Leaving the bathroom, she squelched her divergent impulses and hurried to the living room to find Lacy and CeeCee perched on the couch beside Gage, telling embarrassing personal anecdotes about her.
“And there was the time she got up to give a lecture and she had a dryer sheet stuck to her wool skirt. Lacy and I tried to signal her, but when Janet is in professional mode, she lets nothing break her concentration.” CeeCee chuckled.
“The audience kept laughing,” Lacy said. “The harder they laughed, the more professional Janet became. She never let them throw her.”
“You guys! Don’t tell him all that stuff,” Janet protested from the doorway, her face heating at the memory.
To the outside observer she might have appeared controlled and professional at that lecture, but inside her confidence hovered below zero. She had been relieved to discover a dryer sheet had been the butt of the joke and not her performance, but the truly awful part had been that her father had put in one of his rare appearances.
Afterward he had harped on her “shameful display,” declaring she had so thoroughly disgraced him that he wouldn’t be able to hold his head up at the next American Medical Association meeting.
As if anybody but her father cared about a dryer sheet and static electricity malfunction.
Gage’s eyes met hers. She saw nothing but sympathy. “It must have been very embarrassing for you.”
She shrugged, not wanting him to know how deeply the silly incident had affected her. “I’d forgotten all about it.”
CeeCee looked from Janet to Gage, then bounced off the couch. “We were just leaving, weren’t we, Lacy?”
“But I thought since Jack and Bennett were working at the hospital that we’d planned a girls’ day out. A trip to the art museum, lunch at Carshon’s deli, the latest Jennifer Lawrence movie.” Lacy shook her head and looked bewildered.
CeeCee took Lacy by the arm and tugged her to her feet. “Say goodbye, Lacy.”
“Bye-bye.” Lacy wriggled her fingers and let CeeCee drag her to the door. “Catch ya later.”
When her friends had departed, Janet expelled a deep sigh. “So we’ve got paparazzi camped outside our building.”
Gage smiled apologetically. “’Fraid so. The penalty of getting engaged to Dr. Hero. Instant celebrity.”
“Did you know all this would happen?”
“I’d hoped it wouldn’t here in Houston.”
“You could have warned me.”
“You could have told me your father would call every news outlet in the tri-state area.”
“I didn’t know,” she said. “But I should have. My father loves being the center of attention.”
“Then he’ll flip over this.”
“So what are we going to do?” She waved a hand at her cell phone on the table. It was buzzing again with another call.
“We have four choices. One, break down and give them an interview.” He held up an index finger.
“Oh, please, no. I can’t tell a bald-faced lie to reporters.”
“Fair enough.” Gage nodded. “I understand that. Or two.” Up went another finger. “We could simply tell the truth.”
Janet winced. She wasn’t ready to do that, either. “I’d have to break the news to my father first.”
“Okay.”
“What are the other two options?”
“We could hole up here and cower indoors on a beautiful spring morning.”
“Not my style.”
“Mine, either.”
“Or?”
“We could put on disguises and give them the slip.” He grinned. “We could make a day of it. You and me out on the town. What do you say? Are you game?
11
They strolled incognito through the park. Gage wore a felt fedora pulled low over his forehead, sunshades, and a lightweight jacket with the collar turned up. He looked like a third-rate P.I. from some hard-boiled detective novel. She simply had to laugh.
Janet wore a Houston Astros baseball cap and cheap drugstore sunglasses. She felt a little foolish and a lot excited. Impish voice thrilled with the adventure, but rational voice got miffed that her sensible advice to call off the whole fake engagement had gone unheeded.
They had left their building separately, each departing through a back entrance, leaving their cars in the lot and meeting up twenty minutes later on the river walk. The park filled with joggers and picnicking families. People walked their dogs or tossed them Frisbees. Children threw breadcrumbs to the pond ducks. Dappled sunlight sifted through the newly leafed oak trees lining the main walkway.
Slowly, Janet relaxed in the peaceful environment.
That is until Gage reached over and took her hand. He held on loosely, giving her the option to pull away if she chose.
But she didn’t choose. It felt good to hold hands, and he didn’t seem to think she was the least bit clingy. So there, Father.
“You look really beautiful today,” he said. “I like seeing you like this. Casual. Mellow. Happy even.”
It was true; she thought. She felt happy.
She glanced over at him. He had taken off his sunglasses and was studying her with gentle thoughtfulness. She smiled and ducked her head, feeling strangely shy at his scrutiny. She worried that if he searched long enough, he would find something to displease him.
His hand was warm in hers—warm and firm and comforting. No judgment there. No condemnation. Just simple acceptance.
Gage squeezed her hand.
Her pulse throbbed. She raised her head and met his gaze.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine.” She nodded. She was way more than okay, and that’s what made her nervous. She liked being with him. Liked holding his hand. Enjoyed seeing that sexy smile.
“Was it always so invasive growing up?” she asked. “Reporters hanging around? Paparazzi snapping your picture?”
Gage shrugged. “Only during my heyday as the Grabble Cereal kid. Then again, later when I invented the Gregory method and when I saved Senator McConelly’s son from drowning.”
“I just heard about that today,” Janet said, her sexy eyes latched onto his face. “Here I just thought you were a regular hero who heals sick kids and now I find out you’re super charged.’
He had to admit; he liked the admiration in her eyes, but he had mixed feelings about being a celebrity. On the one hand, it had afforded him opportunities
