[Meet Your Match 01.0] Prejudice Meets Pride

by Rachael Anderson

  She blinked once, then twice before slowly shaking her head. In the darkness of the night, with shadows crossing this way and that, Emma’s usually light eyes were a deep indigo. If Kevin looked hard enough, would he be able to see all the way to her soul? And if so, what would he find? Somehow, he already knew the answer. He’d find a heart as big and warm and good as a giant peach picked from the tree on a warm summer’s day. She might even taste like peaches.

  Slowly, he dropped his hand from her mouth, and his gaze rested on her lips. Suddenly, he didn’t care that he was going to be her boss. He wanted to lean closer and kiss her. Pull her against him and feel her soft strength once again. He wanted—

  A muffled, tinny song sounded from somewhere, interrupting the moment. When Emma removed her phone from her pocket and the sound grew louder, Kevin’s initial instinct was to grab it from her and turn it off. But a deep breath and a reality check later, he realized that it had actually saved him.

  “I need to take this,” said Emma. “It’s my brother.”

  Kevin gave her a brief nod before slipping through the door and escaping, leaving Emma to talk to her brother. Whew, that had been close. Way too close. What had he been thinking? Besides not being his type at all, Emma would soon be his employee. That fact alone made her unavailable.

  Why was he even attracted to her? She was cute, but not beautiful. Too short. Broke. Tied down. Unpredictable. Disorganized. And way too prideful. She was the exact opposite of what Kevin was looking for in a girl. Was this some sort of rebellion on his part—going for the type of girl his parents would never approve of? Or were these feelings genuine—a desperate yearning for something deeper, something flawed, something real?

  “Janice, can you meet me in my office when you get a sec?” Kevin asked.

  His office manager rolled her chair back and stood, smoothing down her black pencil skirt. “I need to check on something with Steph, and I’ll be right there.”

  That was one of the things Kevin liked most about Janice. Not only was she professional, organized, and dependable, but she loved taking a pen to her to-do list and checking things off. She never put anything on the back burner that couldn’t be done today. Every day Kevin spent at the office was another day he thanked his lucky stars she’d answered his ad for an office manager two years before. His practice would be a mess without her.

  By the time Kevin returned to his office and had sat down, Janice came in and closed the door. She took a seat opposite him and tapped her pen against her trusty notebook. That was another awesome thing about her. She kept copious notes, and he never needed to say the same thing twice.

  “I’d like to talk to you about an employee I’ve recently hired,” Kevin said, not wasting any time. They only had a short break for lunch, and he planned to snatch a bite or two of his sandwich before the next patient showed up.

  Her sharp green eyes stared at him through dark framed glasses. “I’m sorry, did you just say—”

  Kevin held up his hand. “Just hear me out.”

  Janice leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. Her thin lips pressed together—a sure sign that she wasn’t happy. If there was one drawback to Janice’s on-top-of-it-all personality, it was this. She didn’t care for surprises or change. She liked order. She was a bit of a control freak like that.

  Hopefully, the fact that Kevin was the boss would smooth things over.

  “Who did you hire, and for what purpose? Or did you forget that we’re fully staffed?”

  “No, I didn’t forget. Her name is Emma…” What was it Adelynn had said? Mckay? No. “Mackie,” he finally said. Yes, that was it. Kevin suddenly realized how little he knew about Emma and how curious he was to know more. “She’s in desperate need of a job, so I offered her one.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I don’t know.” How could something that felt so good and chivalrous at the time now feel like the dumbest move he’d ever made? “Filing, answering phones, data entry, scrubbing the sinks and floors—I really don’t care.”

  “The filing is all caught up, we already have two part-time receptionists, someone to deal with insurance, and plenty of dental assistants, not that she’d be qualified to do that. When we do get behind, which is rare, the girls at the front fill in between calls and scheduling. I handle payroll, ordering, the trickier insurance claims, and managerial issues. And as for the sinks and floors—we have a cleaning lady who—”

  Kevin held up his hand to stop the barrage. “Okay, okay, I get it.” He wasn’t used to confrontation when it came to Janice. She typically nodded, took notes, made comments, then went about her business. Today, however, she apparently wasn’t going to let the issue drop with a “No problem. I’ll find something for her to do” like Kevin had originally hoped.

