The Holiday Triplets by Jacqueline Diamond

expects you to,” Nora said. “But don’t take us down as collateral damage. You have a lot of power. The press loves you. You’re famous.”
    â€œI am not!” Besides, what mattered was her cause, not her personality.
    â€œThe media makes instant celebrities, and you fit the bill,” Nora countered. “Use your power wisely.”
    Things no longer seemed as blazingly clear as they had moments ago. While Sam hated shades of gray, the last thing she’d ever do was abuse power. “I’ll try to temper my remarks.”
    â€œTry hard,” Nora said.
    A moment later, Sam emerged on the walkway. To her right, in front of the hospital, she spotted a TV van. She should be able to catch the camera crew before Jennifer sent them away. But what was she going to tell them?
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    T HROUGH THE HOSPITAL’S front doors, Mark watched Samantha approaching. “Tell me this isn’t going to be the shoot-out at the OK Corral,” he muttered to Jennifer. Even though she’d done her best to call off the media, she hadn’t—as predicted—been able to reach everyone.
    The PR director’s only response was an absent nod as she raced to wave down a camera crew. She also rounded up Tom LaGrange, a reporter for a local Orange County newspaper.
    â€œI’m afraid we’ve had to call off the press conference,” she was informing them as Mark came abreast. “The hospital will have a major announcement, hopefully in a few weeks, but there’ve been delays. I’m sorry I didn’t get hold of you in time to save you a trip.”
    Hayden O’Donnell, an on-air television reporter, regarded her and Mark skeptically. “We understood the announcement involved Dr. Forrest.”
    â€œAnd here she is now,” added LaGrange. He and the TV crew swung toward the pediatrician.
    Mark had to concede that Sam cut a striking figure, her hair just wild enough to give her character, and her face alive with purpose. But apprehension took the edge off his instinctive pleasure at seeing her.
    They were in for it now.
    â€œDr. Forrest.” A microphone was thrust toward her. “What’s going on? Is someone trying to muzzle you?”
    Her gaze met Mark’s. Despite everything that separated them, he felt a jolt of connection. And, amazingly, hope.
    â€œI’m not sure what our PR director has told you so far,” she began.
    Jennifer seized her chance. “That the hospital isn’t ready to make any announcement yet.”
    â€œThat’s right, although I would like to tell the public about our upcoming fundraiser.” To Mark’s amazement,Sam spoke calmly, without a hint of defiance. “There’ll be an open house from 2:00 to 4:00 p.m. on Christmas Day at the Edward Serra Memorial Clinic, on the fifth floor of the Safe Harbor Medical Center. Food, piñatas and entertainment. Our theme is ‘A Hot and Happy Christmas.’ Admission is free, but donations will be appreciated.”
    He began to relax. Was she really finished?
    â€œAnd we’ll be needing them now more than ever.”
    Oh, damn. To explain that ominous statement, Mark jumped in to run damage control. “People’s generosity always gets stretched thin during the holidays, with so many appeals. Yet during the same period, stresses on families increase. The counseling clinic becomes more important than ever.”
    â€œPlus the fact that we have to move,” Sam added.
    Mark held his breath. If only they were in the auditorium, as planned, he could seize the podium and freeze her out, awkward as that might be. But here on the sidewalk, the reporters were free to ignore him.
    Which they did.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” O’Donnell demanded.
    â€œIs the hospital kicking you out?” That was LaGrange.
    â€œFor the past few months, the medical center has generously allowed us to use an office suite free of charge,” Sam