Page 19 of Healing Her

“You look very decorative and everyone wants to meet you,” Steve replied blithely, letting his wife, Elyse, straighten the bowtie at his neck. “That’s very valuable in the eyes of the hospital board.”

The three of them were all grouped together in a corner of the Claiburne Hotel’s large, elegant ballroom, watching as other small groups of people ate canapes and guzzled down gallons of bubbly. The hospital threw two upscale fundraising events each year, and much to Jen’s dismay, she’d been told when she was hired that as a department head, she was expected to attend them. She’d missed the early summer gala since she hadn’t been working for Oakridge at the time, but there was no getting out of this sparkling just post-Thanksgiving, pre-Christmas event.

Elyse Sundstrom, a veteran of many an Oakridge fundraiser, stepped around her husband to stand before Jen and look her over with appraising green eyes. “This is a lovely dress,” she said,reaching out to pinch a fold of the icy blue velvet. “The way it sets off your hair and eyes is perfect. Oh, but—” Reaching into her curly blonde updo, she extracted a hairpin and advanced on Jen with it. “There’s a little lock of hair that needs some extra security. I always have my hairdresser stick some extra pins in me so I can help with things like that.”

“You’re amazing,” Jen breathed, bowing her head so that Elyse could work her magic. “I hadn’t noticed. I don’t usually care about my hair.”

“It’s beautiful hair. I’d love to be able to go silver like you. My hair just grows out the color of dirty dishwater if I don’t keep up with my bleaching schedule.” Elyse stepped back, the iridescent black bugle beads on her own gown glittering in the ballroom light. “There. Absolutely beautiful. You look like an ice princess, Jen.”

“Thank you, Elyse. I appreciate you recommending me to your personal shopper. I wouldn’t have known where to begin. Not just with the formalwear at all, but…” Jen gestured to her height, or lack thereof. “The whole being short thing.”

“We can’t all be willowy brunettes,” Elyse replied lightly, tilting her head to indicate Ashley Proctor standing on the other side of the ballroom. Jen followed her gaze.

Ashley was with a petite redhead in a bias-cut copper silk gown. Unlike everyone else in the room, the redhead had chosen to leave her incredible crown of spiraling curls loose and free, tumbling down the delicate curve of her spine. She looked like an autumn sprite, one with a deliciously sexy air about her. Jen was intrigued by prim, closed-off Ashley’s choice to bring someone so clearly free spirited and her polar opposite as a date.

“I’m going to say hello,” Jen murmured, absently setting her champagne flute on the tray of a passing waiter.

“Behave yourself,” Steve warned. Jen waved a careless hand at him as she began to make her way through the crowd.

Ashley looked up as she approached, wariness in her brown eyes. Jen noticed how especially pretty Asley looked this evening, even though her burgundy silk jersey gown was high-necked and, apart from a surprisingly high leg slit, cut much too severely in Jen’s opinion. Her hair wasn’t in its usual tight French twist, however. Someone—Jen suspected the livewire redhead—had convinced her to wear it in a sleek, low ponytail that flowed down her back. It amazed Jen to see how much hair had been contained in the tightly pinned up style Ashley wore every day.

“Doctor Proctor.” Jen smiled politely. Now that she was here, she wondered what she’d been thinking. They hadn’t really spoken since putting Maria’s LVAD in together the week before, a procedure that had gone smoothly and with little conversation. And not once had they spoken about what had happened in the supply room. Jen was actually fairly certain the cardiac surgeon wasavoidingher.

Now, Ashley smiled back at her, a tight, nervous smile. She looked like she would cheerfully volunteer to be stuck full of thumbtacks if it meant she would be taken away from this moment. “Doctor Colton.”

“Doctor Jennifer Colton? Hi.” The redhead stuck out a delicately freckled hand. “I’m Felicity Davis. You can call me City. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

That made Jen’s eyebrow lift up. Someone who knew Ashley Proctor, pleased to see her?Interesting. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you from Ashley.” City had big brown eyes that twinkled with merriment. “You certainly do drive her up a wall. I’ve been dying to meet you for that alone.”

“City!” Ashley gasped, her eyes widening in horror. Jen bit her lip to keep from giggling. She hadn’t expected to like the troublemaking ginger, but she did, instantly.

“I think I’ve seen you at the Indigo Lounge, actually, Doctor Colton,” City remarked. “Do you know the owners, the Hartley-Blooms? They’re here tonight.”

“You have, and I’m sorry I missed you there,” Jen replied lightly. She was intrigued by the situation before her. The way City was gently tweaking Ashley’s nose, so to speak, was absolutely fascinating. Jen would have put good money on nobody in the world being allowed to do that. “I’ve met Esme, we’ve had some great conversations. But not Nora.”

“Nora buys art at the gallery I manage.” City twisted her arm through Jen’s and led her over to an attractive pair of women admiring a graceful bronze sculpture that suggested a nude woman, dancing. “I’m hoping Esme can talk her into buying this piece for the Lounge. We’ve loaned it to the hotel for the month. But wouldn’t it look perfect in the decompression room at the Lounge?”

That caught the attention of one of the women by the statue, who looked over at them with a lovely smile on her face. “Oh, City, it really would be ideal there.” She tucked a lock of her long salt and pepper hair behind her ear and looked at her partner, a striking blonde with a mercenary air about her. “Nora, don’t you think it would?”

“I do. But I also have to consider how much we’re going to be giving to the hospital, Esme, since that’s what we’re actually here for.” The blonde, Nora, shook her head at her wife. “City, you troublemaker.”

“It’s my best talent,” City replied lightly, tossing her head of tumbling curls. “Right, Ashley?”

Jen hadn’t noticed that Ashley had trailed along behind them as they approached the Hartley-Blooms. She looked increasingly uncomfortable as City’s arm remained twined with Jen’s. Perhaps even slightly annoyed, Jen thought. Experimentally,she tugged City in closer and watched as Ashley’s eyes narrowed.How very, very interesting.

There was not much, Jen thought, that she wouldn’t give to know what the hell was going on in Ashley Proctor’s head right now.

As she and City watched, Ashley swallowed hard, her cheeks flushed, and she snatched a champagne flute off a nearby tray. “I need some air,” she announced, a split second before she turned on her heel and began to push her way through the crowd.

“Hm,” City said, tapping one perfectly manicured finger on her own glass of champagne as she tugged Jen into a little wall niche with a small bench. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that my dear friend Ashley was having a little bit of a jealous moment. How fascinating.”

Jen slid a sidelong glance towards her. “Do tell.”

“That woman has all but ghosted me lately,” City replied, just before taking a large swig out of her glass. “Then she texts me today to ask me if I’ll come to this with her. I was already coming as the gallery’s representative, but I say sure. Because she’s talked about you a lot.”

“So you said.” Jen picked at her bottom lip, heedless of the lipstick she knew she was getting all over her fingers. “What did you mean by that? She doesn’t like me…”

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