Starting with a Kiss. Barbara McMahon

she noticed his bold handwriting, the easy-to-read note reminding her of his reputation for saying what he meant and never mind whose toes he stepped on—no emotions, no wasted energy.

      She frowned and picked up her pen, scrawling back: “Can’t, I have appointments.”

      Two minutes later the paper was returned: “When, then?”

      She had a vague idea of cornering Dr. Taylor after the meeting and arguing against the assignment, but upon reflection, that might appear less than professional. And she could use the experience—if only it wasn’t with Dr. Hastings!

      She dashed off the numeral four and slid the paper to her left. Her attention on the exchange of notes, she’d lost the trend of the discussion.

      When the chief of staff called on Greg for an update on the conference, Abby tried her best to focus on what he was saying. After all, she’d have to come up to speed quickly.

      But she found herself studying his hands as he held his papers, listening to the intonation and cadence of his voice as his richly masculine tones filled the room, cool and self-assured. He always was in control. Too controlled? she wondered. Did he ever let go? Maybe with close friends.

      A close woman friend?

      Frowning, she jerked her thoughts back to the presentation. She wasn’t going down that road. Whatever Greg Hastings did in his spare time was his business, not hers!

      “Which brings us up to the ball on Saturday the twentieth. We have several civic organizations pledging support, so we should realize the goal we set.” Greg slanted a glance at Abby. “My new co-chair and I can check out the ballroom this week and make sure everything is on track. I trust Steve’s judgment, but this was one area I’ve neglected. With him gone, I’ll bring us both up to speed on that aspect.”

      The ball! A major fund-raiser for the hospital, the annual charity event drew corporate sponsors and individuals alike. Held at the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco, it was lavish and elegant. Or so she’d heard. It would be the first one she had attended.

      Abby looked warily at the chief of staff. That was one event she’d make sure she had a date for even if she had to hire somebody off the street!

      “Good job, Greg. Any other items we need to address?” Dr. Taylor asked the staff.

      Not hearing any, the meeting was adjourned.

      “Susan, can I speak with you?” Abby jumped up before she could be cornered by Greg Hastings and, gathering her notes, hastened to join her friend.

      “So,” Susan said, glancing over her shoulder.

      “You and Greg. Is this a trend? You two went to that banquet last week, now co-chairs? Hmm, anything you want to share with a friend?”

      “Yes, I wish I didn’t have this assignment. And didn’t you hear, last week was a duty escort arranged by Dr. Taylor.”

      “Not according to the rampant rumors going around. Apparently there’s a nurse on the surgical wing who is very miffed.”

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Doesn’t anyone have anything better to do than gossip?”

      “About our sexy Dr. Hastings? I doubt it.”

      “Oh, well, if it’s just about him—”

      “Not exactly.”

      Abby waited until the hallway was almost deserted, then dared to ask, “Not exactly?”

      “There was some speculation as to the way you were dressed.”

      Abby groaned with embarrassment. “I knew it, it was too much, wasn’t it.”

      “Certainly not your style,” her friend said gently.

      “My neighbor helped. She’s a bit more flamboyant than I am.”

      “I thought you looked fantastic.”

      “Well, some parties thought I looked like a tart.”

      “Greg?”

      She shrugged. “If he did, he was polite enough to refrain from saying so.”

      “Who?”

      “Just a friend who obviously felt no such restraints.”

      “And the purpose of that dress?”

      Abby glanced around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “I was trying to make someone take notice.”

      “Honey, I think the entire male population of the hospital took notice. Super doctor by day, femme fatale by night!”

      Abby scowled. “Not my intent.”

      Susan studied her for a moment. “There’s a happy medium—you just need some pointers.”

      “Are you volunteering?” Abby asked, diverted temporarily by the idea. She had been over the top last week. And it hadn’t done a speck of good. Jeb had not found her attractive—just the opposite.

      “No, but I know someone who would be perfect.” The teasing look in her eyes made Abby wary.

      “Right—in my spare time. But in the meantime, I didn’t stop you to discuss my social life. I wanted to ask you about that procedure you were talking about a few weeks ago. I have a kid who is not responding to normal treatment.”

      Thankfully, their conversation turned to medicine and Abby was able to put aside the memory of that embarrassing night.

      Until she showed up at Dr. Hastings’s office that afternoon just prior to four. She made sure she was not late. His door was ajar, the secretary’s desk empty.

      Should she wait, or just go in? Taking a step closer, she heard voices. Someone was in with Greg. She’d wait.

      “Shall I leave the door open when your four-o’clock appointment arrives?” The voice came from Greg’s secretary, Rose. Abby had met her once before.

      “Why?” The sound of papers being shuffled drifted outside the door.

      “Your reputation, of course,” Rose said with asperity. “After the way Dr. Trent was dressed when you took her to the banquet, you have to know she’s trying to vamp you.”

      “Vamp me? Where do you come up with these terms, Rose?”

      Abby’s cheeks began to burn again. Did the entire hospital think she had been trying to make a play for Dr. Hastings?

      “I’m into retro. Anyway, I’m looking out for you.”

      “Yeah, the man most likely to sweep a woman off her feet.”

      “One look at your killer smile and every woman in sight will swoon.”

      He laughed.

      Abby stepped closer, charmed by the rich tone of Greg’s laughter. If only she didn’t feel she was the butt of the joke. Damn, why had she let Kim talk her into all that makeup and that dress?

      “Rose, you’re priceless. When Dr. Trent arrives, show her in, and then shut the door.”

      “What was that about last week?”

      “Darn if I know. I expected a quiet, mousy physician to open her door, so I was as surprised as anyone else at the way she looked.”

      There were several seconds of silence. Mousy? Was that how he saw her? Did everyone see her that way? Abby turned to tiptoe away when Rose spoke again, her voice pensive.

      “You know, maybe she’s looking to change her image. You could help.”

      “Me?” Greg laughed again. “I don’t think so, Rose.”

      “Think about it, Pam could get her some clothes that suited her personality. Elise could give her pointers on walking and looking sexy, and how to apply makeup for an understated look. I’m serious, Greg.”