Things were not going well for Kyle. Something was up with the server for their network and he’d been trying for hours to figure it out. His own computers were barely speaking to each other, and none of them seemed to want anything to do with the hospital’s computers. What little communication there was between the firm’s laptops was going at a snail’s pace, like they were back in the days of telephone modems. Everyone at the hospital was waiting for the accountants, and all the accountants were waiting for him. It felt like his whole career depended on making this work, and in a major way, it did.
For the sixth time in four hours, Kyle shut down the server. He went around to each of the six laptops and shut them down, then he switched them all back on again. He glanced around the room. Three of the accountants flipped through paper copies of receipts and expense sheets, while the other three stood next to the window talking, every now and then glancing impatiently at Kyle.
Kyle re-installed the main program on the server and then went around to the laptops, one by one. Five finally connected to the VPN, a wireless network he’d put in place to allow secure interactions between all the machines. Having the computers communicate through a VPN made it so that no one could hack into the system and look over their shoulders, or worse yet, interfere with their investigation. The sixth laptop wouldn’t connect. Kyle dived deeper into its programming and discovered that it was about to shut down the whole network. He hit the control, alt, and delete buttons together to immediately terminate its power so it couldn’t mess things up again.
Triumphantly, Kyle slammed his fist onto the table.
“You okay?” asked Steve, the firm’s CEO.
“You bet. Finally, I’ve isolated the problem. This machine has been terminating the entire network. It’s got some kind of a programming flaw. Why don’t you guys log onto the others and see if you can get started?”
“Great. Come on guys, sign in. Let’s get to work. We’re already five hours behind schedule.” They sat down at the keyboards and with the clicking of keys began their work.
“I’m in, Steve,” one of them said.
“Looking good over here,” another piped up.
“Finally. Okay, I’m there. Pulling up the donor lists now.”
Each of the six had his own portion of the project to accomplish. The sixth man, the one without a computer, spoke up. “I need that computer to work, you know.”
“Kyle, get back to the office as fast as you can and fetch us another one,” Steve ordered. “What’s your assignment, Allen?”
“I’m supposed to go through accounts payable and look for anything.”
“Well, we can’t accomplish the audit without that. Kyle, you’d better get going.”
“On it, Steve. Try not to break it while I’m gone, okay?” he said with a wry grin.
“Get out of here.”
Kyle grabbed his jacket and all but ran for the door. He threw it open and was still looking back at Steve when he nearly ran over someone in his haste. It was none other than P. J. Bandy, standing in front of the receptionist’s desk. He caught her around the waist so she wouldn’t fall, but immediately let go. He had to hurry so he could keep Steve happy. “Oh, hi, Doc,” he blurted out.
Hardly breaking his stride, he rushed out of the admin suite and jogged down the hall to the back stairs. Of all people to run into, literally, he’d nearly killed P. J. Had she noticed that it was him? Of course she had. ‘Oh, hi.’ Was that the best thing he could come up with in the situation? Actually, it was. He hadn’t been blessed with a gifted tongue for spur-of-the-moment conversation. He’d always known he was a lousy debater, so politics wasn’t an option for him.
His dinner with P. J. had been so much fun. She was great to talk to. She was so much more mature than other girls he’d taken out. She was smart and beautiful and interesting. When she asked him about Annie, he’d froze, but then the tender concern in P. J.’s eyes had made him want to share everything with her. And, she’d listened—really listened with a sympathetic understanding. Kyle made a mental note to call her later or maybe the next day and ask for another date, hopefully a real date this time and not just a work break. A tingle ran through him. He was asking out a woman on a second date. His mom would be so proud!
He reached level three and ran out the door to the parking garage. It took half an hour to get to the office because mid-morning traffic was in full swing. He ran past his secretary’s desk and gave her a quick, “Hi, Melanie,” before he trotted to the storage room at the back of the offices to retrieve a spare laptop. Forty minutes later he was back at the hospital, out of breath, but with six accounting detectives now all focused on getting their job done. He hovered over them for a little more than an hour until a brief power surge caused the server to shut itself down, but the laptops kept going. He had no trouble bringing the server back online before any of the accountants knew anything was wrong.