  He leaned back in his chair and raked his fingers through his hair. “I know we don’t need anyone else on staff at the moment, but this girl could really use a job. Besides that, I’ve already extended the offer, and she’s accepted. She’s coming tomorrow after she drops her girls off for their first day of school.”

  Janice’s lips parted, and her jaw lowered an inch. Then it quickly snapped back into a thin line again. An unhappy thin line. “What do you propose I have her do?”

  Kevin had no idea. Other than talking over problems with Janice, signing his name to whatever paper or card she thrust his way, and spearheading a weekly staff meeting, Kevin wasn’t involved in the day-to-day process of his practice. He checked the kids’ teeth, read x-rays, and filled cavities. He talked with parents and coaxed kids into opening their mouths. He didn’t have the time to deal with anything else. That’s what he’d hired Janice for.

  “There’s got to be something she can do,” Kevin said. “I know you’re here late practically every day. Why don’t you have her take a few things off your hands so you can leave on time with the rest of the staff?”

  “I like my workload the way it is and would never trust anyone else to do what I do.”

  “Janice, please,” Kevin pleaded. “This girl is basically a single mother. She’s broke and needs a flexible job that will work with her girls’ schedule. It’s only temporary. Once she finds a job more up her alley, she’ll move on.”

  “And what kind of job would that be?” The look in Janice’s eyes appeared calculating, as though she was already brainstorming ways to find Emma a different job.

  “She wants to be an art teacher.”

  The calculating look disappeared, replaced by an expression that said, You’ve got to be kidding me. “Great, I’ll have her create coloring books for the kids,” she said dryly.

  “Hey, not a bad idea.”

  Janice rolled her eyes, not bothering to jot anything down in her notebook. “Fine, whatever. I’ll pull out some files for her to re-file and find some data entry for her to do.”

  “Thanks, Janice.”

  “Next time, it would be nice if you ran things like this by me first,” she added.

  “I will,” he said. “And I apologize for that. If it helps, I promise there will never be a next time.” Kevin couldn’t help but wonder if he really was the boss or if Janice had crept in and taken over that title.

  Janice looked down at her lap, and her fingers fiddled with the pen in her hand as though she was nervous about something. Which was strange. Typically, after one of their meetings, she’d be out of her seat and back to work as soon as possible, but she made no move to do so now. Kevin thought back, wondering what had gone unsaid. When he came up with nothing, he finally asked, “Was there something else?”

  She nearly jumped at the words, then quickly stood. “No, sorry. I, uh, just—never mind.” She started for the door, then paused with her hand on the handle and turned back. “Actually, I do have a question.”

  “Shoot,” said Kevin, eyeing his mini-fridge, where a tuna sandwich called to him behind the closed door.

  “Do you like the Broncos?”

  “Who doesn’t?”r />
  She smiled. “Someone offered me two tickets for Friday night’s pre-season game. You interested? They’re amazing seats.”

  Sandwich forgotten, Kevin bit his lower lip, unsure of how to answer. Was she offering him the two tickets, or was she asking him out? “Interested in what?” he finally said, trying to clarify.

  Her cheeks infused with color. “Oh, sorry.” She shrugged. “I just didn’t want to go alone.”

  So she was asking him to go with her. As a date? As a friend? As a last-ditch invite because no one else could go, or because she knew that Kevin loved football and figured he’d want to go?

  As Kevin waffled, the feeling in the room became awkward and tense. First Emma and now this. Friend, date, regardless of whatever category Kevin fit into, he wasn’t about to make things even more complicated—not even for great seats to a Broncos game.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I can’t.”

