hit him squarely. One of the men, the one wearing the blue suspenders, snorted.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” Conner said. “But I saw you were all reading Smilla’s Sense of Snow and I wondered if I might join you?”
“Don’t see why not,” Suspenders said. “Group’s open to the public. Pull up a chair.”
He did, making sure to smile and act harmless, choosing the chair next to Gillian’s. He gave her a friendly nod. “Thank you.”
She shrugged noncommittally. “Suit yourself.” Then she went back to using the matchbook as a toothpick.
“I’m Conner Malloy,” he said, facing her, although he looked at the others briefly. “I’m new here. Just visiting for a week or so.”
“Yeah?” Gillian asked. He supposed she could sound less interested, but he couldn’t see how.
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve come on a research trip. Your Mr. Johnson has some medical antiques that have captured my interest.”
“Why? You like to operate with old tools?”
He broadened his grin. “No. But I am interested in medical history. I’m writing a book about it.”
“Where are you from, Dr. Malloy?” the blonde asked, her fingers still flying.
As if she didn’t know. “Houston.”
“Y’all are just in time for the big parade next Sunday.”
“Parade?”
“Haven’t you heard?” she asked, her gaze on her knitting. “Gillian Bates saved a little boy’s life just last week. He was chokin’ and she just squeezed him and he spit the toy truck right on out. The boy was blue, they say. Two hairs from gone over.”
“That’s very impressive,” he said, nodding again at Gillian. “That Heimlich maneuver can be tricky. I’m glad to know it worked out so well.”
“Yep,” the blonde said. “She’s a real live heroine, and we’re givin’ her a dinner dance and a parade to mark it.”
“Sounds exciting,” he said. “Like something I shouldn’t miss.”
Gillian looked at him funny as he leaned in toward her.
“Of course I don’t know anyone here,” he said, trying not to scare her. “But maybe you don’t have an escort yet?”
Her eyes practically popped out of her head. “Me?”
He nodded. “I noticed you like bingo,” he said, racking his brain for something logical to say. “And cats.”
“That I do,” she said, and he thought she might be smiling, but he couldn’t be sure.
“I admire cats,” he said. “And I used to play bingo when I was at summer camp.”
“I see,” she said. “So that’s why you want to take me to the dinner dance?”
His own smile faltered a little. “Well, sure. Why not?”
“Uh, Doc,” the blonde said, her smile wide enough to show her dental work, “you—”
“Hush up, Shirley. I’m trying to think.”
“But—”
“Shhh,” Suspenders hissed. He was grinning, too.
Gillian looked around the table, then back at him. “Why not, Doc? I don’t have any prior commitments.”
He sighed his relief. One down, and now he didn’t even have to take her out on a date first. With any luck, he wouldn’t even have to see her until the dance.
Gillian looked up, past his head, to something behind him. He turned to face a beautiful young woman. She had long blond hair, big blue eyes that gleamed with humor, and a lovely pink mouth turned up into a bright smile.
“Hello,” he said as his gaze moved down in a quick once-over. The rest of her was as attractive as her face.
“Hello,” she said in a voice that made him think of spun sugar.
“This here’s Doc Malloy,” the blonde said. “He’s coming to the dinner dance.”
“So I heard,” the woman said. “That’s lovely.”
“He’s my date,” Gillian announced.
“I heard that, too. That’s wonderful. I know you’ll both have a terrific time.” Then she held her hand out to him, and he saw her fingernails were painted pink. “I’m Gillian Bates,” she said.
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