The Marriage Portrait

She nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Perfection is never easy to achieve.”

“And you strive for perfection when you paint?”

“Oh, it’s not my work that is perfect. It’s my subjects. Trying to reproduce beauty is in many ways a challenge, too.”

“Then we have something in common, don’t we?”

“Professionally, anyway.”

“What about the personal Cassie? What does she like to do when she’s not meeting the frustrating challenges of capturing beauty?”

“My art is my life,” she answered with a candor that surprised him. He expected some flirtatious banter, but instead she was sincere. “That doesn’t mean I work twenty-four hours a day,” she was quick to add. “But I do tend to get so involved with a project that I lose track of time.”

“That sounds like a warning.”

She smiled, another furtive grin. “Now why would I need to warn you, Dr. Mac?”

“Maybe because you know that all evening I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to finally come sit in that chair.”

She lifted both brows in a provocative invitation. “I’m here.”

“Yes, and I’m glad.” He leaned closer to her so that only she would hear his next words. “I’ve always thought dessert was the best part of a meal.” She laughed, a wonderful, throaty sound that did funny things to Michael’s insides.

“Then we have something else in common, don’t we?” she said, and picked up her fork and cut into the slice of cheesecake.

“Oh, I think we might have a quite a few things in common,” he said.

“Such as?”

“A mutual love of nature.”

“And how do you know I love nature?”

“You do, don’t you?”

She smiled. “Yes, but doesn’t everyone?”

“Not the way you and I do. Others see rain and think it’s a nuisance. You and I don’t see rain. We smell it. We taste it. We hear it. We feel it.”

“Are you sure you’re a doctor and not a poet?” She reached for her water glass. Before she could raise it to her lips, he tapped it with his. “To challenge.”

She clinked her glass against his and smiled that provocative grin of hers. “To challenge.”

He couldn’t believe how well things were going. She again asked him about his work and he entertained her with anecdotes from the clinic. It was as if the other six people ceased to exist. All he wanted was to hear that luscious, sultry voice of hers and see that sly, flirtatious smile.

Then his pager buzzed again.

“Oh-oh. Looks like Dr. Mac in on call,” she remarked.

He pushed his sport coat aside and reached for the electronic device. It was his escape route. Only now he didn’t need or want a way out of the dinner.

“I think this thing is malfunctioning,” he told her, clicking the button that revealed Tabitha’s number. “I’m getting a scrambled message.”

“Do you need to check with your service?”

“No, it’s all right. I’m sure it was nothing.” But only a few minutes later the pager buzzed again. As he read Tabitha’s number, he wondered why she hadn’t given up? Surely she could figure out that if he hadn’t answered the pager, it meant he was having a good time and didn’t need to make his escape?

“You have to go, don’t you?” Cassie said, the disappointment in her voice making it all the more difficult to leave.

He wanted to ignore the page, but he also knew that it could very well be an emergency. In all good conscience, he couldn’t disregard any attempt that might be a call for help. Reluctantly he folded his napkin and laid it on the table.

“I’d better go check and make sure this isn’t something important. Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.”

Instead of going out to the car to use his cell phone, he used the pay phone in the lobby. He punched in the seven digits of Tabitha’s home phone number.

He knew she had caller ID when she said, “How come you’re calling from a pay phone?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring the cell phone into the restaurant.”

“Well, for someone who was itching to get out of dinner, it sure took you a long time to answer your page.”

He didn’t want to tell her that he’d met Cassie and was no longer in a hurry to make a hasty departure from the dinner.

“Mookie’s in labor and it doesn’t look good. I think she needs a cesarean.”

Mookie was Tabitha’s mother’s schnauzer. “You’ve seen her?”

“Mom brought her over here because she was acting strange. I put her in the basement and left her alone, but it’s obvious she’s having big troubles, Mac. You’d better hurry.”

“I’m on my way,” he told her, then hung up the phone. He hurried back to the private dining room and bent so that he could speak to Cassie.

“I have to go. It’s an emergency.”

“Another challenge?”

“Yes, but I’d much prefer the one right here,” he said softly. “I’d like to get to know Cassie the artist. Maybe we could do that when there weren’t so many people around?” He could see the curious glance of Sharon the nurse and didn’t doubt for a moment that she was straining to hear every word of their private conversation.

Coyly, Cassie answered, “You know the rules, Dr. Mac.”

“Call Claudia at Dinner Date,” he stated in understanding. “You can be sure I will.” Then he made a formal apology to the group and left.

As he drove the distance to Tabitha’s home, his thoughts were of Cassie the artist. First thing Monday morning he was going to call Dinner Date. He definitely wanted to get to know her better. And judging by the way she had smiled, she wanted the same thing. Oh, Tessie was going to be happy.

“CASSIE, IT’S CLAUDIA. If you’re there, pick up.”

Normally Cassandra Carrigan didn’t answer her phone when she was in her studio, but she’d been having difficulty concentrating on her work all morning and the call was a distraction she welcomed. She set her paintbrush aside and reached for the telephone.

“I’m here. What’s up?” she asked, dispensing with the routine hello. She and Claudia had been friends far too long to worry about greetings.