The Doctor's Accidental Family. Jacqueline Diamond

fetch a can of olives.

      As she’d anticipated, footsteps tromped into the kitchen. “Why shouldn’t I have invited him?” That might be Jack Ryder’s voice, Zady thought, and wondered who he was discussing. “It’s Rod’s wedding reception, and he doesn’t care.”

      Care about what? She nearly asked the question aloud. Maybe she should reveal her presence before the conversation went any further.

      However, a woman had begun speaking. “This gathering isn’t just for Rod and Karen.” That must be Jack’s wife, Anya. A bubbly surgical nurse, she had once shared an apartment with Zora. “It’s also Zora and Zady’s birthday party.”

      What does this have to do with us? Despite the rudeness of listening from the pantry, curiosity held Zora in place.

      “Fortunately, it’s a big house and people can socialize with whomever they like,” Jack retorted cheerfully. “Now, where’s that dip?”

      “I’m guessing in the refrigerator.” The heavy door opened. “Here it is, just like Karen said. Now, I still don’t understand why you invited—”

      “So we can get better acquainted.” Jack sighed. “Okay, truth is, I suggested he join our committee. We need someone who won’t be afraid to stand up to Marshall.”

      What committee and how did this involve Marshall? Zady owed it to her doctor to discover what might be afoot. And her curiosity was growing by the minute.

      “The sooner you present your case to the administration, the less chance of this whole business turning into some ridiculous feud,” Anya continued.

      “If Marshall weren’t so greedy about office space, we wouldn’t have to fight him on it,” Jack grumbled. “Reserving two entire floors for urologists!”

      Now Zady understood the issue. But the dental building had been acquired specifically to expand the men’s program. Aside from the fact that he was currently forced to share a suite with several other doctors, Marshall had every right to insist that the Porvamm be used as intended. She wouldn’t hesitate to tell Jack that, either, except that a nurse, especially a new one, would be unwise to wade into doctors’ politics.

      In her self-absorption, Zady had almost forgotten the infant in her arms. With timing that bordered on sabotage, Orlando let out a squawk.

      “Hey! Is someone in the pantry?” Male footsteps approached.

      Elbowing open the door, which she’d left slightly ajar, Zady emerged. “I was in here fetching, um...” What had she planned to use as an alibi? Her brain refused to cooperate.

      Anya paused in removing plastic wrap from a bowl of onion dip, her face a study in confusion. Her tall, handsome husband showed no such uncertainty. “You were spying!”

      Zady’s mother had always said that the best defense was a good offense. “I needed a moment alone, that’s all. How should I know you guys would barrel in here and start discussing state secrets?”

      Jack scowled but cast a guilty glance toward the dining room, from which drifted the hum of conversation. “I suppose I shouldn’t have brought it up with people around, but I never imagined Marshall’s nurse would be lurking with big ears.”

      “What if Lucky had heard?” Zady retorted. “He works with Cole, and I’m sure they don’t keep secrets from each other. Or from Dr. Davis.”

      “She’s right,” Anya chimed in.

      Thank you. Zady decided she shared her sister’s high opinion of Anya.

      “Will you rat on us when he gets here?” Jack demanded.

      “Marshall’s coming today?” Zady hadn’t expected to run into her boss.

      “I assume so. Surely Lucky invited him.” Zora’s husband, who’d recently earned a master’s degree in nursing administration, was helping Dr. Rattigan and Dr. Davis coordinate the growth of the men’s program. “You shouldn’t blab everything to him.”

      “How would you like it if your nurse kept you in the dark?” she asked.

      “He’d hate it.” Anya caught her husband’s wrist. “Why don’t we end this discussion before the whole world gets involved?”

      “They soon will be anyway,” Jack muttered.

      Great. Zady would rather not make enemies, she reflected as the couple exited with the dip. Perhaps she should ask Zora’s opinion before informing Marshall. But how unfair to lay that burden on her twin.

      Also, Zady had vowed to forge her own path, and this struck her as the kind of tough choice she shouldn’t shrink from. Loyalty to Marshall mattered. Too bad it stood between her and his cousin, whom she’d run into twice this week, at the supermarket and in the laundry room.

      Each time, her traitorous brain had reacted with a snap of admiration for his tousled good looks. It would be a relief when he or she, or both, found a better place to live.

      Orlando, who’d been fussing softly, quit beating around the bush and let out a wail. Instantly, nursing supervisor Betsy Raditch appeared. “I’ll take him,” she volunteered, holding out her arms.

      Since grandmotherly Betsy doted on babies, Zady relinquished her nephew without a qualm. “Thank you.”

      “My pleasure.” Beaming, the older woman carried off her tiny charge.

      In breezed Tiffany and Amber to refill their trays from an array of hors d’oeuvres on the table. With Orlando gone, Zady wished for a task to focus on, but the girls already had the serving job covered.

      As if on cue—or perhaps due to the often-rumored psychic link between twins, which had never been much in evidence until now—Zora popped in. “Let’s open presents!”

      “I love watching people open presents,” Amber enthused. The deaths of her mother and stepfather in a car crash last fall had left a mark, but she and her sister were adapting well to sharing a home with their father and his new wife.

      “Your parents should go first.” Zora assumed the pile of wrapped packages in the living room was mostly for the newlyweds.

      “Oh, they requested no more gifts. They already received a ton of stuff.” A grin lit Zora’s face. As usual these days, she radiated happiness. “Enjoy, sis! Those are for us.”

      “Those are for us?” Zady asked simultaneously, unintentionally matching her twin’s phrasing.

      “You guys are cute.” Tiffany gazed from Zady to Zora. “You’re like reflections in a mirror.”

      “I’m chubbier these days,” Zora said cheerily. “Breastfeeding and all.”

      “And you have more freckles,” Zady teased. That had been the subject of arguments between them during their teen years.

      “She smiles more, too,” Amber noted.

      “She deserves to.” Zady draped an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Okay, let’s—” She flinched as the doorbell rang.

      That must be Marshall. With an unpleasant jolt, she realized that telling him about the plot might spoil everyone’s mood. Best to get it over with quickly, like ripping off an adhesive bandage. “I’ll answer that.”

      “Why you?” Zora inquired.

      “Because I’m faster,” she retorted, and took off for the front of the house.

      No one else had responded, probably because the front door stood partly open and most guests just walked in. But Marshall had a more formal personality. No wonder he remained on the porch, an appealing figure with his dark, brooding air.

      Zady stopped short. She’d done it again. This wasn’t Marshall, it was Nick.

      What was he doing here? And why did she experience a rush of warmth when