We enter the lobby of the clinic and it instantly goes from empty to crowded. With the two huge SEALS, six foot three inch Drew, and me, the tiny waiting area seems to shrink around us. Only one other person is waiting. Unfortunately, she’s fairly young, and by the way her mouth is gaping and her eyes are popping out, I’d say she recognizes Drew.
I hustle him over to the front desk and greet the elderly man who checks people in. He hands us a clipboard with a bunch of papers to fill out and directs us to let us know when we’re done.
“I’m sorry,” I say to the tiny man, “Is there any way we can fill these out in a more private area?”
“Sorry luv,” he says with a heavy Scottish brogue, “Fill ‘em out here and bring ‘em back.”
Great, this guy has no clue who Drew is and doesn’t seem to understand why we can’t sit in a waiting room with a hyperventilating fangirl.
“We really need to be in a more private area, I’m begging you,” I whisper so Drew can’t hear me. I turn to look at Drew and see that he’s sitting with Evan, staring at the floor.
I look back at the fan and notice that she has her cellphone out to take a picture. I spin on my heel and stalk over to her. “Hey! You can’t do that in here! It’s against the law not to mention rude.” She lowers the phone and scowls at me, but makes no more attempts at getting a picture. Hopefully, I caught her before she snapped one since I have no clue if it’s against the law or not.
I walk back over to the man at the desk. “See? We can’t be out here, he’s pretty recognizable.” I jerk my thumb towards Drew.
“You don’t say?” The white-haired old man.says. “Who’s that again?”
I sigh. “Andrew Forrester, he’s an American actor.”
I hate using his name to get what we want, it goes against everything I grew up despising, but I can’t let that girl take pictures of him like this.
“Hmmm, let me get the nurse for ya luv.” He stands up and totters off to fetch someone for me.
Seconds later the door bursts open and a pleasant looking middle-aged nurse in green scrubs comes out. Her eyes widen as she takes in the odd group in the lobby, then her professional demeanor takes over and she introduces herself to me. “Hello, I’m Kathryn. Come with me please.” She steps back and holds the door open as we all file through.
“Thank you Kathryn. That girl was trying to take pictures.”
“She was, was she?” Kathryn responds, narrowing her eyes. “Well, we don’t tolerate that kind of behavior here. Everyone deserves their privacy.” Her hostile tone suggests that she’s seen the cover stories about us.
We’re put in a room to wait for the x-ray technician, so I fill out the paperwork the best I can. Drew can’t hold a pen right now with his writing hand all puffed out and purple.
Moments later someone comes to get Drew and Evan goes with him while Steve and I wait behind. They come back after less than five minutes and Drew flops down into a chair and stares off into space.
The chirping of my phone seems extra loud in the quiet room. I’m about to answer it when the doctor enters with Drew’s x-rays. I silence the ringer and stuff my phone back in my purse.
“Well, well, well! I’m Dr. Bradford,” he says cheerfully. “Tell me what happened.”
Our bodyguards slip out of the room and close the door.
Drew looks embarrassed to tell the doctor about his injury. He stares at the floor and rubs the back of his neck with his good hand. “I uh, punched a wall. Several times.”
Drew’s admission doesn’t even faze the doctor as he sticks two dark sheets up onto the lightboard and points to a spot on the x-ray. “Seems you’ve got brawler’s fracture,” he says, turning to Drew and removing his reading glasses. “You Americans call it a boxer’s fracture, I believe.”
“Okay,” says Drew. “So what does that mean?”
“It’s a fracture of the fourth metacarpal bone. The ring finger, but where it extends down in your hand, not up in the actual finger.”
“So you have to cast it?” I ask the doctor.
He smiles. “No, it’s only got a hairline fracture, see?” He puts his glasses back on and points to the broken bone. “I’ve seen guys come in with this one completely split in half. Requires surgery if that happens.” I pale at the thought of surgery, and the doctor looks back at me, smiling again. “No worries dear, this is very minor. You won’t even need a cast,” he says to Drew. “I’ll be right back.” The doctor gets up and leaves the room.