“Not bad. Maybe you should join us one of these mornings. Dr. Albert and I usually play with a couple of thoracic surgeons from two floors down.”
“That would be great,” she said, her voice a little high. “Let me know.”
Okay. She’d met her objective. Made actual interface with Luke, and so far, hadn’t done anything to embarrass herself.
Time to make a graceful exit.
“Guess I’d better go. Don’t want to leave the patients waiting.” She turned, narrowly missing the chair that she’d forgotten about.
Outside in the hallway, she wanted to leap up into the air, do a jig, something to celebrate the moment.
She’d made contact.
And was still pretty much intact.
…
The rest of Benny’s day after her chat with Luke had gone remarkably well; she’d managed not only to avoid colliding with any nonmoving objects the next time she caught him in the hall, but she’d also made eye contact with him for several seconds before ducking into the examining room. Progress.
So she’d thought nothing was going to sour what was left of the day when she pulled into her open parking spot, ready to dive into the bag of Thai food she’d picked up to celebrate her win. And with four minutes to spare, she might even catch the opening of Suits. Hoisting the bag into her arms, she pushed the car door shut with her hip and headed to the elevator. The faint dinging of the elevator told her that if she hoofed it she could make it and not have to wait the decade it usually took for it to return. She rounded the corner just as a stunning, leggy brunette stepped inside.
“Hold the door,” Benny called out, relieved she’d made it in time.
Only the woman—who Benny was absolutely certain had not only heard her, but seen her as well—stepped farther back into the elevator. Not even pretending to hold it for her.
Hurrying, Benny surged forward, determined to make it onto that elevator, her hand in front of her to push that call button before it could leave without her.
The doors sealed a second before she pressed it.
The woman had completely ignored her.
A second later, the bottom of the takeout bag, not reinforced for running, gave out and her container of red curry exploded on her feet. “Mother of—”
Muttering a string of curses at the woman Benny blamed for her predicament, she leaned down and grabbed the pile of napkins that had fallen along with her food and wiped the tops of her new shoes off.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Benny looked up from her squatting position to see Henry staring down at her, amusement in his eyes.
Figured.
…
Henry had heard the woman talking to herself in Spanish before he turned the corner, and from the frustration in her tone, he sensed her ramblings weren’t PG rated. He’d watched her probably a minute too long before he’d made himself known, his attention riveted to the opening at the front of her shirt as she tried to wipe the soupy mess from her feet.
She didn’t bother to respond to his quip as he leaned down and took the empty Styrofoam bowl and lid and tossed it into the garbage as she grabbed the only two containers still intact.
“Thanks,” she said, and straightened up.
It was hard to miss the anger shining in her bright eyes, or the flush on her face, and for a first, he hadn’t been the one to cause it. “Bad day at work? Did things between you and the good doctor not go according to plan?”
She blew at the strand of hair that had fallen across her face, but with her hands filled, she couldn’t wipe it away. Other than fleetingly blowing it off her face, it returned, and settled across her lips.
“Here.” He moved his hand and tucked the hair back, touching her cheek just for a moment. She sucked in her breath and glared at him.
The contact was simple, but he couldn’t deny the fact that standing so near the woman didn’t have some appeal. She smelled like vanilla. And curry.
“I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad,” he tried again.