“I will not think about it. Thanks for the suggestions, Rose, but Dr. Trent is well able to look after herself.”
“Hmm, I wonder.”
Abby spun around and headed for the hall. She’d rather be thought tardy than be caught eavesdropping—especially when she’d been the topic under discussion. Heat scorched her cheeks. She wanted to dash away and never face the man again. Or his cheeky secretary.
She reached the water fountain and stopped for a drink, hoping the color that had flooded her cheeks would fade. This was worse than she’d expected. She thought she and Greg would just briefly touch base. He’d hand her a file of the committee information and she could escape. Now she’d be wondering what he was thinking the entire time.
She cleared her throat as she drew near the secretary’s desk. Rose was just coming from Greg’s office. Young and stylish, she was well thought of throughout the hospital, fiercely loyal to her boss, and the hospital in general.
“Hi, Dr. Trent. You’re right on time,” she said, smiling brightly.
Abby nodded, avoiding Rose’s eyes. “Is Dr. Hastings ready?”
Greg appeared in the doorway, almost filling the space. Abby swallowed and tried to ignore the familiar fluttering in her stomach. Tried not to dwell on the conversation she’d overheard.
“Since we’ll be working closely on the conference, don’t you think you should call me Greg?” he said easily, leaning casually against the doorjamb and crossing his arms over his chest as he assessed her.
He’d noticed, had he, that she’d never been able to call him by his first name? Had anyone else noticed?
As she drew closer and he didn’t budge, she wondered if he would move to allow her through the door?
He did, at the last second, his eyes dancing in taunting amusement.
She stepped inside his office, her defenses on the ready. She was not some woman to be swept away by his killer smile, or anything else. She was here under protest, and would do only what she had to in order to pull her weight on the committee.
Deliberately Greg shut the door.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to one of the visitor chairs then took his seat behind his desk. Seconds later he began to fill her in on all the steps taken in preparation for the conference. Rose was handling many of the details and follow-up work. The schedule had been settled, speakers committed, programs drafted for the printers.
Several minutes later he looked up. “That leaves the ball. Steve was working on that, and I expect you can take over from where he left. The orchestra has been booked, the menu finalized, former donors contacted. There will be only the routine tasks left now. If you could supervise this aspect, it would help. Let me or Rose know if you need anything.”
Abby nodded, wondering if she could leave now. She’d make sure she managed everything without ever bothering Greg or his outspoken secretary.
He slid the folder to her. “This pretty much recaps everything.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “Will you be needing an escort to the ball?” he asked.
“No,” she said, gathering the folder and standing. Was she never going to live that down?
“Just checking. It would be easier to know early rather than the day of the event.”
“It wasn’t my idea last time. I assure you, I’ll find someone to take me to the ball. And if I don’t, Dr. Taylor will never learn it from me!”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “You’ll find someone? No steady man in your life?”
“Not that it’s any business of yours, Dr. Hastings, but no there’s not.” She clutched the folder to her chest and edged toward the door.
“Greg,” he said, standing.
She nodded abruptly. “If that’s all, I do have other things to do.”
“That’s all for now. Review the information and let me know if you have any questions. Are you free tomorrow at two?”
“Tomorrow? Why?”
“So we can check out the ballroom at the hotel. If that time’s not good, let Rose know when you can go. I’ll drive.”
“I don’t have my calendar with me, but I expect it won’t be convenient. I see patients all day long, you know.”
He nodded. “I have a gall bladder first thing tomorrow, but then am free. If you’re not, we’ll make it later. Say seven?”
Abby wanted to protest, but she didn’t have an alternative time that would be convenient. Never seeing him again would be convenient, but wasn’t going to happen.
“Fine. Seven, tomorrow.” Turning, she almost fled from his office.
Rose looked up in surprise. “Finished already?”
Abby nodded and kept walking. She had more than twenty-four hours to get herself under control before seeing him again. She’d be the epitome of professionalism.
Given time, there’d be other tidbits to capture the attention of the hospital gossips. Her one foray into life on the wild side would fade.
And she’d learned her lesson. She couldn’t compete with Sara. Jeb was gone. She had to accept it. And truth to tell, even if overnight she became some beautiful sex symbol, she didn’t want a man who would turn away at the first sight of a new face.
What did Greg Hastings look for? she wondered.
When Greg rang Abby’s doorbell the next evening, he felt a slight rise of anticipation. So far he couldn’t quite call their encounters productive. She always seemed poised to take off at any second—her leaving him in front of the restaurant last week a case in point. Yet he was almost looking forward to their get-together this evening. For a little while, at least, she’d have to give him some attention. Maybe he could better understand the woman.
She opened the door. For a split second he was disappointed she hadn’t done her hair up as if she’d just tumbled out of bed. And that she wasn’t wearing a dress that displayed every inch of her body like a man’s fantasy. She wore the expected tailored suit, her hair pulled back in a low ponytail. And she was not wearing any makeup. From one extreme to another.
“Good evening, I’m ready.” She stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut, checking the lock.
“Despite the rumors, I don’t believe you are trying to seduce me,” he murmured.
“What?” She looked up, startled.
At least that got a reaction. “Seduction needs more privacy than your hall.” He turned toward the elevator. “I’ll have to reassure Rose that we have a strictly business relationship.”
“I don’t feel we have any kind of relationship at all, Dr. Hastings.” Abby fell into step beside him. “I certainly didn’t ask Dr. Taylor to press you into service last week. And I could check out the hotel ballroom on my own this evening. You don’t have to accompany me.”
“But it’s so much easier if we check it out together.” Greg said smoothly. “If you don’t call me by my name from now on, Abigail, I’ll have to take drastic measures!”
“Such as?” She punched the down call button for the elevator with more force than he thought necessary.
“I don’t know,” he teased, suddenly enjoying himself for the first time in a long while. As the elevator doors slid open, they stepped inside. An older couple already was in the car.
“Maybe kiss you,” he said outrageously just to get another rise from her.
She glared at him. Silence reigned.