Billionaire's Second Chance Triplets(4)

By: Ella Brooke


Kit reached the entrance where several groups of people had paused to socialize before entering. Or just to block the doorway. She smoothed a hand down the blue-grey satin gown and sighed softly. She couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. She had no money to donate, obviously, as the firm had paid for her and the other associates’ tickets, and she couldn’t compete with professionally done hairstyles and the showers of precious gems adorning the women here. Kit had simply swept her hair into a French twist. She’d added some sparkle with her necklace and a champagne-colored shawl, but there was no hiding that Kit was more suited to pantsuits than ball gowns.

That was the story of her life, though. Years of feeling out of place, years of covering with a calm sense of control. There was nothing to be done about it. She had volunteered for this, and she would do her job.

Kit put on a pleasant smile and set to work moving her way through the crowd, occasionally stopping to have polite conversation with a few faces she remembered from the medical community.

“It’s been so long! You’re so grown up!”

“How’s Catherine doing? It’s so busy. We hardly ever get to see each other anymore.”

“How’s the law turning out for you? I always thought it was a shame you didn’t go into medicine with your mother.”

And so on. The themes were the same as they had always been. With most of the specialties, surgeons in particular, no job was as good as theirs. It was medicine or bust.

Kit didn’t have any problem with medicine, but it simply hadn’t been for her. It wasn’t like the career path she’d chosen was that much easier. It just involved less scrubbing and fewer deaths.

Reaching the opposite end of the room, Kit took a glass of champagne from one of the waiters walking by and scanned the room. It wouldn’t be long before the chief of medicine came up to say a few words. She wondered what kind of entertainment was planned for the evening. She would have to do another lap of the room before it started and conversations halted.

She had just moved to intercept a waiter carrying lobster puffs when Buck stepped into her path.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a nice-looking bridesmaid’s dress.”

Kit put her hand on her hip. “Life isn’t a ‘90s romcom, Buck. Most brides would prefer people be looking at them and not at how awful their bridesmaids look.”

“My sister put all of her bridesmaids in boxy, peachy-beige dresses that came to the knee. They all looked like they wandered off a cult farm somewhere.”

“Sounds delightful. I’m sure the wedding photos were lovely.”

“It was awful. I had to wear a powder blue suit. I looked like the host of a children’s show.”

For the first time, Kit rewarded him with a genuine chuckle. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“If you’d answer my friend request on Facebook, you could see all the dorky pictures of me you want.”

Kit eyed the hors d’oeuvres and tried to reached the waiter as he walked by, but Buck was in her way. Why did guys like him have to be so damn tall?

“So I think we should both go chat up Dr. Washi. He’s one of the leading cardiologists in the country.”

“I know this. My mother has worked with him.”

Buck gave her a questioning look.

Kit rolled her eyes. “My mother. The anesthesiologist. Eldon knows me.”

“Who’s Eldon?”

Kit sharply elbowed Buck. “Dr. Washi. Were you listening at all when I volunteered for this in the meeting last Tuesday?”

“Of course.”

Kit sighed. She led the way over to Dr. Washi to make introductions, hoping she would be able to slip away from him soon, and if not, that she would be able to grab some food.

Buck quickly took over the conversation, boring Dr. Washi enough that he ended up excusing himself to go speak with the chief of medicine. That left Kit stuck with Buck as she tried to make connections around the room, blunting the force of Buck’s clearly one track mind when it came to hooking new clients.

Soon, the chief stood to thank everyone for coming, and a string quartet took the stage.

“This is a nice evening,” Buck said, moving closer to her.

Kit stepped to the side. “They tend to be. Though they’re boring as hell.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Buck took another step toward her. “I can think of some things to do to pass the time.”

Kit inched to the side again, but it seemed like every time she moved, he just kept getting closer. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Buck caught her arm fast. “Where are you going?”

Kit blinked up at him in disbelief. “Where might a lady go after drinking two flutes of champagne?”

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