Teresa Southwick - Expecting The Doctor's Baby

“So Mitch will be representing us at the black-tie fund-raiser for the hospital,” Cal said, interrupting his thoughts.

Mitch heard his name, fund-raiser and black tie—all of which got his attention. “Say again.”

Cal grinned. “We paid twenty-five hundred dollars for the privilege of attending a fund-raising event put on by Mercy Medical Center at Caesar’s Palace. You drew the short straw.”

“Since when?” Mitch demanded.

“For one thing, it’s your punishment for shooting your mouth off too many times,” Jake answered. “And it’s what you get for not paying attention just now.”

That part was all Sam Ryan’s fault, he thought. If he’d come up with a strategy to convince her to work with him, the punishment would have been worth it. All he’d gotten was monkey suit duty.

He’d have to bring up the matter the next time he saw her. And there would be a next time.

“Samantha, you look beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

The approval in her father’s eyes was worth all the trouble and expense. She wanted him to be proud of her, but she was also representing Marshall Management tonight. Projecting an aura of professionalism and confidence required the right dress and she’d blown her budget on this stunner.

The white, one-shouldered, sequined Grecian gown hugged her body in a sophisticated, yet demure way. Silver high-heeled sandals and a small matching clutch bag completed her outfit. After she put highlights in her mousy brown hair, the stylist swept it away from her face and fashioned a bun of curls to the side, behind her ear. Silver eye shadow made her eyes look enormous and subtle body glitter made her exposed skin shimmer.

“You’re pretty awesome yourself,” she said, admiring how handsome and distinguished her father looked in his traditional black tuxedo.

He smiled down at her. “I have to meet some people for a drink. You’ll be all right on your own?”

“Of course.” She nodded. “I have to network, too.”

“I’ll see you later then.”

She watched him disappear into the crowd of people already gathered for cocktails in the reception area outside the room where dinner would be served. Several bars were set up and signs directed guests to a private corner displaying items donated for a silent auction. Sam had contributed three counseling sessions on behalf of Marshall Management.

Darlyn was supposed to be here, too, but was still not feeling well. She’d given Sam a list of contacts to touch base with and directed her to dazzle them with her charm. She wasn’t sure about the charm part, but if she could find a particularly magnificent chandelier and stand under it, dazzling wouldn’t be a problem.

There would be a lot of hospital management types here. Like her father, they were old school and skeptical about the benefits of corporate counseling. Her company had a foot in the door now, an opportunity to prove their services were money well spent. She spotted one of her must-sees. After snagging a glass of white wine from the tray of a circulating waiter, Sam wove her way through the crowd.

“Amanda Jones,” she said. The tall, black-haired woman turned at the sound of her name. She was in her fifties and was the director of a large staff of physical therapists. Sam held out her hand. “Samantha Ryan.”

The woman smiled. “From Marshall Management.”

Sam nodded. “Darlyn wanted me to make it a point to say hello for her.”

“She’s not here?”

“No. Her cold is hanging on and she didn’t want to spread the joy.”

“And we’re all grateful,” Amanda said. “How long have you been with her?”

“About six months. I’m excited for the opportunity to work with Darlyn.”

“She’s very good at what she does. I understand she did some pretty fast talking and convinced the powers that be at Mercy Medical to send problematic employees in for counseling?”

Sam nodded. “I don’t have to tell you how costly it is to train someone, then lose them when they’re finally productive over something that could be avoided with intervention.”

“Finding and retaining qualified personnel can also make a difference for the patients in an ongoing situation,” Amanda agreed.

Sam took a sip of wine. “The hospital’s human resources director was instrumental in securing the contract with Marshall Management.”

And tonight was all about taking the connection out for a spin with the possibility of bringing in future business.

Her job was to put a face with a name and get it out there.

“How’s that working out?” Amanda asked.

“I’ve had several sessions with one of the respiratory therapists who is wonderful with kids, but not so much the adults. She’s very receptive to learning techniques to deal with conflict in a less confrontational manner.”

“I see.”

Sam glanced at the doorway and her heart stuttered when she recognized another high-profile and infamous client weaving his way through the crowd. Mitch Tenney was taller than most, so it wasn’t difficult to spot him. Avoiding him was another issue entirely.

Part of her job was public relations and this was too public for Mitch to miss her unless she ducked behind a marble column and hid for the rest of the night.

“Amanda, it’s been a pleasure talking with you. If you’ll excuse me, there’s someone over there I need to…” She pointed to a place on the opposite side of the room from where Mitch was standing.

“Thanks for the information, Sam. Good to meet you.”

“You, too.” Sam smiled then slid through the crowd of people.

What the heck was he doing here?

But she knew the answer. This was a fund-raiser. The hospital had a mutually beneficial relationship with all the physicians who had privileges there. For all his flaws, her father had a noble goal and had put the pressure on everyone to make this fund-raiser a success. He was determined to build a cancer treatment center at Mercy Medical and dedicate it to the memory of her mother, who had died of the disease. He had loved her very much. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t love her daughter.

Sam made her way to the other side of the room but couldn’t shake the sensation of awareness. She felt like the princess and the pea—she couldn’t see him but she knew he was there.

And then it happened. The crowd parted like the Red Sea and he spotted her. It was too much to hope he would simply wave and walk away. That wasn’t the Tenney technique. He grinned and headed for her like a magnet to true north. His long legs put him in front of her before the static in her brain cleared.

“Sam, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Hello.” Clever comeback, she thought.

“And just like that, an evening I thought would be boring is anything but.”

Based on what the sight of him in a tuxedo was doing to her insides, boring was the last word that came to her mind. The first word would be sex and if all his harnessed intensity was aimed at her, she’d be in his bed, no questions asked.

“So what brings you here?” he asked.

“I’m working, actually. Networking. Darlyn was supposed to be here also, but she’s still under the weather. So I’m on my own representing the firm.” She was babbling and took a sip of wine to stop herself. “How are you, Mitch?”

“Better now.” His gaze boldly checked her out from head to toe. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks.” She decided to mimic his bold appraisal and looked him up and down. “You clean up pretty good yourself. Quite a change from the pajamas.”

He glanced down. “Speaking of monkey suits…It’s your fault I’m here.”

How did she interpret that comment and respond appropriately? He didn’t look annoyed. More like a predator on the prowl.