  “Oh, okay. Maybe next time then.” The way she dipped her head and pushed her glasses back in place as she shot from the room told Kevin that he’d embarrassed her, which also told him that her invite was more than just a couldn’t-find-anyone-else-so-I’m-asking-you thing. People didn’t get embarrassed when someone they didn’t care about turned them down.

  He leaned back and sighed. This was one complication he could have done without.

  Emma drew in a deep breath then yanked hard on the door of Northwest Pediatric Dentistry. Inside, she was greeted with a clean, nondescript waiting room, smells of anesthetic mixed with fluoride, a child crying from somewhere in the back, and a smiling receptionist, who acted as though nothing was wrong.

  She approached the desk tentatively. “I’m here to see Kevin—er, I mean, Dr. Grantham.”

  The receptionist’s smile faltered briefly as she flicked a glance over her shoulder, toward the source of the same child now yelling, “No, no, no!” “Um, he’s a little tied up at the moment. Do you mind waiting?”

  “Of course not.” Emma settled into one of the seats and tapped her heels against the floor. Her fingers fiddled with the straps of her purse as she checked out the waiting room. There was a Lego table in the corner, a bookcase filled with children’s books, and a flat screen TV that played Monsters, Inc. Through a massive aquarium on her left, Emma caught a glimpse of a large exam room. Kevin sat in a chair next to the screaming child, with one assistant at his elbow and a frantic-looking woman hovering at the foot of the chair.

  Even though the boy was yelling and shaking his head, Kevin calmly talked to the boy. He opened a drawer and held up a shiny gold coin, and the boy, who appeared to be no more than three, finally stopped yelling. His mouth clamped shut as Kevin held up various dental tools, using the child’s hand to test them on. After a couple minutes of talking, the boy’s head finally nodded. Kevin gestured to the young girl at his side, probably the hygienist, and the boy nodded again. Kevin gave the boy a pat on the shoulder, handed him the gold coin and stood, switching the hygienist places.

  Emma admired his patience. He probably had to put up with that sort of thing a lot, and he’d handled it well.

  Only a few minutes later, the door next to the reception desk opened, and Kevin poked his head through. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Emma,” he said. “Come on back, and I’ll introduce you to Janice.”

  Emma nervously following him to the back, feeling out of place. Not only did she know nothing about dentistry, but she really didn’t know much about office work either. Kevin couldn’t have offered this job to a more under-qualified person.

  He led her to a small office in the back, where a woman not much older than Kevin typed on her computer. “Janice?” Kevin said, getting the woman’s attention. “I’d like you to meet Emma.”

  Emma walked into the room, still gripping her purse strings, and offered a tentative smile. “Nice to meet you.”

  Janice studied her through glasses that made her look both intelligent and sophisticated before nodding. “So, uh, you’re the artist.”

  Emma flicked a glance at Kevin. What had he said about her? What kind of person was Janice expecting? Someone adept, or did the “artist” title convey the truth—that Emma would need a lot of training? She hoped for the latter. There was nothing worse than falling short of someone’s expectations.

  “Have a seat,” Janice quipped.

  “We good here?” Kevin asked.

  “Just peachy,” came the reply.

  “Thanks, Janice,” Kevin said.

  The brief interchange made Emma feel as though she was a problem that had just been passed off to someone who didn’t want to deal with it.

  Emma gripped her purse straps, wanting to blurt out, “Sorry, this was a mistake,” and bolt, but Becky’s words came back to her mind, gluing Emma to her seat. You’re a mom now, and as such, you need to learn that it’s sometimes necessary to set your pride aside for the sake of your kids. Capiche?

  Capiche. As much as Emma didn’t want to be here, she would stay. Kajsa and Adelynn needed her to stay. Her credit card bill needed her to stay.

  An application appeared on the desk in front of Emma. “Mind filling this out for me?”

  “Sure.” Emma took her time with the forms. It was so much easier to write than fiddle with her purse straps in the awkward, tense silence. But when she noticed Janice glance her way for the third time, Emma quickly signed her name and set the pen down.

  “Finished?”

  “Finished.”

