He was whistling while he fixed breakfast. Michelle walked into the kitchen just as he was putting the utensils on the table.
She looked good enough to eat. Dressed in tight, faded blue jeans that emphasized her long legs and a snug white T-shirt that ended just above her navel, she looked sexier to him than she had the night before, and he hadn't thought that was possible. Heaven help him, the woman just kept getting better and better.
He handed her a glass of juice. 'Want to have some fun?'
Those weren't the first words she expected to hear. 'What kind of fun?' she asked cautiously.
'Sugar mill fun.'
She couldn't believe she was actually a little disappointed. 'Oh. Yes… yes, of course. May I help?'
'Sure you can, but eat your breakfast first. I've got it all ready for you. I like cooking,' he added enthusiastically, as though he'd only just realized that fact. 'It relaxes me.'
She glanced at the table and laughed. 'Opening a box of cereal and getting the milk out of the fridge isn't cooking.'
'I made coffee too,' he boasted.
'Which, translated, means you pushed the button. I got it ready last night.'
He pulled out a chair for her, got a whiff of her perfume, and wanted to get closer. He moved back instead and leaned against the sink. 'You look nice today.'
She tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. 'You don't think this top is a little tight?'
'Why do you think I said you look nice?'
'Every time I put it on, I take it off and find some-
thing else to wear. It's the latest fashion,' she added defensively. 'My friend Mary Ann gave it to me, and she told me my
belly button is supposed to show.'
He pulled his faded navy blue T-shirt up until his navel was showing. 'If it's in fashion, I'm in.'
'I'll change,' she said, prying her attention away from his hard, flat stomach. The man was disgustingly fit, which was a miracle considering the amount of junk food he ate.
'I like what you're wearing,' he protested.
'I'm changing,' she said again. Then she shook her head. 'It's difficult… trying to get comfortable in my skin these days.'
'What do you mean?'
'I spent so many years trying not to look like a girl.'
He thought she was joking and laughed.
'It's true,' she said. 'When I was in medical school, I did everything I could to downplay the obvious fact that I was a woman.'
Astonished, he asked, 'Why would you do that?'
'The head of one department was extremely prejudiced against female doctors and did everything he could to make our lives miserable. He was such a creep,' she added. 'He and his buddies would go out drinking with the male students, but only after he had loaded the female students down with research assignments and extra work. I didn't care about that, but I didn't like having to jump through twice as many hoops as the male students. Complaining would have made the situation worse. The only alternative for a female student was to drop out, which was exactly what the head of the department wanted.'
She suddenly smiled. 'One night, while some of the other women and I were getting zonkered on mar- garitas, we figured it all out.'
'What'd you figure out?'
'The department head was afraid of us. Keep in mind we were exhausted and tipsy.'
'Did you come up with a reason for why he was afraid of you?'
'Our minds. He knew the truth.'
'What truth?'
'Women have vastly superior minds.' She laughed as she added, 'Fear and insecurity were at the root of the prejudice. I remember, at the time the revelation was stunning to us. It wasn't true, but we were too drunk to know or care. I realize now
of course that it was all nonsense, we aren't any less or any more capable than male doctors, but being able to laugh and feel
smug helped us get through the really tough times.'
'Was your residency as difficult?'
'No, it was completely different. We were all treated equally horrible twenty hours a day, seven days a week. It didn't matter
that I was a woman. All I needed to know was how to run. It was grueling,' she admitted. 'I learned how to catch fifteen
minutes of sleep standing up. I was fortunate to train under a gifted surgeon. He was obnoxious,' she said, 'but he and I got
along. I pretty much lived in scrubs, and fashion wasn't part of the curriculum.'
'My doctor's a female.'
'No kidding.'
'Yes. She took my appendix out.'
'I'm not your doctor. If that were the case, I'd put you on a low-sodium, low-fat diet.'
'Did I mention I don't like my doctor and that I never follow her advice? As for clothes, it doesn't matter what you wear, Michelle. Men are still going to stare at you. I just hope the Carson brothers aren't gawking out the window at you while I'm trying my best to terrorize them.'
'You're going to use terror tactics? Cool.'
'I thought you'd approve.'
'What do you mean, looking out the window at me? Can't I go inside with you?'
'Sorry. You don't get to watch the brothers sweat.'
'Why not?'
'Because I don't want you to hear what I'm going to say. You never know. You might have to testify against me in court one day.'
'Exactly what are you planning to do?'
He grabbed the sugar bowl from the lazy Susan on the counter and sat down across from her. 'Wait and see,' he said. Then he reached for the box of cereal and poured a huge helping of cornflakes. 'I like Frosted Flakes better,' he remarked as he started dumping sugar on top.
She got nauseated watching him. 'I've got a five-pound bag of sugar in the pantry. Why don't you get it down, grab a spoon, and dig in.'
'Sweetheart, sarcasm first thing in the morning isn't appreciated. Want some coffee?'
'I made that for you,' she said. 'I usually drink a Diet Coke for breakfast.'
He laughed. 'And you're criticizing my eating habits?'
She got a cold can out of the refrigerator, popped the lid, and took a long swallow. 'Did I hear the doorbell this morning?'
'I had some papers messengered to me from New Orleans. It's kind of amazing the driver found your house. My directions
were iffy.'
'You have offices in New Orleans?'
'I've got friends there,' he said. 'After I talked to Daryl, I called some people in Boston. Since I'm not familiar with Louisiana
law or workman's comp, I had to use some of my connections.'
'It seems to me that if an employee were injured while on the job, then he's entitled to workman's compensation.'
