Goldie’s death grip had my hand turning white. Make that made my hand as white as his pale face. “Suga, Suga, Suga,” he moaned.

I leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “I’m going to tell Neal that all bets are off on your surgery for today. You changed your mind.”

“Noooooooooo!” Despite the fact I thought it impossible, his grip tightened. “No, Suga. I’m just being melodramatic-”

“So what’s new?” a male said from behind me.

I swung around to see Miles, holding a bouquet of red roses.

“I thought that voice sounded familiar, but had no idea that you’d plan to come today. Then again-” I looked at Goldie, who was now smiling. My numb hand had been released. “-I should have known.”

“He knew,” Miles said, walking into the room and setting the roses on the bed next to Goldie.

I swung back to Gold. “What?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want the guy who’d be cutting me to pieces to be thinking his date might cancel tonight.”

“So you called Miles to come all this way.”

“Like I could have stayed home,” Miles said, kissing Goldie on the forehead. “Who better to replace you tonight than an O.R. nurse-”

“Who I know will take the world’s best care of my patient. Group hug, guys.”

We all leaned in to hug each other, and I felt as if a weight had been lifted off my head. Goldie swore he really didn’t want to change his mind yet again. I bought his story, and Miles settled into the room since he’d spend the night.

While I was “touring” Newport with the doc.

One could only hope he knew his way around…everyplace.

“I’m going to ask if they can give you a little something to calm you down, Gold. A pre-op cocktail of sorts. They usually don’t like to give too much prior to surgery, so you wake up faster, but no one should be too worried and uncomfortable.” I touched his hand. How I hated seeing my friend like this. We’d been waiting for what seemed like hours for them to take him to the O.R.

Goldie, snuggled under the duvet in the fetal position, merely looked at me and blinked as if he’d forgotten how to talk.

I felt horrible putting him through this, so I told Miles to stay there-as if he’d leave-and headed out to find the anesthesia people.

When I came up to the front desk, my eyes grew teary. Ian should have been working, but instead the evening receptionist had filled in, I guessed until they found a permanent replacement.

“Excuse me.” I looked at her name tag. “Kimberly.”

“Kim.” She stuffed a few papers into a folder. “Damnedest filing system I’ve even seen. I can’t work like this.”

I wanted to say that since Ian was dead, she probably could do what she wanted, but before I could, she said, “Thank the good Lord I’m not going to be here much longer.”

Hm. “Oh? Have they found a permanent replacement?”

“Yeah, Pauline. Me.”

I looked toward the door behind the reception desk to see Lydia standing there. In her black slacks and white blouse she looked a few years older, but not any happier.

“Hey. Great, Lydia. You’re taking over…that’s great.”

“Yeah. Ian’s job. Will wonders never cease?” With that she walked past me and said, “Kim will help you. I’m officially in orientation, and it’s my tea break. See ya.”

Interesting.

If her aunt owned this place and was so wealthy, why would poor Lydia have to work here as a receptionist-when obviously gigolo husband Devin didn’t punch a clock for anyone.

“Kim, I need to talk to whoever is doing the anesthesia for Mr. Goldie Perlman’s eleven o’clock rhinoplasty.”

She looked as if my just standing there annoyed her, and now that I had a question that needed answering she was even more pissed. Geez. Folks around here were very complicated.

Maybe that’s what money did to people.

Me, I wouldn’t know.

“Okay, Gold, I’m going to give you a little sedative that will ease your anxiety.” I lifted the IV tubing, wiped the rubber stopper part with an alcohol pad and stuck the needle in.

“Shouldn’t I count or something?”

Miles and I chuckled. “Sure. Count if you want, but this may not knock you out, merely relax you.” I pushed the medication in slowly.

Within a few minutes Goldie snored like a sailor, Miles was watching The View, and I sat by the window praying to Saint Theresa that all would go well for Goldie.

Even from the second floor I could see Lydia walk past the window, and right on her heels was…Olivia Wheaton-Chandler. Although I could see they were talking-make that arguing-I couldn’t read lips. However, Lydia looked furious.

My heart thudded.

The last person I’d seen arguing with Olivia was Ian, who promptly ended up dead a few hours later.

Yikes!

I added a quick prayer for Lydia as the door opened. An orderly said, “We’re ready for Mr. Perlman,” and the day began.

Tears were shed (mine). Goldie snored. And I insisted that Miles be allowed to walk to the O.R. with us.

When we got to the double doors of the surgical suite, we nudged Goldie awake, kissed him on the lips and turned to hug each other. “He’s going to do spectacular, Miles. Spectacular.”

He sniffled and nodded as they wheeled Goldie in. Not that I was happy Ian had been killed, but I was glad he wouldn’t be there to snoop on Goldie’s surgery. Sounded way too perverted.

When I let go of Miles, a hand touched my shoulder. Half expecting Jagger to be standing there, I spun around ready for a friendly hug.

“I’ll take good care of him, Pauline,” Neal said.

My heart did a little dance, which was a hell of a lot more fun than the earlier thudding experience. “I know you will. Thanks,” I muttered, and then introduced him to Miles.

“That’s perfect. We’ll have a wonderful time tonight. Goldie will be in good hands and we’ll…make the rounds of the town.”

Well, damn, didn’t that just make my day?

“He looks like a sleeping angel,” Miles said as he tucked the duvet under Goldie, who snored away with his nose covered in bandages and packed like a traveler’s suitcase-only with surgical cotton packing.

I nodded. “At least he’s comfortable. I couldn’t stand to see him in pain, and I know neither could you.”

Miles wiped his finger across Goldie’s forehead. “No.”

Gold had to go to surgery sans drag, and without his wig, makeup and fantastic smile, he looked so very different, yet so very familiar. I almost suffered a maternal moment. Almost.

Miles turned toward me. “Don’t you need to go get ready for your big hot date? He’ll be fine.”

“I know he will and my date is not a date nor is it hot. It’s just a friend showing me around town.”

Miles looked me in the eye. “Pauline dear, straight guys do not want to be friends with chicks.”

I knew he was right but out of principle smacked him on the arm. “Okay. I’m off. I’ll have my cell on if you need me, but I know you are capable of caring for him.”

“Go.”

I nodded, leaned over and kissed Goldie on the forehead. “You did great, Gold. Just great.”

He muttered something, and I smiled at Miles before heading out the door.

If I thought I changed my outfits a lot to not embarrass myself in front of Jagger, the pile of clothing (every stitch that I’d brought with me including my pink scrubs) lay on the floor at my feet. Naked feet that went with my body. What the hell was I going to wear?

And was I really trying to impress Dr. Neal?

Jeans. I should just wear jeans and clean underwear without worrying about matching colors. The clean part came from-who else?-Stella Sokol. You know the drill. Clean underwear in case you got into an accident. I smiled to myself, missed my family a bit and decided I needn’t make such a big deal about what to wear. After all it was merely a tour of Newport-with a swanky, sexy, hot doctor.