âAll right. Fine,â Callie said coldly. âNever mind gathering all the facts and coming to an informed conclusion. Itâs clear that youâve already made up your mind.â
âSheely, you areââ
âIâm tired of talking about this,â Callie said, boldly cutting him off.
She turned and stalked from the lounge.
âSheely, come back here.â
She ignored his command and stormed inside the empty womenâs locker room. Mercifully, it had not gone the unisex route like the lounge. Each sex still had separate quarters to shower and change clothes.
Moments later a tall, pretty blond nurse joined Callie in an aisle of lockers, by the long bench positioned in the middle. âSheely, Trey Weldon wants me to tell you that he has to talk to you. He said âright now.ââ
Jennifer Olsen had been in the class behind her in Tri-Stateâs nursing school and currently worked in the obstetrics clinic, surrounded by expectant mothers. Jennifer made no secret of her ultimate goal, which was to have her own baby as soon as possible. Her more immediate goal, however, was to find a suitable man to marry and impregnate her. Preferably a doctor, with a sizable income.
At the same moment Callie wondered what Jennifer was doing up here in the womenâs surgical locker room, Jennifer mustâve felt obliged to explain her presence.
âI came up to see if Karen wanted to go to the Squirrel Den tonight. Thereâs a bunch of us going.â
Callie knew Karen Kaminsky, an OR nurse whoâd graduated in Jenniferâs class. âYou mustâve missed her. Sheâs probably at lunch.â
âOh. Hey, Sheely, you come to the Squirrel Den tonight, too, if you want, okay?â
Callie pictured the Squirrel Den, a relic from the cityâs industrial dark age, a dank, smoky, gloomy place jammed with cheap old tables and booths. âUh, thanks, Jen. Iâll try to make it,â she said politely. I just wonât try very hard, she added to herself.
âSheely, about Trey Weldon, heââ
Callie sighed. âTell him you didnât see me in here, Jennifer.â
âBut this place is too small for me not to see you. I wouldnât want to lie to the man.â
âCertainly not,â Callie murmured dourly.
Without a doubt Treyâs credentials met, even exceeded, all of Jenniferâs requirements in a potential husband and father. Too bad, Jen, Callie thought darkly, you donât fulfill the prerequisites for Weldon class status any more than I do.
Callie sucked in her cheeks and pointed at the window high above the lockers. âYou can tell him I flew out that window on my broomstick. He probably thinks Iâm capable of it. All I have to do is swap my surgical cap for my tall, pointy, black hat.â
âThe doctor is always right, and when the nurse doesnât agree, sheâs a witch, hmm?â Jennifer was sympathetic.
âExactly. Just a doctor-nurse disagreement. Itâs nothing personal.â Callie felt the need to stress that.
Although a little voice in her head pointed out that she was taking her inability to influence Trey in the Scott Fritche matter very personally, Callie instructed the little voice to shut up.
âWell, since heâs waiting out there, I guess I ought to go tell him something.â Jennifer lowered her voice conspiratorially. âSheely, rumors fly around here, but Iâve never heard any about you and Trey Weldon. Still, Iâll come right out and ask, and I hope you wonât take offense. Are you two involved?â
âIn what? A blood feud? No, not yet.â
Jennifer giggled. âYou know what I mean, Sheely. Are you and he, um, romantically involved?â
âNo.â Callieâs heart lurched wildly. She wouldâve liked to toss off a breezy quip about Trey being surgically gifted yet disabled in the art of romance, but the words stuck in her throat.
Because of the disturbing thoughts that flooded her mind.
For all she knew, Trey actually could be one of the worldâs great romantics, passionate, sensitive and thoughtfulâyet extremely discreet. Possibly, he kept that part of his life so secretive that only the woman who was the object of his desire knew that side of him.
What would it be like, to know that there was a deeply secret, romantic side of Trey? Oh, what sheâd give to know!
Thoroughly flustered, Callie forgot to breathe, and then had to inhale sharply.
âSheely?â Jenniferâs voice seemed to come from some other dimension. âWould you happen to know if Trey is going to the Springtime Ball?â
Callie jerked to attention. She was the one in the other dimension, a foolish one called fantasyland. Jenâs voice came from the real world, and Callieâs return to it was sharp and complete.
She heaved a small sigh. She was pathetic. Her hot, Trey fantasy, coupled with Jenniferâs query about Trey and the big dance, was so junior high school she wouldnât be surprised to hear the bell ringing to change classes.
âI donât know, Jennifer. He hasnât mentioned the Springtime Ball.â
âI know itâs late, the ball is only two weeks away, but the guy I was going to go with had to cancel. Heâs a lawyer and has some stupid conference that just came up.â Jennifer added quickly.
âI hate it when that happens.â Callie tried to sound sympathetic.
âAnd I already have a dress and I donât want Joshua to think Iâll be sitting at home that night because he canât make it. Maybe Iâll just go ahead and ask Trey Weldon to the dance. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, you know.â Jennifer smiled, a nothing-ventured-nothing-gained kind of smile.
Callie suppressed the urge to grimace. She fumbled with her locker combination, hitting the wrong number, having to start over again.
âSee you later, Sheely,â Jennifer called brightly, gliding out of the locker room.
Callie yanked the top of her scrub suit over her head, while dropping the pants to the floor. The suit was at least three sizes too big for her.
âDonât think you can hide in there and sulk, Sheely. You are going to listen to me.â
âTrey, Dr. Weldon, you canât go in there!â
Callie heard the locker-room door open and slam hard against the tiled wall. She heard Treyâs voice, angry and frustrated, followed by Jenniferâs high-pitched protest.
But it happened so fast, in just a split second, that she didnât have time to process all the information until Trey was standing directly in front of her.
And she was standing in front of her locker, clad only in her white cotton bra and panties.
Trey seemed to freeze in place. Callie gasped and reached for her scrub top. She instinctively held it in front of her, shielding herself from his startled blue eyes.
Jennifer shrieked.
Two
Trey remained stock-still, as if heâd been turned to stone. It felt that way. He couldnât