Winning the Doc's Heart

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Winning the Doc's Heart Page 6

by Jennifer Youngblood


  “Excuse me folks,” a voice came from behind them. It was the youth from the cashier counter. His uniform shirt with its vertical red and white stripes and his blue bow tie made him look like a clown. “Sorry, but a new arrival can’t join a game already in progress. It messes up our scoring system.”

  “Oh, it’s okay, kid,” Ascott interrupted. “We’ve got this under control.”

  “No, really, it’s against the rules. You and you, I assigned you to lane nine. You’ll have to go over there and play.”

  “No, really,” Ascott insisted, “it’s okay.” Kyle watched Ascott pull a twenty-dollar-bill from his pocket. He palmed it and shook the teen’s hand. “You can let us do this.”

  The cashier looked at the money in his hand. He paused for a second, then turned and walked away without another word. Ascott beamed triumphantly at Kyle. “See? A small bribe always convinces the small-minded. P. J., I believe it’s your turn.”

  P. J. stepped up and threw a spare. Kyle knocked down eight. It was Ascott’s turn again. His ball sped down the lane at twice the speed Kyle’s had done and again he scored a strike. He glanced up at the scoreboard. “No points. Oh, dear,” he said in mock disappointment.

  Angela stepped to the line. Ascott sidled up next to her. “Wait, wait, let me show you.” He put both hands on her hips and positioned her two yards back from the line. “See the arrows right there? Aim for the one just to the right of the middle.” He put his right hand under hers as she held the ball and pulled her arm back. “Put it straight behind you. Don’t swing it around behind your tush. Keep it lined up straight with the way you want it to go.” When he had her posed the way he wanted her, he took a step away. “Now let’s see what you can do.”

  She swung her arm forward. The ball wobbled a little as it rolled down the alley and took out six pins. She spun around beaming. “Not bad for a beginner,” Ascott said. “Now let’s see you do that again.” She rolled another but didn’t knock down anymore. He turned and beckoned to P. J. “Step up here, Little Red.”

  “Coming,” she chirped, and picked up a marbled green ball from the return.

  She stepped to where Angela had been. Ascott glided like a boa constrictor up against her, put his right hand under her ball hand, and wrapped his left arm around her waist. Flames again rose, now up to Kyle’s throat. “Remember, straight back, and then straight forward,” Ascott instructed. P. J. let the ball fly, and all the pins fell. “See, what did I tell you?” he bragged.

  P. J. pointed up at the scoreboard. “If you’ll notice, that’s not my first strike today.” Indeed, her first set had been one also.

  “So I see. Okay, Kyle, your turn.” Kyle picked up a fourteen pounder and approached the line. He held the ball up in front of his face and peered over the top of it at the other end of the lane. He heard Ascott behind him.

  “See how he’s holding the ball? You never want to do that, because then you have to swing it around you as you bring it back, and the natural tendency then is to put a sideways arc on it that you don’t want.” Kyle’s anger boiled another inch higher.

  After several torture-filled rounds, the game finally ended. Ascott, as he’d promised, tripled Kyle’s score on ten frames even though he bowled only seven. He beat P. J.’s and Angela’s scores, combined. “Well, that was fun,” he said directly to P. J. and not even glancing at Kyle. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

  “Before we leave, I’m going to visit the little girls’ room,” Angela said. “P. J., you good?”

  “No. I think I’ll join you.” They trotted off toward the lobby.

  Ascott and Kyle said nothing to each other. Kyle took their balls back to the rack and his and P. J.’s shoes up to the front desk. When he returned, Ascott was sprawled in the plastic scoop-back chair, his arm stretched out across a chair and a half next to him. “Now listen, Kale,” he began, “I know she’s really pretty and everything, and she seems like a lot of fun, but you’re way out of your league here. Have fun today, show her a good time, but let that be the extent of it. You don’t stand a chance with her. You need to date on your own social stratum and leave us to ours.”

  Kyle sat stunned. Had Ascott really said that? Which century were they living in? What if P. J. felt the same way? He didn’t know how to answer. It felt like a boulder had dropped on his mind and he was struggling to get out from under it so he could say something.

