“Yes. What about him?”
Grundy said, “Well, I…God, this is embarrassing. He bet some of the doctors five thousand dollars that he could get you into bed in the next thirty days.”
Kat’s face was grim. “He did, did he?”
Grundy said piously, “I don’t blame you for being angry. It made me sick when I heard about it. Well, I just wanted to warn you. He’ll be asking you out, and I thought it was only right that you should know why he was doing it.”
“Thanks,” Kat said. “I appreciate your telling me.”
“It was the least I could do.”
They watched Grundy leave.
In the corridor outside the cafeteria, the other residents were waiting for him.
“How did it go?” they asked.
Grundy laughed. “Perfect. She’s as mad as hell. The son of a bitch is dead meat!”
At the table, Honey was saying, “I think that’s just terrible.”
Kat nodded. “Someone should give him a dick-otomy. They’ll be ice skating in hell before I go out with that bastard.”
Paige sat there thinking. After a moment, she said, “You know something, Kat? It might be interesting if you did go out with him.”
Kat looked at her in surprise. “What?”
There was a glint in Paige’s eye. “Why not? If he wants to play games, let’s help him—only he’ll play our game.”
Kat leaned forward. “Go on.”
“He has thirty days, right? When he asks you out, you’ll be warm and loving and affectionate. I mean, you’ll be absolutely crazy about the man. You’ll drive him out of his mind. The only thing you won’t do, bless your heart, is to go to bed with him. We’ll teach him a five-thousand-dollar lesson.”
Kat thought of her stepfather. It was a way of getting revenge. “I like it,” Kat said.
“You mean you’re going to do it?” Honey said.
“I am.”
And Kat had no idea that with those words, she had signed her death warrant.
Chapter Sixteen
Jason Curtis had been unable to get Paige Taylor out of his mind. He telephoned Ben Wallace’s secretary. “Hi. This is Jason Curtis. I need a home telephone number for Dr. Paige Taylor.”
“Certainly, Mr. Curtis. Just a moment.” She gave him the number.
Honey answered the telephone. “Dr. Taft.”
“This is Jason Curtis. Is Dr. Taylor there?”
“No, she’s not. She’s on call at the hospital.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.”
Honey could hear the disappointment in his voice. “If it’s some kind of emergency, I can…”
“No, no.”
“I could take a message for her and have her call you.”
“That will be fine.” Jason gave her his telephone number.
“I’ll give her the message.”
“Thank you.”
“Jason Curtis called,” Honey said when Paige returned to the apartment. “He sounded cute. Here’s his number.”
“Burn it.”
“Aren’t you going to call him back?”
“No. Never.”
“You’re still hung up on Alfred, aren’t you?”
“Of course not.”
And that was all Honey could get out of her.
Jason waited two days before he called again.
This time Paige answered the telephone. “Dr. Taylor.”
“Hello there!” Jason said. “This is Dr. Curtis.”
“Doctor…?”
“You may not remember me,” Jason said lightly. “I was on rounds with you the other day, and I asked you to have dinner with me. You said—”
“I said I was busy. I still am. Goodbye, Mr. Curtis.” She slammed the receiver down.
“What was that all about?” Honey asked.
“About nothing.”
At six o’clock the following morning, when the residents gathered with Paige for morning rounds, Jason Curtis appeared. He was wearing a white coat.
“I hope I’m not late,” he said cheerfully. “I had to get a white coat. I know how upset you get when I don’t wear one.”
Paige took a deep, angry breath. “Come in here,” she said. She led Jason into the deserted doctors’ dressing room. “What are you doing here?”
“To tell you the truth, I’ve been worried about some of the patients we saw the other day,” he said earnestly. “I came to see if everyone is all right.”
The man was infuriating.
“Why aren’t you out building something?”
Jason looked at her and said quietly, “I’m trying to.” He pulled out a handful of tickets. “Look, I don’t know what your tastes are, so I got tickets for tonight’s Giants game, the theater, the opera, and a concert. Take your choice. They’re nonrefundable.”