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All the way down the jetway, I struggled to get past the heat I could still feel on my cheeks. Logically, I knew the real reason I was this angry and embarrassed had more to do with the conference we were leaving and the disagreement I’d had with Dr. Donaldson than the entitled white dude cutting in the boarding line. But the face I kept hating on was his, dark hair, good looks and all. After all, I didn’t know who exactly was on the committee that had decided our paper wasn’t good enough to present, and I knew exactly what Mr. Platinum Member looked like. Why did he look familiar?
“Are you okay?” Dr. Donaldson asked.
“Yep.” My clipped answer would have told anyone else that the exact opposite was true. Dr. Donaldson took it at face value.
A people person, Dr. Donaldson was not. Which was fine. I didn’t need that in a mentor.
Besides, I’d just peopled all over the place, and look where it had gotten me. This PI job—a research position—was exactly what I’d need. Less messy. Perfect.
Finally the line in front of us moved. I resisted the urge to scan the business class through the open curtain to my left. Surely Mr. Platinum Member was safely ensconced away from the unwashed masses, and I wouldn’t have to deal with or see him again. With any luck, Philly was a layover for him on his way to somewhere else—but Philly was big enough that even if he lived there, I’d never see him. Unless he ended up with a rare bacterial infection.
I followed the line marching slowly down the aisle to my row—and stopped short.
Mr. Platinum Member sat there—inmyseat—reading a book. His computer case lay in the middle seat.
I glanced back at Dr. Donaldson, but he was finding an empty spot for our bags in the overhead compartments.
“Excuse me,” I said, apparently my favorite way to greet Mr. Platinum Member.
He looked up. The instant he saw my face, the eager light in his eyes faded. “Can I help you?” He still offered a smile.
If he could be civil, so could I. “That’s my seat.”
“What is?”
Did he really not understand? I gestured at the seats he was occupying with his body and his bag.
Almost comically clueless, he looked at his computer case. After waiting for far too long, I reached into the row and pulled down the armrest from where it had been tucked between the seatbacks to divide his spot from the middle seat.
Mr. Platinum Member licked his bottom lip. “Ah. Sorry.” He grabbed his computer case and stowed it underneath the seat in front of him.
“No,” I started, but Mr. Platinum Member pointed behind me.
“I think you’re holding up the line.”
First, do no harmwas not actually part of the Hippocratic oath, and I was mightily tempted, but I managed to restrain myself.
“Do you want me to sit in the middle?” Dr. Donaldson murmured.
Mr. Platinum Member had already made a fool of me twice when I was trying to do the right thing. I was not about to let him get the best of me. “Nope, thanks.” I’d had worse patients. I could put up with anyone for a few hours. Besides that, I couldn’t see these two broad-shouldered men sharing these narrow seats comfortably. I settled in the middle seat and studiously avoided Mr. Platinum Member’s gaze.
I was not expecting my stomach and heart to betray me with an attack of nerves just being so close to someone that attractive. Our elbows brushed on the armrest and I jumped at the contact with his shirtsleeve, warm and soft.
No, I couldn’t lose my head like this. I bent down to stuff my own computer bag under the chair in front of me, and Mr. Platinum Member reached over me to shake Dr. Donaldson’s hand. “Davis,” Mr. Platinum Member introduced himself.
“Adam,” Dr. Donaldson said. “And this is Cassidy.”
Hearing Dr. Donaldson’s first name was always weird. In fact,myfirst name sounded weird coming from him. Really, no one called me by my full name—but I was not about to let this Davis dude use my nickname either. “Or Dr. Croft.”
“Where are you headed?” Davis asked.
“Philadelphia.” Dr. Donaldson managed to make the word polite while also pointing out that the answer was obvious.
“Oh, do you live there?”
We both offered civil nods. In addition to cutting people off who’d been waiting in line, Davis was apparently one of those misanthropes who would spend a five-hour flight chatting with a stranger.
Most women wouldn’t complain about sitting between two attractive men for five hours, but I didn’t relish the idea of dealing with tall, dark and arrogant Davis further. Nor did I trust my brain and body not to betray me with someone so attractive who I didnotwant to date. I turned to Dr. Donaldson—another attractive man I didn’t want to date.
