Blood and Sex, Volume 2: Jonas

"Hey, El."

Dr. Elena Jensen swiveled in her office chair, turning toward the sound of a woman’s voice. It was Vanessa Baker, the leggy blonde who looked more like a lingerie model than a secretary, even in her brown suit. The women strode into her cluttered white room as if the door hadn’t been closed. Why couldn’t they all just let her work? Some days it really felt like she was the only one in the building who took her job seriously.

"Good morning, Vanessa." Elena plastered a smile on her face and tossed the case file into the growing stack beside her keyboard.

"Plans for tomorrow night?" The woman slid a hip up onto the front of Elena’s desk and held out a black-and-red postcard.

She took it. "I don't think so."

"You're going with us then. You're not spending another Saturday night here."

Elena glanced over the card and caught the words bachelorette party, vampires, and The Dungeon. "Van, I've already told them. I'm not going."

"I'm getting married – your best friend in the whole world – and you're not coming to my bachelorette party?"

She'd never thought of Vanessa as her best friend. In fact, she barely qualified as a co-worker. Most days, she was simply the office tramp. "I just don't think –"

"You think too much. You are going. And we're picking you up at seven." She flashed that brilliant whitened smile and batted her long dark lashes as if she were talking to one of the men. "Johnny's getting us a limo."

Elena smiled again, trying to hide her disdain for the way Vanessa said his name. John was Dr. John Wescot, their boss and head of the immunohematology department. It had taken Elena two years to work her way into this position at the University of Florida. John had been her mentor and friend. He was a brilliant scientist and one of the nicest guys she'd ever known. He was easily twice Vanessa's age and probably triple her IQ. So, it baffled Elena more than a little that John had fallen so thoroughly for the woman. "I really shouldn't go. I have a speech to give Sunday afternoon."

"Oh, right, that new Immuno-X thing. John said something about that."
That thing was only the largest leap in hematology in the last century. "Yeah, there's a press conference announcing the findings. There will probably be a lot of questions. I need my rest." She held the invitation back to Vanessa.

"What time does it start?"

"Two."

"Don't worry. We'll have you home in time to get some sleep."

"Vanessa, I need to prepare."

"You've got plenty of time. You’ll have most of tomorrow.” She picked up Elena’s little double-helix paperweight. “Besides, you're a genius anyway. It doesn't matter how much you practice. Most of those guys aren't going to understand a word you're saying."

"That's not the point."

Vanessa wasn’t listening. "We can't have you dragging us down in one of your jean-tee combos. Ooo, wear that red dress I gave you for the Christmas party last year. It’ll get some attention."

"No, that's a little too much attention."

"You can never get too much attention, El. You just have to learn to enjoy it."

Elena picked up a new case file and started flipping through the pages of data. "Uh…yeah. I don’t have a sexy bone in my body. I’ll never enjoy it. You just can’t understand."

"Oh, El." She cackled that annoying laugh the way she did whenever someone complimented her. "You're sexy. You're just always hiding under that lab coat." She reached over and touched Elena's hair where it fell out of the ponytail. "You've got this gorgeous brown hair."

"You mean mousey."

"No, it's beautiful. Like milk chocolate. And when you take off those glasses, we can see your blue eyes. They're always so bright when you wear eyeliner, too."

"All right, I don't know about the whole beautiful thing, but if you'll get off my desk and stop talking like you're going to give me a makeover, then I'll come to your party."

Vanessa slid off the desk, practically bouncing. "Be ready. It's gonna be a blast." She opened the door backed out. "And wear some sexy underwear in case you get lucky."

As the door closed, Elena muttered. "Yeah. Right." She wasn't going to make her life even more miserable by filling it with one-night stands. That was for women like Vanessa, the ones who could party all night and still look like Marilyn Monroe in the morning. Women like herself – responsible women – just didn't do that. It wasn’t that the thought hadn't crossed her mind, but her life was just too complicated to add silly men to the mix. No, she'd wait until another John Wescot came along. That's when she'd reconsider.