He leaned back in his chair and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a quarter after three. He wondered what P. J. was doing. She was probably up to her elbows inside someone’s chest, saving another life. What a cool job. It made his seem boring. He grinned a little thinking of her copper curls, the lively sparkle in her jade eyes. How she’d tilted her head in concentration when listening to him at the restaurant yesterday, her soft hair spilling farther down her shoulders. She’d felt so small and petite against him as they walked, huddled together, to stave off the cold.
The accountants knocked off for the day a little before five. Kyle and Steve left shortly thereafter. “Big plans for the evening?” Steve asked.
“Nah. I’m taking Mom for a walk to help rehab her heart, but other than that, just a normal boring night.” That is, if you consider calling a certain beautiful doctor and asking for a formal date normal and boring.
7
Kyle walked into his apartment. His mom had supper waiting. It was her famous breaded chicken and parsley potatoes. “Mom, is that on your heart diet?” he teased as he gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Sure is,” she piped out. “I’m not worried about cholesterol in my heart anymore.” She frowned. “I’m still a little concerned with it elsewhere though. That’s why from now on the chicken is baked, not fried.”
“There you go,” he grinned. “I’ll go wash up and be ready in a few minutes.”
“Take your time. The biscuits aren’t quite done yet.”
The thought of his mom’s hot fresh biscuits made his mouth water. He went to his room and threw his briefcase onto the bed. P. J.’s beautiful face flashed through his mind as he grinned. No better time than the present. He dialed her number with his thumb. The call rang twice and then went to her voicemail.
“Hey, Doc. This is Kyle Thornton. Hope your day went well. Listen, I was hoping we could get together again. Are you available to go bowling on Saturday afternoon? I’d like to pick you up around three if that’s okay. Let me know what you think. Oh, and Mom’s doing fine, by the way. She cooked baked chicken and boiled potatoes for supper. Talk to you later.” He clicked off the phone, then whistling, went into his bathroom to wash his hands.
P. J. had just gotten home when her phone rang. Her heart began to pound. It was Kyle! What did he want? She hit the red button on her screen after the second ring and sent it to voicemail.
Her hot anger over Kyle had drained, leaving a muted disappointment in its wake. There could never be anything between them. In the long run, it was better this way. She wouldn’t have to worry about crossing any ethical boundaries if she never got close to them.
She set her purse on the kitchen table and picked up her phone again. Every evening she checked in with her parents. Her mom answered on the first ring. “Hi. No, nothing too exciting today. Just the usual stuff…. Yes, I heard about Aunt Allison’s accident. She’s okay, right?... Oh, it’s totaled?... Well, I’m glad she wasn’t hurt any worse than that. Tell her I said hi…. I’ll be sure and do that. By the way, I got a call from another recruiter today. T
his time she was wanting me to interview in Phoenix…. Sure it is, but I’d be so far from you and Daddy. I don’t know if I’m even interested…. No Mom, Arizona men aren’t any nicer than the ones right here…. Yes, I will….Good night to you too. Give Daddy a kiss for me…. Absolutely. Goodbye.” She hung up the phone and set it on its charger.
After she ate a plate of leftovers, P. J. thumbed through the mail. She picked out a new issue of Annals of Cardiothoracic Surgery and devoured it in under an hour. It was still too early for bed, so she sat down and watched an old Audrey Hepburn movie. Now there was a classy lady. She was about to head upstairs when her phone chirped to remind her that she had a voicemail. That’s right … Kyle. Swallowing, she put the phone on speaker and listened to the message. His baritone voice had a rich, husky lilt that was almost musical. Longing welled inside her. Then, the anger took hold. Bowling? After the way he’d treated her today? Absolutely not! She deleted the call and erased the phone number from her inbox, just in case she was ever tempted to contact him again.
Having done so, she felt a swift ping of vindication. Take that, Kyle Thornton!