  Janice pushed back her chair and stood. “If you’ll follow me, I have some new patient files that need to be entered into our database. I’ll brief you on our system and let you get to work.”

  The thought of being left alone sounded really good to Emma. She couldn’t wait for Janice’s piercing stare to focus elsewhere. But that was before Janice’s five-minute explanation on what appeared to be an incredibly complex computer program. She said something about using the Tab key for one thing and Enter for another, then clicked different buttons and pointed to the areas Emma should input things like emergency numbers and insurance information. She blew through examples so fast that Emma couldn’t keep up, and by the time Janice took a step back and said, “Make sense?” Emma could formulate only one response.

  “Sure,” she lied.

  As Janice’s three-inch heels clacked against the tile floor, taking her away, Emma stared at the screen. Was she really supposed to remember all that? Did most people catch on that quickly, and was she just slow? Probably. Emma had never had a head for stuff like this.

  With a shrug, Emma picked up the first patient file, and after trying a few different things, finally found the Add a new patient option. She typed the last name of Carson in the appropriate field and hit Enter, but instead of moving the curser to the next line, it took her to a page she didn’t recognize. Huh? The ESC key only kicked her out of the patient form completely, putting her back to where she’d started—a blank canvas with a bunch of words and symbols sketched across the top.

  Oops.

  Emma cleared her throat and tried to look nonchalant as she repeated the initial step to add yet another new patient. A familiar, blank form appeared, and this time after typing the last name, Emma tried striking the Tab key. Like magic, the curser moved to the next line, exactly where she wanted it to go.

  Take that, complex and backward computer program. Emma smiled. Who needed an in-depth tutorial? Not her.

  Ten minutes later, her fingers came down on the keyboard with hard, frustrated strokes as she pounded out the last name of Carson for the fourth time. This was getting ridiculous. If it wasn’t for her natural instinct to hit the Enter or ESC keys, she’d be on the third patient by now. Instead, she kept inadvertently exiting out of the patient record and having to start all over. At this rate, she’d take all week to input the small stack of patient files Janice had given her. Why wouldn’t the stupid computer save what she’d already typed instead of making her redo everything? Where was the Save button anyway?

&
nbsp; There was none.

  A feeling of unease materialized in Emma’s stomach. Did this program automatically save everything? Were there now four Benjamin Carsons in the database, all in various stages of completion? If so, how did she find them?

  “Is there a problem?” Janice’s voice made Emma jump.

  She spun her chair around, hoping to block the computer screen from Janice’s view, and forced an overly bright smile. “Nope, I’m great.”

  A dark eyebrow raised above the dark frames as though Janice saw right through Emma’s bluff. “Good. Let me know when you finish or if you have any questions. I’ll be in my office.”

  “Will do.” Emma spun back around and held her breath until the clack of high heels receded. Why hadn’t that noise warned her that Janice was coming? she thought wryly. Or had Janice sneaked up on her?

  Now Emma was being ridiculous. Just because she hadn’t received the warmest of welcomes from Kevin’s office manager didn’t mean she should go accusing Janice of being sneaky. Emma was sure, underneath that piercing stare and rigid professionalism, that Janice was a nice person. She just had to get to know her better.

  Turning her attention back to the computer, Emma tried to find a list of all the patient files on record. Maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal to delete three of them, assuming they even existed, which she still wondered about. Unfortunately, the task turned out to be more difficult than she thought. Either a master patient list didn’t exist or it was buried under some hidden feature in this incredibly un-user friendly program. Who wrote the code for this anyway?

  Footsteps sounded behind Emma, and she quickly clicked on the New Patient Form option once again.

  “How’s it going?” Kevin asked.

  “Awesome.” Emma forced a smile to her face, glanced up to show it off, and went back to frowning at the screen.

  “It’s a great program, isn’t it?”

  “Awesome,” she said again, feeling the sudden urge to kick something. Knowing her luck, she’d probably just scheduled appointments that didn’t need to be scheduled or switched around crucial information, like insurance providers.