Page 1 of Tempting the Doctor

Chapter 1

Mandy

When my boss told me that I’d be responsible for the magazine’s newest series featuring the top ten most influential professionals in the city, I’d been ecstatic. It’s my first opportunity to take lead on a project of this size, and if I do a good job, it could lead to the kind of recognition I’ve been dreaming of since I was a little girl. I’ve quickly come to realize, however, that being influential also means being busy. Getting a few minutes with each of these remarkable people has been next to impossible. But I’ve done it, with one exception: Dr. Trey Miller.

The handsome cardiac surgeon has proven harder to catch than a rare bird. I’ve left several messages with his office and have finally resorted to dropping by in person. It isn’t a good look, to drop by unannounced, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get this interview for our series. It shouldn’t even be this difficult; the hospital already agreed to the interview. They’d even given me an appointment time to meet with him, but Dr. Miller canceled at the last minute and has refused to reschedule.

I wait patiently outside Dr. Miller’s office and review my notes while I wait for his receptionist to finish her phone call. Last year, Dr. Trey Miller was voted the number one most eligible bachelor in the city, and it’s easy to see why with his strong jawline, piercing dark blue eyes, and ebony hair. He’s the living embodiment of tall, dark, and handsome.

I roll my eyes when I think about the article that had accompanied his award. The man is a Harvard graduate with more awards and innovations to his name than could even be listed on a single page. He’s brilliant. Yet, that article had asked him questions like,how do you unwind after a long day,what’s your favorite flavor of ice cream, andwhat is your favorite season and why?

I strongly suspect that interview is the reason I can’t get him to sit down with me. Still, he could at least take a moment to see that I represent a respectable magazine. We might not beForbesor theNew York Times, but we are close.

His receptionist finally hangs up the phone and gives me her attention. “Can I help you?” she asks in a pleasant voice.

“Yes, hello. I’m here to see Dr. Miller,” I respond, matching her tone.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I mean, I did, but he canceled. I haven’t been able to connect with him to reschedule, so I stopped by.” I cringe internally. Secretaries are their boss’s gatekeepers, and any good gatekeeper can catch a half-truth like the one I’ve just told. This woman, with her sharp green eyes and tight blonde bun, looks like she is accustomed to zealously guarding access to her employer.

As I suspected they would, her eyes narrow on me, and she purses her lips. “I’m afraid Dr. Miller has a full schedule today. I’d be happy to leave him a message, so he can call you at his earliest convenance.”

I bit back a scoff. I’m quite certain the good doctor’s earliest convenance will be the first of never. Pretending to be obtuse, I smile brightly at her and say in an overly cheery voice, “That’s okay! I’ll just wait here.”

She starts to protest, but I interrupt her, “No, no. It’s fine. I don’t mind waiting at all.” Then, I hurry to take a seat in the waiting room, purposely sitting with my back to her. At best, Dr. Miller will come out to tell me to leave himself. If that doesn’t work, I can at least tell my boss I’d done the journalism equivalent of a sit-in. He wouldn’t be able to say I didn’t try.

While I wait, I decide it’s probably wise to start researching our alternative picks for top ten. No matter how insistent my boss is about snagging an interview with the elusive surgeon, it might never happen. It would be best to be prepared with another feature. As I start researching a young female CEO of a local tech company, I overhear the secretary speaking to someone. My ears perk up as I realize they’re talking about Dr. Miller.

“He had me block of his schedule for tonight and make him dinner reservations,” an unknown voice says.

“Maybe he’s going to a work dinner or having dinner with a friend,” the secretary responds.

“No way, Jane. I’ve been Dr. Miller’s personal assistant for almost a decade. The man has never once asked me to tell the hospital not to disturb him for a night,andhe had me make reservations for two at an upscale, romantic restaurant. I’m telling you, he’s got a date,” the other voice insists.

“Hm. I don’t know, Sarah. Dr. Miller never talks about his personal life, but I think we’d know if he was dating someone,” Jane says.

“That’s because he doesn’t have a personal life. That’s not the only reason I think it’s a date, either,” Sarah says in a tone like she knows the juiciest gossip.

I’m listening intently. So far, none of what they’re saying is going to help me. I have no interest in Dr. Miller’s love life; I just want ten minutes of the man’s time.

“I think it’s ablind date,” Sarah whispers, though it’s loud enough to carry across the waiting room.

And now, Jane is intrigued. I hear a sharp inhale, and I’m tempted to turn around to see her expression, but I don’t want to tip them off that I’m listening. Instead, I pretend to be engrossed in my phone.

“Why do you think that?” Jane asks breathlessly. Yeah, she acted like she was above gossiping at first, but she’s totally invested in this.

“I overheard him on the phone with his mother. He kept insisting that he didn’t want to meet someone, a woman named Caroline Winters. It was right after that call that he told me to make the reservation,” Sarah says.

At this, I perk up. A blind date? If he’s never met this Caroline, he might not know what she looks like. Maybe I could…No. That would cross a line, wouldn’t it?

“What restaurant is he taking her to?” Jane asks, and I could kiss her. That is the very information I need.

“It’s that new place, Oasis. I made the reservation for 8pm, prime date hour.” Sarah added that last bit in a sing-song voice, clearly proud now that Jane seemed to agree with her assumptions.

Both women gasp when a rich, deep voice comes from further away. “Ms. Russell, if you’re quite finished distracting Ms. Berk, you both have work to do.”

“Sorry, Dr. Miller,” Sarah says. Jane is quiet, but I can imagine someone as serious as she seems to be must be mortified at having been caught slacking off.

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