  Ascott sat back in his chair, a smug look on his face as he watched for the girls to come back from the lobby. He looked like he really believed what had just come out of his mouth. Within a couple of minutes, Angela bounced over and stopped in front of Ascott. “We’re going over to the Salad Bar,” she told P. J. “Want to join us?”

  Kyle gave a strained smile. “Thanks, but we’re going to head out to Liberty Park and have a little picnic.”

  Ascott lifted an eyebrow. “Isn’t it a bit chilly outside for a picnic?”

  P. J. jumped in before Kyle could. “Nah. We’ll be fine.”

  Ascott shrugged. “Sounds good. Where should we meet you?”

  “Maybe next time,” P. J. responded. “We only brought a little snack. Ascott, have you been to the Salad Bar yet? Angela and I love that place. Go ahead, take her there. You’ll be impressed. Be sure and try the raspberry vinaigrette. It’s my favorite.”

  Ascott glanced at Kyle, and looked him up and down once again, his disapproving eyes shouting that Kyle had been weighed and measured—failing to make the cut. Man, this guy rubbed him wrong! Kyle looked Ascott in the eye, giving him a stare-down, but Ascott only smirked. “See you around, P. J. You’re an incredibly nice person to go out once with someone like him. I’m sure that eventually you’ll find someone who’s worthy of you.” P. J. acted as if she didn’t hear him. Maybe that was the case since she was focused on her conversation with Angela, but Kyle heard the weasel, loud and clear.

  His muscles pulled taut. “Do you wanna take this outside?”

  Ascott blinked in surprise, and Kyle thought he caught a blip of fear. “Nah, man. We’re good,” Ascott said with an easy laugh. “It was a joke.”

  Kyle’s response was immediate. “Yeah, well I didn’t find it amusing.” He stared at Ascott until the man looked away. Kyle might be a computer nerd, but he’d grown up in a town where he’d learned to stand up for himself pretty quick. The only way to confront a bully was head-on.

  As he drove toward the park, Kyle said nothing at first. P. J. spoke up. “Are you okay?”

  Kyle was still smarting over the Ascott thing. What if P. J. felt that way too? Was she just on a pity date with a second-class citizen, doing her socialite charity work for the week? He took a breath before he answered. “I couldn’t believe that guy. Was he on a date with Angela? He was all over you.”

  She laughed in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know, the way he flirted and chatted it up with you. Angela was practically left out of the conversation. He even put his arm around you a couple of times and did whatever he could to push me to the sidelines. Didn’t you notice?”

  “Well, no. I thought he was just being friendly.”

  “Friendly? I would’ve thought you two were going steady,” he mumbled. Kyle should’ve just clocked the conceited know-it-all and gotten it out of his system.

  P. J. angled to face him. “Kyle, are you jealous?” Amusement coated her voice.

  His gut tightened. Was P. J. playing him? He’d been out of the dating scene far too long to know the inner workings of the opposite sex. He had no use for petty games. “No,” he huffed, “not in the slightest.”

  “That’s good to know,” she snipped as she clamped her arms over her chest. He glanced at her profile. Her chin was set in a hard line as she stared straight ahead.

  Kyle searched for something to say to diffuse this situation. “Do you want me to be jealous?” he finally asked.

  Her voice took on a sassy, sarcastic note. “Well, I don’t know, Kyle. One minute, I thi
nk things are going great between us, and the next, you plow me over in the hospital, hardly saying a word. So, I’m not sure what to think.”

  He tightened his hold on the steering wheel as he pulled his eyes off the road long enough to give her an incredulous look. “What’re you talking about?”

  “The other day I stopped by to say hello and then you burst out the door of the conference room and nearly ran me over. It was like I was a piece of furniture that you had to push out of your way.”

  His eyes rounded as he rewound his brain. “Oh, wow. I didn’t even think …” He shook his head. “The other day … I was in the middle of a crisis. I couldn’t get the computers online. The accountants were all waiting. I finally got the problem solved and then had to run to the office to grab an extra laptop for one of the accountants. That’s where I was headed when I ran into you. I didn’t even think about how that came across. I’m sorry.” He glanced at her and could tell that she was processing every word.

