Gina Wilkins - Surprise Partners

“I’d appreciate it.” They had met at the restaurant after work, so Scott walked Lydia to her car when they finished. “Thanks again, Lydia. You answered a lot of questions for me tonight. And thank you for listening to me whine about my sister, as well.”

Smiling, she quipped, “For a meal I don’t have to cook myself, I’ll gladly talk about DNA and matchmaking sisters anytime.”

He chuckled and opened her car door for her. “Drive carefully on your way home. I’ll be stopping by my office, so I won’t be following you.”

Clucking her tongue in exaggerated disapproval, Lydia shook a finger at him. “You work too hard. You should listen to your sister and let her introduce you to a nice girl.”

Scott laughed and tapped her chin lightly with his knuckles. “With friends like you…”

Looking rather pleased with herself, Lydia climbed into her car. Scott was smiling when he watched her drive away. Interesting woman, he thought.

He was glad they had become friends.

Two days later, Lydia walked slowly into her apartment, her arms loaded with a huge stack of papers she had to read by the next day. It was already past 8:00 p.m., and she hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. Too tired to cook, she had stopped at a drive-through restaurant for a grilled chicken salad and a bread stick; the fast-food bag was balanced precariously on top of her pile of “homework.”

Kicking off her shoes, she deposited her load on the coffee table and decided to change before eating and working. It was going to be a long evening, she thought, moving toward the bedroom. Might as well get comfortable.

The message light blinked on the answering machine connected to her bedroom extension. She pushed the play button, then pulled off her jacket and skirt while the tape rewound.

“Professor McKinley, it’s Connie Redman,” a woman’s voice said from the machine. “I’m calling to remind you of the Women in Science meeting next Tuesday at 7:00 p.m. It should be a really good meeting, so we hope to see you there.”

“I’ll be there, Connie,” Lydia murmured in response to the perky admonition, her own voice muffled by the cotton T-shirt she pulled over her head.

The next message played as she climbed into a pair of comfortably loose drawstring pants. “Lydia, it’s George. I hope you haven’t forgotten that you agreed to fill in for me at the seminar next week. You’ll be speaking from one until three. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Thank you, George,” she said, wrinkling her nose at his vaguely patronizing tone. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

After a pause and a hang-up beep, another voice came through the speaker. “Lyddie?”

Lydia groaned as she bent to pull on thick, fuzzy socks. This voice required no identification.

“You’re still not home?” Larissa’s tone was heavy with disapproval. “It’s after six. Honestly, sis, you have to stop working all the time. The reason I’m calling is that there’s going to be a great Valentine’s Day party next weekend. It’s a dance and silent auction, to raise money for the new neonatal wing at Metro General. I’ve donated a couple of my paintings, so of course I have to be there. And I would love it if you were there, too. I know this great guy, Gary—he’s a new friend of Charlie’s. He’s really sweet. I think you’d like him. Give me a call if you’re interested, okay? Better yet, let’s just assume you are interested. I’ll set everything up and call you back in a little while, okay? It’ll be great.”

“Don’t you dare!” Lydia snapped at the machine as if her sister could hear. “How many times must I tell you I’m not interested in—” The telephone rang before she could finish the exasperated question. Already certain whom she’d hear on the other end, she snatched up the receiver, hunger and weariness fraying her composure. “Larissa, do not set me up for a blind date, do you understand? I won’t go.”

“I don’t blame you,” a man’s voice said in response. “That’s exactly what I said to my sister.”

“Scott?” she said after a momentary hesitation in which she placed the voice.

“Yes. I hope you aren’t disappointed that it isn’t your sister.”

“Not at all. I’m not very happy with my sister just now.”

“Which brings me to the reason I called you—”

“My sister?”

“No. Mine.”

“I don’t understand,” Lydia said, sinking to sit on the side of her bed.

“I just had another frustrating conversation with Heather. I swear this Valentine’s Day fever is warping her mind. She’s determined to set me up with a date for a hospital fund-raiser she and her fiancé are attending next weekend.”

“Is it a dance and silent auction for the new neonatal wing, by any chance?”

“Yes, that’s the one. Are you going?”

“A couple of my sister’s paintings are being auctioned. She wants me to be there—and she just happens to know a great guy to escort me,” she added with a scowl.

“From what you said when you answered the phone, I assume you’re planning to decline?”

Forgetting for the moment that he couldn’t see her, she nodded. “I have no interest in going to a party with a man my sister has chosen for me.”

“And I’m not interested in spending an evening with one of Heather’s overeager friends.”

She thought that problem was easy enough to solve. “So tell her no.”

“I have. She’s determined. She knows I’m sort of committed to attending—I have a lot of friends in the medical community. She’s threatened to tell every unattached woman there that I’m available—and looking for a mate.”

Lydia smiled ruefully. “She really is terrifying, isn’t she?”

“She’s impossible.”

“So why don’t you take a date of your own choice to the event?” she asked simply.

“That’s exactly what I have in mind. How would you like to go to the charity thing with me, Lydia?”

She blinked, certain she must have misunderstood him. “I’m sorry, but did you just ask me to go with you?”

“Yes. It’s the perfect solution. We’re friends who aren’t interested in anything more at the moment. Going together will be pleasant, uncomplicated—and it will get our sisters off our backs.”

It didn’t sound at all like the perfect solution to her. She and Scott were hardly friends—more like friendly acquaintances. They didn’t actually know each other very well. “I don’t know, Scott….”

“Think about it. Is Larissa going to give up without a fight?”

Her mouth twisted. “I’m not actually expecting a fight. But she will argue.”

“And when she doesn’t get her way, will she sigh and pout and make you feel guilty for not appreciating her sincere concern for you?”

Lydia couldn’t help laughing a little at his uncannily accurate prediction. “Something like that.”

“So wouldn’t it be easier to go with me than to argue with her about the blind date she wants to arrange for you?”

“I wasn’t planning to go at all.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m really not very good at parties, Scott. Like most scientists, I’m more comfortable with a laboratory beaker than a champagne glass in my hand.”

“And I’d rather be addressing a jury than making small talk with strangers. But since I have to go anyway, I would enjoy spending the evening with you.”

It wasn’t the most flattering invitation she had ever received—but it was among the most honest. Lydia found that vaguely refreshing. “I’m not a very good dancer,” she warned him.

“We’ll try not to injure each other.”

“And you’ll cover for me if I get all awkward and tongue-tied in front of your friends?”