In Good Hands Read Free Page B

than to play where he works.”
    â€œYeah, but he goes to all these chichi parties, always with gorgeous women.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo one of us always makes a point to find out afterward. You know, are they dating, what’s going on, and—”
    â€œAnd they always say they’re friends.” Amber released a low laugh. “Honey, that doesn’t mean he’s gay. Just selective.” And probably very discreet.
    â€œTrust me,” returned Claire, her voice confident. “No man is that virtuous. Unless he’s gay.”
    Amber shook her head. “Let me give you a hint,” she said. “That man right there is a player, high-end executive type. Quiet. Discreet. But hot as they come.”
    They both turned together to ogle him some more. He was still in deep discussion just down the hallway. The engineer was getting emotional, waving his printouts, gesturing wildly and pointing at a room marked Lab. In contrast, Roger listened seriously, his body taut, but his expression calm. And when the engineer finished speaking, Roger simply shook his head. Not surprisingly, the engineer got more frantic while Roger became more still. In the end, the engineer stormed off in a huff which left Roger time to look up and flash both Amber and Claire a rueful smile before moving down the hall.
    Claire huffed. “Definitely gay.”
    â€œDiscreet, type A and hetero through and through.” Amber leaned back against the counter and sighed as a wave of memories hit. “Trust me on this. I know his type.”
    Claire gave her an arch look, making sure to scan her shapeless sundress and cheap sandals. “I’m sure you think—”
    â€œYou think I grew up wearing flip-flops and a tank? I spent my youth dating guys like that. My father was an executive just like him. And my mother runs the cardiology ward at a top hospital. I was surrounded by the type.”
    â€œAnd then?” Claire asked, obviously wondering how she’d gone from the silver spoon life to filling in as the plant girl.
    Amber shrugged. “I burned out on the politics. I couldn’tget anything done except for what they wanted, so I went rogue. Doesn’t mean I don’t remember though. And let me tell you—sex with the alpha dog?” She sighed. “That’s one hot ride.”
    Claire frowned, but then her eyes abruptly widened. “Wait a moment. I know you! Mary told me all about you.”
    Amber winced. “Don’t believe everything Mary says.”
    â€œNo! She told me you’d be filling in. You’re that doctor! You run a free clinic out in that artsy area of Chicago. What’s it called?”
    â€œCherry Hills, not that there are any cherries or hills anywhere near. And it’s really not that artsy.” More like converted warehouses. The neighborhood artistes gloried in their studio lofts, but the population included more reformed drug addicts and single mothers than wannabe Picassos. Like her, everyone in Cherry Hills was just at the edge of poverty, struggling to keep it together.
    â€œAnd you’re Doc Crystal!”
    â€œMy name’s Amber. They just thought it was a crystal and the name stuck…” she began, trying divert the discussion. But it was too late. Claire was off and running.
    â€œYeah! Doc Crystal. You’re like this doctor Robin Hood and Mother Teresa all rolled into one. Mary says you’re amazing!”
    â€œMary’s on massive painkillers. And I, um, gotta get back to these plants.” Amber turned away. She hated the hero worship that appeared in people’s eyes the minute they heard “free clinic” and “doctor” in the same sentence. That’s why she let people think she had a corporate background rather than high-end medicine. In her mind, they were one and the same, but for other people? There was a world of difference.
    As for running a free clinic, her neighbor