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in a navy golf shirt and khaki slacks, stride up to the tee. He chose a driver from his bag and winked at Dan. “Old Nate and I have a bet on who makes the longest drive. The loser pays for dinner.”
    Barbara leaned into Nathan. “Old Nate, huh?”
    Ian’s date giggled adoringly. Nora rested her hand on Dan’s arm. Paige felt unaccountably lonely as she watched Ian, head down, face fierce with concentration, swing the club. The ball soared out of sight.
    Nathan snorted. “I’ll be paying.” He turned to Dan. “Join us for dinner?”
    “We were eating here, anyway.” Dan looked to the women. Nora nodded.
    Paige balked. For some reason the thought of watching Miss America fawn over Ian all night had ruined her appetite. “Why don’t you two go ahead. I’ve got some work—”
    Nora frowned. “Oh, no, you said you’d have dinner with us. I was looking forward to it.”
    “I—”
    Ian slid his club into his golf bag. “I’ll think it’s because of me that you’re opting out.” His charm was oozing today.
    “No, of course it’s not.”
Liar
.
    He gave her a boyish grin. “Well, then?”
    “Fine, I’ll stay.”
    Purposely she turned away and turned off the unfamiliar emotion she was experiencing by mentally planning her week ahead. Work was always a good distraction when she didn’t like what she was feeling.
    o0o
    IT WAS AT DINNER that an odd thing happened. They’d just ordered their meals—Ian and Paige both picked the stuffed flounder and a light chardonnay—when Nathan proposed a toast. “To the Elsa Moore Center. And the two doctors who are going to make it work.”
    In the process of reaching for her wineglass, Nora repeated, “
Two
doctors?” Obviously startled, she knocked over her drink. Dan, openmouthed, began mopping it up. Something had clearly surprised the older couple.
    “Paige?” Nora said. “Are
you
going to work there?”
    “Where?” Missy asked.
    “At the Center for young mothers and their babies,” Ian announced proudly. “We have a physician’s assistant, an internist, me, of course, and Paige has agreed to be our pediatrician.”
    “The Center is Ian’s pet project,” Nathan explained.
    “Yes, I realize that.” Nora’s voice was grave. “But I didn’t know...Paige, dear, when did you become involved?”
    Ian glanced at Paige, noticed the grim set of her lips.
    “Ian charmed her into it, most likely,” Nathan put in.
    “I did.” Ian sensed Nora’s unease. “You seem surprised, Nora.”
    She looked at Dan.
    “It’s just that Paige is always so busy,” Dan said, rescuing his fiancée.
    “Don’t give her ideas.” Nathan scowled. “Ian needs her.”
    Ian was still pondering their strange reaction when the harried-looking manager rushed to their table. “Dr. Kendrick? Dr. Chandler? We need your help. There was a fire in the kitchen and people got burned.”
    Paige and Ian exchanged a quick look and were out of their seats before the manager finished.
    Paige said, “Let’s go.” On the way she asked, “Who was hurt?”
    “Two of our staff were burned. They don’t want to go to the hospital but—”
    “We’ll determine that,” Ian said easily.
    In tandem, Paige and Ian strode through the dining room toward the back of the club. “Any expertise in burns?” Ian asked.
    “A lot. Kids are like moths to flames.”
    “Good. I’m a rookie in burn treatment. Pregnant women stay away from fires.”
    Inside, amidst the scents of cooking meat and baking bread, the kitchen was hushed. “They don’t want to go to the hospital,” the manager repeated.
    “Let’s have a look.” Ian ushered Paige in front of him.
    Stepping up to the male victim, Paige frowned. “Take the ice off the burn immediately.”
    “I told you to use butter,” a woman on the side muttered and reached for the tub.
    Ian stopped her. “No butter, either. Ice can cause tissue damage and any ointment or butter traps heat in the burn.”
    Paige inspected the man’s arms. Both