Free The Doctor's Undoing by Gina Wilkins Page A

speakers, people milled about and talked and laughed, children dashed, squealing from one end to the other, some wearing Little League uniforms and carrying ball gloves. Scents of popcorn, cotton candy, hot dogs, barbecue and beer wafted past her nose, making her tummy rumble in response. Lunch had been a long time ago.
    â€œFood now, snacks later?” Ron asked.
    â€œSounds good to me.”
    They debated going into the bar and grill but decided to take food to their seats, instead. Part of the fun of eating at the ballpark was risking splattering food all over their clothes, Ron asserted with a grin. Because Haley was wearing a dark red, short-sleeve pullover with comfortable, dark wash jeans and red-and-black ballet slippers, she wasn’t overly worried about her clothes.
    She didn’t want to think about the ridiculous amount of time she had spent deciding what to wear, even though she’dhad less than an hour to get ready and change before Ron picked her up after work. The scoop-neck tee had been the third shirt she’d tried on. She’d settled on it finally because it was casual enough not to look as though she’d put too much thought into her clothing choice, yet still fitted enough to flatter, something her feminine ego had demanded. Though Ron hadn’t commented on her outfit, she thought she’d seen appreciation in his eyes when she’d opened her door to him.
    He looked darned good, himself, in a loose-fitting, soft green Hawaiian print shirt and khaki cargo shorts with sandals. His sandy hair was tousled around his face, making him look young and sporty and appealing. Though no one would call him a “pretty boy,” he looked more like an athlete or a male model than an aspiring doctor, definitely attractive enough to pose for one of those beach ads in a travel magazine. She was aware of the attention he received from young women milling around the concourse while they ordered their food.
    The thing was, Ron seemed almost oblivious to his attraction, she reflected, settling into her comfortable green plastic box seat with her hot dog and bottled water. He’d made a few joking remarks about James’s classically handsome face—to James’s embarrassment and everyone else’s amusement—but Haley had never seen an ounce of vanity in Ron, himself. He dressed casually, cared nothing about designer names, wore a practical, inexpensive watch, favored comfort over fashion in his shoes.
    He’d mentioned that he’d grown up without much money, so he’d never gotten spoiled to the finer things in life, but she doubted that money would change him much. Ron just wasn’t in “the game,” as she thought of it—that constant striving to impress, to possess, to accumulate. She’d always admired that about him, having little interest in those things, herself.
    Her own family had struggled financially when her father had been laid off from his job while she was a freshman inhigh school. He’d taken the opportunity to fulfill a lifelong dream and open a little Italian restaurant, and Haley had dedicated herself to helping her parents make that dream pay off, working long, unpaid hours in the restaurant after school and on holidays and for two years after her high school graduation. Her parents would never get rich with their establishment, but they had the satisfaction of making a decent living with it now and having a loyal and appreciative customer base. She was so proud of them for following their dreams, just as they had encouraged her to do.
    â€œHow’s your hot dog?” Ron asked, looking up from his nachos loaded with cheese, peppers and barbecued pork.
    She swallowed a bite of all-beef frank, bun and mustard and then smiled. “It’s delicious. Hot dogs always taste best at a ballpark. How’s your heart-attack-in-a-bowl?”
    Laughing, he scooped up more melted yellow cheese onto an already-loaded tortilla