have a card with the name on it, along with his age and occupation.”

  “Got it. What else do you have for me? Any escape plans?”

  “No, but if you need a break, signal me and I’ll escort you to the restroom. We’ll break from the chaos of the party to do individual interviews. Use that time to talk to some of the other guys who haven’t had any time with you. You don’t want to send someone home who might be the right one, but you never talked to him. And remember, they’re just as nervous as you are. Also, it’ll be hard, but ignore the madness around you.”

  She listened to the instructions the whole time fighting to keep her water down. Why, oh why, did she ever think this would be fun or a good idea?

  Someone walked by the open tent flap and yelled “Show time.” Steve walked her out of the tent, keeping a hand on her shoulder to lend support but not wrinkle her sundress. They walked down the path and through the flowered arbor that had been set up. Later, after each guy introduced himself, he would disappear up the path to the picnic area.

  Denise took her position. The director yell
ed action. Chris Morrison, the host and executive producer, walked up to her and gave her a hug.

  “In just a few minutes, the men are going to start pulling up. But before they do, I need to share something with you. Our selection committee wanted to do everything they could to help you find the man of your dreams. They reviewed hundreds of applications and, based on what you told us you were looking for, they’ve selected twenty-one bachelors, all of whom are looking for love. At the end of today’s welcome picnic, you’re going to have to pick the fourteen guys you think might be Mr. Right.”

  Her eyes popped open wider at the numbers Chris had thrown out there. Hundreds of applicants? So glad I didn’t have to review them. Twenty-one men is more than enough for me.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  “I think so; at least we’ll find out in a few minutes.” As she spoke, the first limo came into sight. Chris wished her good luck and faded off to his magical hiding place.

  The limo came to a halt. The driver slid out silently and opened the back door.

  Oh, boy, here we go.

  The first man out had brown hair and blue eyes—a killer combination—tall, fit, and smiled as soon as his gaze landed on Denise. He walked to her and took both her hands in his. “Are you nervous? I am.” His voice held a deep Southern drawl.

  Denise nodded, not able to find her voice yet.

  “Is it okay if I hug you? I find hugs make everything better.”

  Aww. “Sure,” Denise said.

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, but not so tight she couldn’t breathe or got the creepy crawlies. After a minute or two he pulled back and took her hands again. “Better?”

  “Much. Thank you . . .”

  “Josh. This is for you.” Out of his pocket he pulled a small acrylic box with little blue flowers inside.