Prognosis: Romance (Doctors in Training 4)

“You’re sure you don’t want to come in for coffee?”

“No, I really can’t. But I haven’t forgotten that I owe you a cup.”

He looked at her questioningly and she couldn’t blame him for not being quite sure how to interpret her comment. After all, it had been over a week since she’d assured him coffee was her treat the next time. She had wondered if she would still be as attracted to him upon seeing him again after that interval. She’d had her answer the moment she’d looked up to see him watching her from the kitchen doorway and her knees had almost liquefied in reaction. His matter-of-fact praise of her career skills had only made him more appealing to her.

Maybe her instincts had overreacted a bit where James was concerned. Maybe her initial summary of him as a march-in, take-charge kind of guy wasn’t exactly correct. He’d certainly given her little reason to believe that thus far. Maybe she had mistaken composure and self-assurance for an authoritarianism he did not possess. As he had pointed out to her, she’d made up her mind about him without giving him a chance to correct what could be an erroneous first impression.

And even if it turned out she’d been right the first time, she’d learned how to deal with men like that, right? She knew now how to stand up for herself, how to protect herself from disappointment and heartbreak. So it was foolish of her to deny herself a chance to enjoy his company just for fear of where it might lead.

“Hang on.” She dug into her purse and drew out one of the pink-and-black Kid Capers business cards she had designed and printed herself. “That’s my cell number,” she said. “If I don’t answer, I’m probably working with a customer at the toy store, so just leave me a message and I’ll call you back.”

“And why will I be calling you?”

She rather liked the somewhat confused look on his face. Keeping him slightly off-balance was another way for her to stay in control. “You’ll be calling to arrange a time when we can get together for that coffee.”

His mouth quirking into a smile, he tucked the card into his pocket. “I’ll look forward to it.”

She climbed into her car and drove away without further conversation.

Though the days were still hot during the first week of September, evenings brought some relief. The air was still very warm, but tolerable, as Shannon and James strolled down President Clinton Avenue in Little Rock’s River Market District on the Friday following the birthday party. After a couple of stormy days, the weather this evening was perfect, clear and fanned by a light breeze. Quite a few people mingled around them on the sidewalk.

It was the second Friday of the month, when many of the galleries and shops stayed open later for “2nd Friday Art Night,” some even serving wine and appetizers to draw in potential customers. Shannon tried to keep most second Friday nights open to enjoy the atmosphere and see what was new each month.

Music drifted from several of the bars and restaurants surrounding them. It wasn’t yet dark, but lights were already beginning to reflect across the surface of the fast-moving Arkansas River flowing adjacent to the Avenue. Between the buildings they passed, Shannon caught glimpses of the river and the thirty-three-acre Riverside Park. The park stretched eleven blocks and included playgrounds, a promenade lined with ten large sculptures and a blue-canopied, ten-thousand-seat riverside amphitheater in which a local band was performing to a smallish, but noisily enthusiastic audience. She’d attended several concerts there herself.

Yellow-and-red electric trolleys passed on the busy street. They carried tourists and locals alike to the hotels, bars, restaurants, shops and galleries, and on down the street to the Museum of Discovery, the Main Library, located in a renovated riverside warehouse, the Arkansas Studies Institute, with its impressive art gallery, and the Clinton Presidential Library at the end of the Avenue. Shannon’s nieces and nephews loved riding the trolley. She’d accompanied them several times on daytrips to the bustling farmer’s market and to the museums.

On the other side of the river sat the city of North Little Rock. Located along the north bank of the river were the busy minor-league baseball park, the almost-always-booked Verizon Arena, and the open-for-tours World War II submarine, the U.S.S. Razorback, which was the main draw of the Maritime Museum. She’d visited all of those attractions at some point, usually in the presence of various family members. High-rise buildings housing businesses and condos stabbed into the early-evening sky on both sides of the river.

Shannon loved the lakes, woods and hills of rural Arkansas, but she had to admit a weakness for this lively, bustling downtown area, as well. For a compulsive people-watcher like her, this was an ideal place to spend a leisurely Friday evening.

“This was a good idea,” James commented when they paused to admire the art displayed in a gallery window. “I haven’t spent much time in the River Market District since Ron moved out of his downtown condo and moved into Haley’s apartment last spring.”

She glanced at one of the old buildings ahead that had been converted into loft condominiums. “I was tempted to buy one of those cool lofts, but I decided to rent a house with my friend Devin, instead. We needed the extra storage room for party supplies and we can use the living room for meeting with clients.”

“So Devin is your business partner?”

“No. The business is mine. Devin’s a friend from school—well, she was in classes with my sister, Stacy, a couple of years ahead of me. She was looking for a roommate at about the time I decided to look for a house to rent, so Stacy suggested we move in together and it’s worked out very well. She helps me out with my party business in exchange for me paying a few dollars more on the rent. It works out for both of us.”

“Good for you.”

“I got two more bookings as a result of the Hayes party last weekend. Thanks again for the referral.”

“You’ve thanked me enough times for that. I really didn’t do that much.” He motioned around them at the many inviting doorways. “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go? Are you hungry?”

They’d agreed to meet in the parking lot behind the River Market Pavilion at six, giving them a couple of hours to explore the shops and galleries. “Not yet. Let’s go in here. I love this store.”

He followed her obligingly into a fair-market shop that sold items crafted by third world artisans. It was one of her favorite places to shop for gifts. Reasonably priced, unique merchandise, and she knew her money was put to good use. With James close behind her, she wandered through the shop, admiring the home-decor items, bags, jewelry and toys. Exotic music played from hidden speakers, promoting the CDs from around the world on sale near the cash register.

“You’re very tactile, aren’t you?” James commented, indicating that he’d been paying more attention to her than the merchandise.

Letting a handwoven scarf trail through her fingers, she smiled. “I am. I have to touch everything displayed in stores, especially anything that looks soft or silky or textured. It drives my sister crazy because it takes me twice as long as her to shop.”

He reached around her to pluck the colorful fringed scarf from the display peg, wrapping it around her shoulders like a jaunty shawl. “Looks good on you.”

She laughed softly and savored the feel of the fabric around her shoulders. In deference to the late-summer heat, she’d worn a sleeveless green cotton top with a flowing, midthigh-length patterned skirt and woven green flats. The green, red, yellow and purple striped scarf added a brightly bohemian touch to her outfit, and felt good against the artificially chilled air brushing her skin from an overhead vent.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I love picturing it on a loom in—” She checked the tag. “In Ecuador, with a skilled weaver choosing just the right threads and pattern.”