Two days later she was in the office again for follow up appointments. She finished her last morning patient visit and walked past the echocardiography room toward her office when she met Mrs. Thornton coming out. “Oh, hi, Dr. Bandy. I just had my echo done. They said your work looks great. It’s ticking like a clock. Thank you again. This is so wonderful.”
P. J. smiled. “Just wait until you get my bill. You may not think it’s so wonderful then. But we won’t take it back. No refunds allowed.”
Mrs. Thornton laughed. “I understand you had dinner with my Kyle. I tell you what, he sure had a good time. I think he’s told me about it four, no five times.”
She rocked back, a single word falling from her mouth. “Really?” Kyle had told his mother about their dinner? Okay, that meant something, didn’t it?
“Really,” Mrs. Thornton repeated. “Why do you look so surprised?”
Heat crept into P. J.’s cheeks. “I didn’t feel like I made that much of an impression.”
“Are you kidding? He won’t stop talking about it.” Her eyes lit with an eager curiosity. “Are y’all going out again anytime soon?”
A thrill rose up in P. J.’s chest. Had she been too hasty in writing him off? “You sound so much like my mother,” P. J. scolded with a laugh. “I don’t know. There’s this thing about dating patients, and I don’t want to get in trouble.”
Mrs. Thornton’s eyes twinkled. “Okay, then I won’t come along.”
P. J. couldn’t help but laugh as she shook her head.
“I hope you will. Kyle really likes you.”
A burst of joy percolated in her chest. He likes me! Her mind kept rolling those three words around as she smiled. “I’ll take that under advisement. You take care.”
“Goodbye.”
P. J. went to her office and closed the door. Sitting in her chair, she glanced out the window, which had a not-so-spectacular view of the back brick wall of the office building across the alley. Kyle won’t stop talking about me to his mother? But when we passed each other, he hardly acknowledged my existence. His face came back to her mind, and not just any face. It was the one with tears running down his nose as he listened to his mother’s heartbeat that morning in CCU, when P. J. had matted hair and pillow lines on her own face. A reminiscent smile curved her lips. Maybe he deserved another chance. She frowned. Wait! What about the ethics of the situation? It would not be good to get involved with a patient’s son. How many times did she have to keep reminding herself of that? How about friendship? Was there any rule against that?
Even as her brain shouted that this was a bad idea, P. J. pulled out her phone and searched for Kyle’s number. Oh wait, she’d deleted it. No problem. She pulled up Mrs. Thornton’s chart on the computer and dialed his number from the next of kin entry. This time his phone went to voicemail. “Hi, Kyle. It’s P. J. Bandy. Sure, I’d love to go bowling tomorrow, if the offer still stands. Pick me up around three.” An impish grin stole over her lips. “Be ready to get beaten. I’m not a good loser.” She clicked the call off and held the phone to her throat, a grin crossing her lips.
Heaven help her, she was sailing into uncharted waters.
It felt … good …
8
“I’ve always hated the way bowling shoes look on me,” P. J. complained.
“No way. You’re really styling in them. Check me out.” Kyle tried his best to imitate a tap-dancing routine, but he failed miserably. Even so, a giggle rose in P. J.’s throat, making him feel like he’d scored a great victory. When he first picked P. J. up, she’d been a little cool, and there was a funky tension between them. However, as the date wore on, she seemed to be warming up to him. His gaze traveled over P. J.’s green sweater and jeans, noting how the outfit accentuated her slim curves. She was part pixie, part awe-inspiring doctor, and one hundred percent woman.
They found their alley and threw three frames. True to her word, P. J. was way ahead of him. Kyle got a kick out of watching P. J. bowl. Her chin would jut out, and she would get this mask of concentration. Her ability to be so single-minded was no doubt what made her such an amazing doctor.
“Hey, P. J.!” a voice called out behind them.
They both turned around. A thin woman with brown hair past her shoulders, olive skin, and heavy, almost masculine eyebrows ran up to P. J. and threw her arms around her.
