Doctors in the Wedding
“Of course. Everyone’s been toasting us, and telling us how great we look and how much they look forward to all the wedding festivities. I have to admit, I’m digging this bride thing. You probably aren’t surprised to hear that I’m loving the attention.”
Laughing, Madison shook her head. “Not at all surprised. But I’m delighted for you, Beebs. You deserve all the happiness you and Carl will have together.”
“Aw, thanks, Maddie.”
“So, what about Corinna? Has the alien princess captured her reluctant prince’s heart this evening?”
BiBi’s dreamy smile dipped into a scowl. “We haven’t even seen him tonight. I guess he decided not to come, or he got tied up at work or something. I thought he said he was staying here at the hotel to avoid having to commute back and forth from his condo on the other side of Dallas, but maybe he changed his mind, or isn’t checking in until tomorrow. Corinna’s disappointed, even if she is getting plenty of attention from other guys, and even though she’s pretty sure nothing’s going to happen, anyway. Maybe instead of encouraging her, I should be advising her to give up and try to find someone else. I worry that she’s going to get her heart broken.”
“I hate to say this, but it sounds to me as if he’s just not that into her. I mean, that’s what he told her, right?”
BiBi sighed. “Yeah. But this weekend could be the perfect chanc
e for him to change his mind if he and Corinna spend some quality time together, you know?”
“I think it’s very sweet that you’re looking out for your sister,” Madison answered diplomatically. “I also think you’re seeing the world through very romantic eyes right now, understandably so.”
“Maybe you’re right. As a matter of fact,” BiBi added with a giggle, “there’s someone I want you to meet. I think he’s just your type. I can’t wait to introduce you.”
Wouldn’t it be interesting if the man BiBi had in mind was dressed as Indiana Jones tonight? Because, talk about her type…
“His name is Allen,” BiBi added with a toss of her ponytail.
Madison told herself she wasn’t disappointed. Of all the men in attendance at tonight’s party, what were the odds that Jason would have been the match BiBi had chosen for her?
Three women in colorful costumes swept into the restroom before Madison could politely assert that she wasn’t looking for a fix-up while she was in town. Descending on the stalls and mirrors, the newcomers greeted BiBi, who introduced them all to Madison. Their conversation effectively at an end, Madison and BiBi then headed back to the party.
Madison scanned for a battered fedora as soon as she entered the raucous ballroom. A squarely built soldier in a red coat, ruffled shirt, khaki breeches and a white, ponytailed wig stepped into her path, blocking her view. He studied her with bright blue eyes as he asked BiBi, “Who is this lovely lady with you this evening, Lady BiBi? Can you wrinkle your genie nose and convince her to give me a dance?”
Laughing at his foolishness, BiBi slapped the man’s arm playfully. “Allen, you’re so silly. We were just talking about you. Maddie, this is Carl’s cousin, Allen Burleson. Allen, this is Dr. Madison Baker, one of my dearest friends since college.”
Sweeping his tricorn hat into a deep bow, Allen grinned up at Madison. “Delighted to meet you. May I have the pleasure of this dance?”
Calling on the manners her mother had drilled into her from birth, Madison smiled brightly and gave him her full attention, rather than continuing to search the room as she was tempted to do. “Of course.”
The music was still fast and frantic, another novelty Halloween pop tune, but easy enough to dance to. Madison figured she could make a decent showing even in the ridiculously high heels BiBi had lent her.
“You’re dressed as a fortune-teller tonight, aren’t you?” Allen asked as he escorted her to the center of the dance floor.
“Yes. And you’re a British soldier. A redcoat.”
“That I am, my lady.” He chuckled and fixed his tricorn on his head, skewing the wig just a little. Managing not to wince at his very bad British accent, Madison thought wistfully of a weathered, wide-brimmed hat, resisting a renewed impulse to take just a quick peek around the room.
“So what’s your prediction for me?” he asked, leaning toward her to be heard over the music, his body beginning to jerk in a rather awkward man-dance.
Smiling, she swayed in time to the rhythm, eyeing his uniform meaningfully. “You’re going to lose.”
Allen heaved a heavy sigh. “The story of my life,” he said, mock mournfully.
He seemed very pleasant. Nice-looking, too. But her pulse didn’t race with his smiles, nor did she get weak-kneed at the thought of dancing closely to him. Maybe it was because of their more traditional introduction. Maybe had she met Jason the same way, he’d have seemed no more mysterious and fascinating to her than Allen. But then she pictured his gleaming eyes and flashing smile.
Okay, maybe not. Maybe Jason was every bit as compelling as he’d seemed.
Jason D’Alessandro felt as though he had two choices. He could head for the door and slip out of the party early, or hang around a little while longer in hopes of running into the fascinating gypsy again. He’d been pretty much pounced upon by Carl and his other friends the minute he’d walked back into the ballroom after eating, and he hadn’t been able to make a graceful escape since.
Across the room, Corinna caught his eye, smiled weakly, then turned away to continue a highly animated conversation with a woman dressed in a leopard-print catsuit. He sighed. That situation was truly awkward. He was fond of Corinna, but that was all there was to it. He couldn’t foresee his feelings ever developing into more, as he had made it clear to her in as tactful and considerate a manner as possible a couple of weeks ago. That conversation had surely been as painful for him as it had for her, and he still fretted about whether he’d chosen the right words. He just hoped she would finally accept the facts without being hurt—and without putting a wedge between two families who’d been connected for much longer than either of them had been alive.
He was tired. The booming music, mostly novelty Halloween tunes, was starting to give him a headache. At thirty, he was approximately the same age as the other party guests, but he was beginning to think he was too old for keg-and-costume parties.