2. Prescription For Love

At the very end of the carpeted hall, a redhead occupied a sleek L-shaped salt oak desk in a spacious alcove with an oriental rug, several plush waiting chairs, a coffeemaker on a credenza tucked into a corner, and a large window with a breathtaking view of the valley and village below. The vivacious-appearing late-twentysomething with bright green eyes and cover-girl complexion smiled at her. She wore tailored earth-toned pants and a pale green silk shirt. A square-cut emerald glinted on her right hand and a small diamond pendant matched studs in her ears. Understated and classy. “Morning. Can I help you?”

“I was hoping to catch Presley,” Abby said, extending her hand. “Abigail Remy. I just started—”

The redhead jumped up, her smile widening, and grasped Abby’s hand. “Oh! Of course. I’m

Carrie, Presley’s admin. It’s great to meet you other than in email.”

Some of the strangeness fell away with the warm welcome. Abby said, “You too. Thanks so much for making the whole process so easy. Is there anything else I need to do?”

“You ought to drop by personnel sometime today for a photo and get your ID card and a parking pass to the staff lot.” As she spoke, Carrie pulled open the right-hand drawer of her desk, withdrew a glossy brochure, and handed it to Abby. “Here’s a map of the grounds, and inside you’ll find a key to all the important internal areas. You’re all set with payroll.”

Abby glanced at the brochure, a sweeping panoramic view with the hospital at its center. Beneath it were the words SunView Medical Center—the Community’s Hospital. “Thanks. Things are moving fast, I gather.”

“Presley is very efficient.”

Abby laughed. “Oh, I remember that from when she was the sorority president. Can I get in to see her sometime this morning?”

“Hold on, let me check.” Carrie sat behind her computer and typed. A second later a message alert chimed. “She says now is good, and she’s ready for coffee and something to eat. Can I get you anything?”

“You know, I could do with a bagel or something, but you really don’t have to—”

“I always go about this time to grab something myself. It’s no problem.”

“Then I’ll take advantage and say yes.”

“Great. Go on in. I’ll drop off supplies in a few minutes.”

“It’s great to meet you in person,” Abby said as she crossed to the door bearing a simple brass plaque with the words Presley A. Worth, President in etched block letters. She knocked and the door opened almost immediately.

“Abby!” Presley grabbed her into a huge hug. “I’m so glad to see you.” Presley relaxed her grip and kept both hands on Abby’s shoulders. Her gaze swept down and back up. “You look great. I can’t believe it’s been five years. How did we manage to let that much time pass with just cards?”

“I don’t know.” Abby swallowed around an unexpected lump in her throat. She’d forgotten how comforting real friendship could be, how the instant acceptance and sense of belonging could make any problem seem solvable. Sure, she’d been close to her fellow residents, but that was more out of mutual preservation rather than anything else. She’d never shared herself with them. Presley hadn’t changed. Her blond hair was a little shorter, but her blue eyes were just as sharp and appraising as ever. No one could ever hide anything from Presley. She wasn’t sure how deeply she wanted to be seen just yet. She stepped back, squeezed Presley’s hands as they parted. “It’s great to see you. I believe you’re actually glowing. I didn’t realize that was physically possible.”

Presley’s color rose. “I think it’s sunburn.”

“Well, country living seems to agree with you.”

“You have no idea.” Presley slid an arm around Abby’s waist and led her into the room. The suite was spacious with windows on two sides and bookcases on the other two. A sitting area with an oval oriental rug, a beige leather sofa, two chairs, and a coffee table occupied one corner. An open door led to an adjoining conference room with a large table surrounded by a cluster of chairs. Presley’s traditional dark wood desk sat in front of one wall of windows through which Abby saw clusters of lilac trees in full bloom. “How do you get any work done in here?”

“It took me a while to get used to it.” Presley gestured to one of the chairs in the sitting area and took one of the others. “At first I felt hopelessly out of place, but it didn’t take long to begin to feel at home.”

“I hope you’re right, because I’m feeling a little displaced myself.”

Presley smiled gently. “I feel really lucky to get you here so quickly, but I hope I didn’t rush you too much.”

“My fellowship was up in another few weeks, and I hadn’t had any vacation time this year. I needed to make a final decision about a job”—Abby shrugged—“and frankly, none of them really appealed to me.”

“I’m glad I caught you at the right time.”

A double knock sounded at the door and Presley rose. “Come on in, Carrie.” She helped Carrie distribute containers of coffee and a tray with bagels and spreads on the coffee table. “Thanks.”