“Angela! What are you doing here?” P. J. asked.
“What does it look like? I’m bowling. Ascott and I just got here.” She looked Kyle up and down with all the interest of a bored teenager looking at a monkey in the zoo, then turned back to P. J. “Let me introduce you. Ascott, this is Priscilla. She’s our top cardiac transplant fellow. P. J., Ascott just flew in from Newport Beach. He’s going to be doing an interventional cardiology fellowship for the next year. Better remember this face. I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of him.” She pinched his cheek before trilling out a high-society giggle.
P. J. cocked her head. “Ascott? Where’d you get that name?”
Ascott slid smoothly between P. J. and Kyle as he aimed a large grin at P. J. “Blame my mother. She liked the sound of it, and it was all history after that.”
Had Ascott really just stepped in between him and P. J.? Kyle looked around at P. J. Fortunately, she didn’t look all that impressed. He caught her eye, and she reached around Ascott to grab Kyle’s hand and pull him forward. “This is Kyle Thornton …” she hesitated, looking uncertain “… my friend,” she stammered.
Kyle was perplexed, and not in a good way. Was P. J. embarrassed for her colleagues to know that they were on a date? Why was she acting so cagey all of a sudden?
“Kyle, this is Angela Rodriguez, our cardiac imaging fellow,” P. J. continued. “You heard her introduce Ascott.”
Ascott reached out his California-tanned hand and pumped Kyle’s. Kyle cringed a little at his pale, computer nerd paw, thinking he was ready for summer to get here so he could get some sun. “How’re you doing, Kyle? Ascott Carson,” he said with gusto, like the name was supposed to mean something to Kyle. It didn’t. “Good to meet you,” Ascott said. “What department are you in?”
“IT. I program computers and maintain networks.”
Ascott leaned forward and put a finger behind his ear. “You what?”
P. J. interrupted. “Kyle works for an accounting firm here in town. He’s in charge of their computers.”
“Oh,” Ascott said. “Well, good for you.” It was hard to tell whether his tone was disappointed or condescending, but he clearly wasn’t impressed. “Is that something you go to college for, or a trade school, or training on the job, or what?”
Kyle felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Ascott’s snobbish behavior was beyond irritating. In Clementine, a man could get decked for less.
P. J. rushed to Kyle’s defense. “He was in his third year of universit
y training when the firm where he works decided he was too good for school and hired him without even waiting for him to graduate.”
Ascott made a face. “No degree then. Well, that’s okay for some people, I suppose.”
“Actually, I did graduate,” Kyle fired back as he threw Ascott a warning look that said pipe down, but Ascott seemed totally oblivious.
“P. J., are you two just getting started?” asked Angela.
“We’re on our third frame. What lane are you using?”
“We’ll just join you. You know, make it a foursome.”
“Great idea, Ang,” Ascott said. He tossed his sports jacket onto a chair. “Kyler, why don’t you add our names to the scoreboard?”
“It’s Kyle,” P. J. said in annoyance.
He waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, sure.” The scoreboard showed it was P. J.’s turn to bowl. While Kyle was typing the letters to put their names up on the overhead display, Ascott lined up and threw a ball down the lane. It rolled right up the middle, a perfect toss, and knocked down all ten pins. He spun around and pumped his fist in the air. “Strike!”
Angela clapped her hands and shrieked in delight. P. J. smiled at him too. Kyle kept his head down and focused on getting their names on the board. He wasn’t too focused to hear Ascott say, “That goes up on your scorecard, Little Red. Score one for us.” What? Wasn’t he on a date with Angela?
Kyle felt heat rising in his chest. Then the little voice in his head chimed in. No need to get angry. This was only his first real date with P. J., and she was old enough to make her own choices. To his dismay, he saw P. J. smiling at the muscular surfer as he strutted over and sat down beside her.
Angela acted like she was oblivious. “My turn.” She picked up a pink ball and rolled it down the lane, knocking over four pins. A moment later she threw again but the ball went into the gutter.
Winning the Doc's Heart Page 5