Prejudice Meets Pride by Rachael Anderson

infused with color. “Oh, sorry.” She shrugged. “I just didn’t want to go alone.”
    So she was asking him to go with her. As a date? As a friend? As a last-ditch invite because no one else could go, or because she knew that Kevin loved football and figured he’d want to go?
    As Kevin waffled, the feeling in the room became awkward and tense. First Emma and now this. Friend, date, regardless of whatever category Kevin fit into, he wasn’t about to make things even more complicated—not even for great seats to a Broncos game.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I can’t.”
    “Oh, okay. Maybe next time then.” The way she dipped her head and pushed her glasses back in place as she shot from the room told Kevin that he’d embarrassed her, which also told him that her invite was more than just a couldn’t-find-anyone-else-so-I’m-asking-you thing. People didn’t get embarrassed when someone they didn’t care about turned them down.
    He leaned back and sighed. This was one complication he could have done without.

    Emma drew in a deep breath then yanked hard on the door of Northwest Pediatric Dentistry. Inside, she was greeted with a clean, nondescript waiting room, smells of anesthetic mixed with fluoride, a child crying from somewhere in the back, and a smiling receptionist, who acted as though nothing was wrong.
    She approached the desk tentatively. “I’m here to see Kevin—er, I mean, Dr. Grantham.”
    The receptionist’s smile faltered briefly as she flicked a glance over her shoulder, toward the source of the same child now yelling, “No, no, no!” “Um, he’s a little tied up at the moment. Do you mind waiting?”
    “Of course not.” Emma settled into one of the seats and tapped her heels against the floor. Her fingers fiddled with the straps of her purse as she checked out the waiting room. There was a Lego table in the corner, a bookcase filled with children’s books, and a flat screen TV that played Monsters, Inc . Through a massive aquarium on her left, Emma caught a glimpse of a large exam room. Kevin sat in a chair next to the screaming child, with one assistant at his elbow and a frantic-looking woman hovering at the foot of the chair.
    Even though the boy was yelling and shaking his head, Kevin calmly talked to the boy. He opened a drawer and held up a shiny gold coin, and the boy, who appeared to be no more than three, finally stopped yelling. His mouth clamped shut as Kevin held up various dental tools, using the child’s hand to test them on. After a couple minutes of talking, the boy’s head finally nodded. Kevin gestured to the young girl at his side, probably the hygienist, and the boy nodded again. Kevin gave the boy a pat on the shoulder, handed him the gold coin and stood, switching the hygienist places.
    Emma admired his patience. He probably had to put up with that sort of thing a lot, and he’d handled it well.
    Only a few minutes later, the door next to the reception desk opened, and Kevin poked his head through. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Emma,” he said. “Come on back, and I’ll introduce you to Janice.”
    Emma nervously following him to the back, feeling out of place. Not only did she know nothing about dentistry, but she really didn’t know much about office work either. Kevin couldn’t have offered this job to a more under-qualified person.
    He led her to a small office in the back, where a woman not much older than Kevin typed on her computer. “Janice?” Kevin said, getting the woman’s attention. “I’d like you to meet Emma.”
    Emma walked into the room, still gripping her purse strings, and offered a tentative smile. “Nice to meet you.”
    Janice studied her through glasses that made her look both intelligent and sophisticated before nodding. “So, uh, you’re the artist.”
    Emma flicked a glance at Kevin. What had he said about her? What kind of person was Janice expecting? Someone adept, or did the “artist” title convey the