Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
ALLY
My resolution to forget the kiss only lasts until the evening, when I get my first glimpse of Drew Malone in a tuxedo.
He’s standing in the living room, waiting for me to get ready for the Spring Fling. He doesn’t see me right away because he’s scrolling on his phone, so I have a chance to take him in unobserved.
In my defense, I don’t think many resolutions—or many women—could withstand the sight of Drew Malone in a tuxedo.
It fits him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders, trim waist, and long legs.
He looks ready to star in one of those car commercials, where a hot guy drives an expensive car through an ancient European city at twilight.
I feel a flutter of desire in my lower belly.
“Hey, Ally.” He looks up from his phone and seems to freeze for a minute. I let myself imagine that he’s experiencing a reaction to me that’s similar to the reaction I just had to him.
I don’t dress up often, but I made an effort tonight.
My dress was a lucky find at a secondhand store—a pale pink sheath with spaghetti straps that fits like a glove.
I found the perfect strapless bra, with just enough padding to give the illusion of curves without feeling like false advertising.
My hair is down, with a couple of (fake) gold barrettes pulling it off my face.
I’m wearing contacts, and I even put on mascara and eyeliner.
“You look great, Ally,” Drew finally says.
“So do you.”
I wobble a little as I put on my shoes—I haven’t worn high heels in years—and Drew offers me his arm.
“Thanks.”
The Spring Fling is taking place at the Somerset Golf and Country Club, which is about fifteen minutes outside of the city. The banquet hall’s been decorated in pastels for the occasion, and it’s already pretty full when we arrive.
I hardly know anyone, but everyone seems to know Drew. There’s a steady stream of doctors and hospital executives who are eager to talk to him, and he introduces me to everyone as his girlfriend. Before long, my mind is swimming with names and faces.
“Please tell me there won’t be a test at the end,” I whisper to Drew between introductions. “I don’t think I can remember any more names.”
“Alexandra!”
I turn and see Heather Larkin approaching, wearing an apple-green dress with ruffles around her waist and hips.
“Hi, Heather,” I say, feeling relieved to see a familiar face.
“You look lovely,” she tells me, before turning to Drew. “And Dr. Malone. The two of you make a very attractive couple.”
“Thank you,” Drew replies.
“You realize you’re in my debt, right, Dr. Malone?” she teases. “For finding Alexandra.”
“You’re absolutely right, Heather,” he agrees easily. “If you ever start a matchmaking business, I’ll give a testimonial.”
It’s clear that wasn’t the answer Heather was expecting, but she laughs anyway. “I’ll keep that in mind. Well, I guess I should mingle.”
The seats for the dinner are assigned, and Drew and I end up at a table with the Tates.
Nina’s brought a date, a quiet young man named Everett Montgomery who’s introduced as a family friend.
There’s absolutely no chemistry between Nina and Everett; Nina’s clearly still interested in Drew, and Everett’s mostly interested in his phone.
“How’s your research going, Drew?” Nina asks, as the waiters bring out the salad course.
“Well, I took a bit of a break this past week,” he says, glancing at me. “Ally thought I was working too hard.”
Nina nods. “Self-care is very important.”
“Oh, I agree.” Drew’s tone is serious, but there’s a gleam of amusement in his dark eyes. His gaze catches mine, and I press my lips together to suppress a laugh.
Peter Tate smiles at me. “You seem to be a good influence on him, Ally.”
“I’m trying my best.”
As the waiters clear the first course, two women walk to the podium to award the door prizes.
We were given tear-off tickets at the door, and I pull mine out of my purse.
We watch as one of the cardiologists wins a ski weekend at Blue Mountain, and someone else wins dinner at a fancy restaurant downtown.
The last prize is a couple’s massage at The Glow Studio, an upscale spa not far from Drew’s condo. The woman at the podium reads the winning number, and I’m only off by one.
When no one claims the prize, she reads the number again. I realize Drew hasn’t been paying attention, and since my ticket was only one number off, he’s probably holding the winner.
I nudge his arm. “Hey, check your ticket. I think you won.”
He digs his ticket out of his pocket as the woman at the front reads the number for the third time.
“Oh, that’s me,” Drew says, standing up. There’s a chorus of applause and laughter as he walks to the front to collect the pink prize envelope.
“Your lucky day, huh, Drew?” Danielle Tate says when he returns to the table.
“Yep,” he agrees, although it’s clear he has no idea what he’s won. He opens the envelope and looks at the gift card. “The Glow Studio,” he murmurs. “A spa, right? I think this one’s for Ally.”
“I would think it’s for both of you,” Danielle teases.
“I would hope so,” I agree, as Drew slips the card back into the envelope and tucks it into my purse.
The waiter starts to serve the main course, and Drew leans over to ask me what he won.
“A couple’s massage,” I whisper.
“What?”
“A couple’s massage,” I repeat. “You go and get massages together. I’ll look into making an appointment.”
Drew’s eyes widen. “No. I mean—”
“Drew, have you had a chance to try the new Thai restaurant downtown?” Nina interrupts.
