“And he survived leisure suits and the disco era, too,” Seth added. “No mean feat, that.”
Mindy nodded. “Exactly. The world has changed so much in his lifetime. And he can remember all of it. It’s incredible.”
Reed looked over at Seth and found his friend hanging on Mindy’s every word, as if she were revealing the secrets of the universe to him. “Incredible,” he echoed in a voice that Reed had heard before, the one Seth used when he was fast falling for a woman he shouldn’t be falling for, fast or otherwise.
Of course, Seth fell fast for a new woman nearly every hour, which meant that Reed should put a stop to his descent right now. That way he could spare the innocent Mindy the ugly aftermath of his friend’s wandering ways.
“Miss, uh…” Reed began.
The waitress turned to him, but where she’d had a sunny smile in place for Seth, her features quickly schooled into a polite, if bland, expression for him. “Mindy is fine,” she told him.
Yes, Mindy is indeed fine, Reed thought before he could stop himself.
That thought was immediately followed by another, one that essentially went, Holy cow! Where did that come from? Immediately, he pushed both thoughts away. She was pregnant, for God’s sake, he reminded himself. No way did she deserve to be ogled like a.like a.like a beautiful woman, he finished lamely. Even if that was precisely what she was. She was a beautiful woman. One who was waif thin and delicate looking.
She was in no way the kind of woman he normally ogled, anyway, pregnant or otherwise. He preferred women his own age, professional women in his own income bracket, women who’d shared some of the same life experiences he’d had himself. Strong women. Women who didn’t look so damned exhausted and.well, fragile.
“Mindy,” he said. “You’ll have to excuse my friend here. He’s easily impressed.”
She nodded, but somehow he knew she had no idea what he was talking about. “Well, enjoy your dinner,” she said hastily, turning away.
“Wait,” Seth exclaimed, halting her progress, “don’t go.”
She spun around again, but this time her expression was unmistakably wary. “Was there something else? I’ll be happy to go get Donna for you.”
“No, no,” Seth told her. “It’s what we can do for you. Or rather, what my friend and colleague can do for you. Because, Mindy, sweetheart, Dr. Atchison here is about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.” Seth turned his attention pointedly on Reed and asked, “Aren’t you, old buddy, old pal?”
Mindy eyed first the blond man in the booth before her, and then the black-haired one…and felt the hairs on the back of her neck leap to attention. The two men were like color negatives of each other: one handsome, fair and blue-eyed, the other handsome, dark and brown-eyed. Their dispositions, too, seemed to be utterly opposite each other. Where the blonde put Mindy immediately at ease and seemed pleasant enough, the dark-haired man sent every sense on alert and made her entire body hum with electricity.
Not that he seemed scary by any stretch of the imagination. Not in a dangerous way, at any rate. He did, however, inspire a kind of caution, the kind a woman felt when faced with a man who had the potential to break her heart. Strange, that, she thought, seeing as how she’d only known him for about thirty seconds now.
Although both men were certainly attractive, the blonde was a bit too boyish in his looks, a bit too adorable in his presentation, for Mindy to find him anything other than kind of cute. The dark-haired man, however.
Well, she’d always been partial to black hair. And brown eyes. And craggy, blunt good looks. Which made her choice of husband odd, now that she thought more about it, because Sam Harmon had been a sandy-haired, blue-eyed, surfer-dude wannabe. Therefore, this man was nothing at all like Sam. And therefore, she told herself, she shouldn’t feel intimidated by him the way she had felt around Sam there toward the end.
And really, intimidated was the last thing she felt at the moment. As standoffish as the dark-haired man’s demeanor seemed to be, Mindy immediately sensed something within him—way deep down within him—that was almost…personable? Warm? Good-hearted? Kind? Oh, no, surely not, she corrected herself. Not with a frown like that. Not with a glare like that.
Still…
“He really is going to make you an offer you can’t refuse,” the blond man said, shaking off the odd sensation winding its way through Mindy’s soul. “Just watch. Reed?” he said further. “Tell our studio audience what Mindy here has won.”
She eyed the dark-haired man—the one called Reed—in confusion, then turned back to the blonde. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But you guys seem to have me at a loss. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She waited for the blond man to offer an explanation—or even the dark man, for that matter. She wasn’t particular, so long as she received some kind of explanation—and when none was forthcoming, she arched her eyebrows in silent query.
Finally taking the hint, the blond man dipped his head toward his companion. “My friend here,” he said, “is Dr. Reed Atchison, resident heart surgeon over at Seton General Hospital. I,” he added hastily, seeming genuinely surprised to realize that he had neglected to introduce himself as well, “am Dr. Seth Mahoney. And Reed and I have been having an interesting difference of opinion lately. You, my dear Miss…uh, Mindy.have just solved the dilemma for us.”
Mindy eyed him warily. “Um, thanks. I guess.”
“No, no, thank you,” he immediately—and very enthusiastically—replied. “This has been a most enlightening meal, and we haven’t even received our food yet.”
“We haven’t received our coffee yet, either,” the dark-haired man—Reed…Dr. Atchison—mumbled.
“Oh, I’ll go get Donna and remind her,” Mindy offered quickly, snatching the opportunity to excuse herself from what was promising to become a puzzling—if not outright bizarre—situation.
“Not yet,” the blonde—Seth…Dr. Mahoney…whoever—halted her.
She sighed fitfully. “I’m really sorry,” she said again, “but I don’t know what you guys are talking about, and I have a lot of work to do right now, so if you’ll just excuse me…”
The blond M.D. nodded. “I understand,” he said. Gosh, that made one of them, Mindy thought dryly. Before she could comment, however, he added, “We can continue our conversation after your shift has ended.”
Mindy shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think that would be—”
“It’s no problem,” the man assured her. Then he turned to his friend. “Right, Reed?”
Dr. Atchison grumbled something under his breath that she was fairly certain wasn’t an agreement.
“What was that?” Dr. Mahoney asked.
“I said, ‘Fine,’“ the other man snapped.
Funny, Mindy thought, but it sure hadn’t sounded as if he’d said, Fine.
“Um, really,” she continued hastily, “I don’t think I—”
“Of course you do,” Dr. Mahoney assured her.
Mindy decided not to dwell on that. “I’m probably going to be working late,”