Triplets for The Millionaire - K.C. Crowne Page 0,50

to imagine the clinic getting the funding it needed so the staff and I would be able to re-do the building, to fill it with new equipment. It would be the cornerstone of the neighborhood becoming something new and great. And more than that, I’d be able to give the people here the care they needed but couldn’t afford.

It was a fantasy I was happy to let myself get lost in. I loved working at Pitt Medical, but the clinic satisfied me intrinsically. Patrick or no, the clinic needed investment. We wouldn’t be able to do it on our own.

I parked in the small lot next to the clinic and stepped out into the cold, pulling my coat tight against the chill wind. Seconds later I was in the lobby of the clinic, the place abuzz with activity. However, there was no one at the front desk.

“Shit,” I hissed under my breath. The reason no one was at the front was simple – we relied on volunteers to run this place. Volunteers had their own lives that took priority over putting in pro-bono time at a clinic in the bad part of town.

A dozen or so people were in the waiting room, all of them noticing my white doctor’s coat under my jacket and looking to me with expectant eyes. Before any of them could say a word to me, the door leading to the back rooms opened. The man who appeared was a familiar face – Dr. Ryan Anderson. He looked as good as ever, tall and handsome and clean-cut, not a hair out of place.

“Alright,” he said, glancing down at a tablet in his hands. “Mr. Gutierrez?”

On the far side of the room a man stood up, an adorable little girl with dark hair and pig tails and a Dora the Explorer T-shirt on her tiny frame. The father said something to the girl, who nodded, followed by a dry, hacking cough. The sight of the sick little girl was enough to break my heart. But as they headed toward Dr. Anderson, relief took hold knowing she was going to get the care she needed.

Ryan led them through the door, leaning over and saying something to the girl that made her laugh. Then he put his hand on her shoulder and pointed down the hall. The father shook Ryan’s hand, and the pair headed down to whatever doctor they had an appointment with.

“Didn’t know receptionist work was part of being an OB/GYN,” I teased as I approached him.

He chuckled wryly before glancing down at the tablet. “Tara called thirty minutes before open today, said her five-year-old wasn’t feeling well. I happened to be in the area, which means…”

“You got pressed into desk duty.”

“Hey, it needs to get done.”

Ryan was a good guy through and through. I’d met more than my share of arrogant doctors over the years, men and women who would’ve scoffed at the mere suggestion of doing reception work. Not Ryan, he, like the other doctors who volunteered at the clinic, did what needed to be done to make the place work.

“I appreciate it.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said. “And it’s good you’re here – I’ve cleared your morning to meet with the investor.”

“Investor? As in singular?”

He nodded. “The others needed to reschedule, but one of them still wanted to come in.”

Please don’t be Patrick, please don’t be Patrick.

The door behind me opened with a chime. I turned to see none other than the man himself. And he was all smiles. He strode into the place, his camera messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He wore a slate gray suit with a blue tie, his shoes snazzy-looking ink-black loafers. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of Wayfarers.

Of course, he had to look good as hell.

“Gooood mornin’,” he said as he stepped into the lobby.

“Mr. O’Conner,” Ryan greeted him with a smile. “Good to see you again.”

I was momentarily stuck between two extremely good-looking men with panty-dropping accents.

“Likewise, Dr. Anderson. And please – just Patrick.”

I wasn’t prepared in the slightest for what he did next. Instead of shaking my hand, or even just greeting me, Patrick leaned close and planted a kiss on my cheek. And not a polite kiss, either. This kiss was one you’d give your girlfriend after not seeing her all day.

I was stunned, my eyes widening, my body frozen in place. And judging by the look on Ryan’s face, he felt the same way.

“Good to see you, love,” Patrick said, keeping the