Drew gives me a look to let me know the massage conversation isn’t done, then turns to Nina. “No, would you recommend it?” he asks politely.
Nina chatters about restaurants for the rest of the meal, comparing places in Somerset to her favorites in Toronto and New York.
As the dessert course is ending, the speeches start.
The chair of the Hospital Foundation thanks everyone for coming, then the CEO makes a speech that’s heavy on clichés but light on substance.
He talks about teamwork, shared goals, and stepping stones, then meanders to an anecdote about a summer job he had as a teenager.
“Someone should have told him the secret to a good speech is to keep it short,” I whisper to Drew. “Leave the audience wanting more.”
“Good advice,” Drew says softly.
“Hopefully this’ll be the end of the speeches,” I murmur.
“I doubt we’ll be that lucky.”
And when the CEO finally wraps up his talk, he surprises me by introducing Drew, who strides briskly to the podium.
“The best advice I’ve ever received about making a speech is to keep it short,” he says, with an amused glance in my direction. “And I promise to try to do that tonight.”
The irony is, Drew looks so good up there that I’m sure a lot of people are hoping for a long speech.
“I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight,” he says.
“I know you’ve got a lot of demands on your time and your money, and we’re grateful you’ve chosen to support the hospital.
Most of the money we raise tonight will be used for a new, state of the art MRI scanner.
This is great news for our patients, because it will mean shorter wait times.
And it’s also great news for me, because I’ll get to look at better pictures. ”
There’s a smattering of laughter from the audience.
“The improved technology will allow us to make more accurate diagnoses,” Drew continues. “Your money will make a real difference. So thank you all again, and I hope you enjoy the evening.”
With that, he walks back to the table and sits back down next to me.
“I didn’t know you were making a speech,” I tell him.
“I didn’t either, until yesterday,” he says, rolling his eyes a little. “The head of the fundraising committee thought it was a good idea. She thought I’d resonate with the donors, whatever that means.”
All of a sudden, the music changes from muted classical to Beyonce’s ‘Crazy in Love.’ Apparently it’s time for the dance portion of the evening, and I notice a DJ set up in the corner of the dance floor.
He optimistically starts with fast tempo stuff, but when the dance floor fails to fill, he transitions to slow songs.
A few couples take the floor for ‘Always on My Mind,’ including Peter and Danielle Tate. And as soon as her parents leave the table, Nina inches her chair closer to Drew.
“I’ve always loved this song,” she says, putting her hand on his upper arm. “Dance with me, Drew.”
“I’m not much of a dancer, Nina.” Drew glances at Everett, hoping he’ll jump in and offer to dance with his date, but Everett keeps staring at his phone.
“Oh, come on, Drew,” Nina says. “You just have to stand there.”
So Drew lets her lead him onto the dance floor and puts his arms around her waist. The other couple at our table gets up as well, and I’m left sitting with Everett and his phone.
The DJ segues into Stephen Sanchez’s ‘Until I Found You,’ which is one of my favorite songs. Nina’s makes no move to release Drew, and I can tell she plans to dance this song with him too.
I try to convince myself it’s not a big deal.
It’s just a dance, and Drew’s doing a pretty good job of keeping Nina at arm’s length.
The important thing is that Drew will be going home with me at the end of the night.
Or, more accurately, I’ll be going home with him, but the end result will be the same.
But the sight of him on the dance floor with Nina still ignites a spark of jealousy low in my belly. Drew Malone is my date. One dance is fine, but it feels like Nina’s staking a claim with her second.
I take a sip of wine and gather my nerve, then thread my way through the dancers and tap Nina on the shoulder.
“Excuse me,” I say politely. “This is our song. Drew and I always dance it together.”
“Oh,” Nina says, and at first, I think she’s not going to give Drew up. “I thought—”
“And I think Everett’s looking for you,” I interrupt, because I don’t really care what she thought.
Nina reluctantly steps away, and I take her place. Drew’s hands go to my waist, sending a jolt of excitement down to my toes.
“Our song, huh?” he asks softly. “I didn’t know we had one.”
“We do now.” I take a step closer and twine my hands behind his neck. I expect him to step back, to try to keep me at arm’s length like he did with Nina, but he doesn’t.
He smells so good, like cedar and sandalwood, and it’s intoxicating. I take another step closer, closing the space between us. Again, I expect him to try to retreat, but he doesn’t.
So I turn my head and rest my cheek against his collar. His chest is warm and solid, and I let myself melt into him.
Something stirs against my lower belly, and I realize he’s hard. He relaxes his hold on my waist, giving me the freedom to step away if I want. I meet his eyes and see the unspoken question there. Do I want him to step back?
In response, I take a step closer, so I’m firmly pressed against his erection. Drew huffs out a ragged breath, and his hands tighten on my waist.
The song changes to ‘Moon River,’ slow and dreamy, and I let myself indulge in a fantasy. A dream in which Drew and I go back to his condo and tear the clothes off each other. A dream that ends in his bed.
A dream in which a hotshot neurosurgeon falls in love with an administrative assistant. For real.