the place was chaotic—she hadn’t realized so much criminal activity was going on in this adopted city of hers. She waited in line for twenty-five minutes to talk to an imposed-upon middle-aged man with eyebrows so bushy she couldn’t help but stare.
“May I help you?” he barked.
“I’m looking for Officer Ken Medlock.”
He looked her up and down, then gave her the most curious smile. “Is this about a police matter?”
Georgia glanced down at her white uniform, a fitted skirt and tailored blouse—she’d wanted to look her best this morning for her expected dressing-down from Dr. Story. Her hair was pulled back into a tight, rolled bun. She’d forgotten to remove her stethoscope, but otherwise she failed to see the humor in her appearance. “No, my business is personal.”
His remarkable eyebrows climbed. “Oh?” Then his eyes widened. “ Oh. Just a moment.” He picked up the phone and spoke into it, then hung up, grinning. “Right this way.”
She followed the man through a maze of hallways and bullpens, but grew increasingly uncomfortable when she realized they were picking up a crowd of officers along the way. What the devil was going on?
“Ken,” the man bellowed. “Happy Birthday, man!”
Ken Medlock turned, caught her eye, then unfolded himself slowly from his desk, his face a mask of surprise. Georgia swallowed in dismay—the man was just as attractive as she remembered, darn it. His hair looked as if he’d been running his hands through it. Lucky hands.
“Well?” The bushy-eyebrowed man gestured toward her. “Didn’t you bring your own music?”
She squinted at the man. Was he senile?
“What’s going on?” Ken asked the people circling around.
“Klone got you a stripper for your birthday!” the man shouted. The group broke into raucous applause and whoops of encouragement.
Georgia froze. A stripper? They thought she was a stripper? She glared at Ken, whose eyes bugged, although he clearly wasn’t as bothered by the idea as she.
She crossed her arms and mouthed, “Do something.”
“Time out, guys,” he shouted, T-ing his hands. When everyone quieted, he said, “Miss Adams here is a registered nurse at County.”
Shocked silence fell around them. The man who had greeted her mumbled an apology, then melted away with the rest of the shuffling group. Her skin tingled with embarrassment and she was certain her cheeks were scarlet. Were her encounters with this man destined to be awkward?
When they were alone by his desk, he wiped an amused smile from his face with his hand. “Hi.”
She was considerably less amused. “Hello.”
“Sorry about that, ma’am. The guys around here can get a little carried away. Do you want some coffee or something?”
Oh, that “ma’am” thing was killing her. She wet her lips. “No. I came to give you a phone number.”
His grin curled halfway up his handsome face.
“Not mine,” she said with a frown. Polite, presumptuous beast. “I saw a flyer advertising a lost dog that sounded like the one you hit.”
“Accidentally,” he added wryly.
“Whatever,” she said, fishing in her purse to retrieve the scrap of paper she’d written on. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
He didn’t look too grateful, though. “Did you take him to the animal shelter?”
“No, I took him home with me.”
She blinked in surprise. “Oh. Well. How nice.”
“Did I get you in trouble at the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry about that, ma’am.”
“No, you’re not. I told you plainly I wasn’t allowed to tend the dog, but you wouldn’t leave.”
“He might have died.”
She shook her head. “Look, I like dogs as much as the next person, but how would you feel if you came into the E.R. with a heart attack and saw a dog lying in the bed next to yours?”
“That depends. Are you my nurse?”
“Goodbye, Officer Medlock.”
“Wait. I was about to go on break. Want to grab a bite to eat?”
She did need to eat before going on