  An embarrassed laugh hiccuped from her throat. “Actually, I’m the one who’s sorry. How’s that for overreacting?”

  “I guess we’re both guilty.” He gave her a sheepish grin. It was cute how her cheeks had gone cherry red.

  She smiled, the tension between them dissolving. “Look, Kyle, I’m on a date with you, not Ascott.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said in a bragging tone, which caused her to laugh. P. J. had introduced him as a friend earlier. He was glad to be elevated to the status of a date.

  Her voice lifted. “Let’s just forget about Ascott and have a good time, shall we?”

  “Absolutely. You’re right,” he sighed. Shame on him for even bringing Ascott up. The guy would like nothing more than to drive a wedge between Kyle and P. J.

  “The first thing you have to know is that some of these doctor types, they just get stuck on themselves and think every woman is going to go all doe-eyed for them. Ascott’s not my type of guy.”

  Okay, so maybe she wasn’t of a superior-to-you mindset. Who is your type of guy? Kyle wanted to ask.

  They pulled into the parking lot near the picnic area and spread out their tablecloth on a table not far from the car. The late afternoon sunshine brightened their mood, casting a comfortable glow of warmth. “So, what did you want to be when you grew up?” P. J. asked.

  “To tell the truth, I wanted to be a surgeon.”

  The shock in P. J.’s jade eyes was priceless. “You’re pulling my leg.” She opened the picnic basket and began arranging sandwich fixings and drinks while he set out paper plates and plastic utensils.

  He grinned. “No, I thought it would be really cool to be up to my elbows inside someone’s belly. Then in fifth grade, our teacher dissected a fetal pig in front of us, and I knew right away surgery wasn’t for me.” Her eyes sparkled with such light, like they were capturing flecks of the sun. That was a gift P. J. had, to be able to be so in tune, so attentive. It made Kyle feel important to have such a captive audience. “So I decided to be an astronaut instead.” He grimaced. “My parents took me on a flight to New York for a weekend and I realized I didn’t like being up in the air.”

  She crinkled her nose, giggling. “You had quite the track record.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am. I certainly did. My dad suggested that I might like computers after that.” He reached out a hand to steady her as she lifted a leg high to step over the seat of their picnic table, and then he sat down next to her. She put together their sliced turkey sandwiches and handed him one.

  “Your father sounds really wise.” She paused. “Do you miss him?”

  “Every day.” He paused, swallowing the emotion that surfaced, not just because of his dad but also because of Annie. “I like to think he’s looking down on me, and I hope he’s proud of me.”

  P. J. put a hand over his. He marveled at the zing of electricity her touch elicited. Her hand looked so petite and small on his. He couldn’t help but think how those hands had been instrumental in healing so many people, including his beloved mother. The touch of a healing hand.

  “I’m sure he is.” She picked up her napkin and wiped a bit of mustard from the corner of his mouth. “Sorry. Neat freak here.”

  Her gesture was so casual, yet intimate, causing warmth to spread through him. He sucked in a breath, quickly recovering. “What about you? What was your life dream?”

  “Believe it or not, I wanted to be a piano teacher. I had a really amazing one when I was little. Then, unfortunately, she left the profession and moved away. I don’t know what ever happened to her.”

  Kyle liked how comfortable P. J. was in her own skin. She talked with her hands, radiating a curious mixture of vitality and a quiet confidence. P. J. was the type of person who drew others to her without even realizing. He traced the well-modeled lines of her even features, noting the faint dusting of freckles across her milky skin. Her nose had a slight tilt on the end, giving her a girlish quality. Her cheeks were brushed with a dusty rose hue, as if an artist had added the finishing touch to a masterpiece. Her softly curved lips looked like they might taste of strawberry or raspberry. Her curls bounced happily on her shoulders with her every movement.

  “In high school I was on the yearbook staff and played around with the idea of becoming a photographer. I had this one teacher who told me I had a real head for science and I should think about going to college and becoming a doctor. That sounded pretty good, so I did, and eight years later, what do you know, I was a doctor. Then I did four years of thoracic surgery residency, two years of cardiac surgery fellowship, and now a year of transplant surgery. I guess it’s too late to turn back now, right?”

  It was refreshing to see someone who was so passionate about their work. He nodded. “I have to admit, you’re pretty intimidating. First you beat me in bowling, and now you’re way more educated than I really care to be.”

  P. J. slid over closer to him. “Don’t let it intimidate you.” She rested her head on his deltoid. “At least not the schooling thing. The bowling, maybe. Be intimidated by that.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll have to brush up on my skills before challenging you to a rematch.” He liked how well he and P. J. fit together. Her closeness was intoxicating and comfortable at the same time.

  A chilly breeze blew up behind them. Goosebumps sprang up on his arms. The park’s lights came on as the sunlight faded. “Can we go?” she asked. “It’s getting pretty cold. I wish I was somewhere on a beach.”

  “Like that Fiji poster we saw?”

  “Exactly like that. Until then, I think I’ll go home and curl up under a blanket in my big armchair and read a book. What are you going to do for the rest of the evening?”

  “I’d better get home and make sure Mom’s behaving herself. She can be quite a nuisance around the apartment, you know.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  He stood up and gathered their paper plates into the center of the disposable tablecloth so he could roll it into a ball. “No, really. I’ll leave my socks out where I want them, and next thing I know, they’re missing. They always end up in the laundry or something. And the other night I set a frozen pizza on the counter when I went to bed so it would be there in the morning for breakfast, and when I got up, it was nowhere to be found. I searched and searched and searched and finally discovered it in the fridge, of all places. At least she didn’t warm it up. Warm pizza for breakfast? Ugh.” He faked a shudder.

  “Breakfast of champions, huh? Your mom probably didn’t want you to get sick from having pizza thawing at room temperature overnight.” P. J. punched him on the shoulder. “She sounds like an angel. I guess she’ll be heading home soon?”

  “Yeah. About another week or ten days. Her friends from Clementine keep calling and asking when she’ll be back. I think I’ll drive her down over Easter weekend.”

  They walked back to the car. He rocked back on his heels, held up the tablecloth like a basketball, and with a graceful arc tossed it into a trash can. �
�I can beat you in bowling, but I can’t do that,” P. J. quipped.

  He drove her back to her townhouse. They stood on the porch for a moment. “Thanks for a great afternoon. It was fun,” she said.

  “Yeah. Let’s do it again sometime soon.” He searched her beautiful face, wondering if he should just bite the bullet and kiss her tempting lips. He wanted to badly, but would that seem too pushy? He’d not kissed another woman since Annie. Was he ready? His heart began to pound.

  “Okay. Maybe we can take your mother out for dinner one night before she goes home.”

  “Great idea. How does Wednesday sound?” He wanted to establish another date now for them to see each other again.

  A smile tipped her lips. “Sounds really good. See you then.” Time slowed as they gazed into one another’s eyes. Just as he’d about worked up the courage to make a move, she stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek before she went inside.

  Next time, he promised himself as he turned and headed back to his car.

  9

  Monday morning, Kyle was back at the hospital. The small network he’d set up for the audit worked just fine. He got there early, powered up everyone’s laptops and the server, and made sure they were all connected. The first auditors from his firm arrived just after seven and signed in. By nine everyone was there and online. “Looks like we won’t be needing you today, Kyle. Why don’t you head back to the office and we’ll give you a shout if anything comes up?”

  “Sounds good.” He walked out through the admin lobby, whistling softly, satisfied with his work laying the foundation for their probe of the hospital’s finances. On the way to the parking garage, he passed the sign on the wall that identified a long hallway as the cardiology department.

  He was about to walk down and see if P. J. was in her office when a small crowd of half a dozen people came out of a doorway. A woman led the group. She gestured to the opposite end of the hall. Kyle recognized the back of one man’s head. It had a perfect coif of chestnut hair, just the right amount of wave to it. On the back of his neck the skin was perfectly tanned. The square shoulders that outlined the frame of his body, a little under six feet tall, confirmed who he was looking at.

 

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