At least not the real one.
I’d been so lost in my own thoughts this morning, that I’d almost let Maddy out the door without her inhaler. That would have been a nightmare, because I would have been forced to leave work and come back home to pick it up and then drive it back to her school. Instead, I found myself chasing after the bus two blocks, frantically yelling and waving behind it like a lunatic until it had finally stopped and let me on.
I made my way to work afterwards, determined to clear my mind and not let myself get distracted any longer. I needed to stay clear-headed and keep my cool.
And I was doing so good, until Larry walked into my office after I’d only been there for five minutes and ruined everything.
“You’re going to want to take that coffee to go,” he said, gesturing to the steamy mug on my desk.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Your patient isn’t feeling well. He requested that you do an in-call treatment.”
“Which patient?” I asked, knowing exactly who he was talking about but hoping I was wrong.
“Colorado, of course. Your only patient.”
“For fuck’s sake, Larry!” I exclaimed. Yeah, I’m not supposed to complain, but this was too much.
“I don’t see the problem, Maisey. He doesn’t live far from here. I’ll pay for your gas and parking, if that’s your problem. Time and a half pay for having to leave the office.”
“That’s not it!”
“Well, then what?” he asked.
“If he’s not feeling well, then why do I have to go to his home to be exposed to whatever he has?”
“His leg injury isn’t contagious Maisey. He’s hurting too much to walk, but we both know he can’t afford to miss a day of therapy.”
“I can’t believe this,” I muttered, shaking my head and gathering my things. “What’s his address?”
“He lives in a penthouse at Spire,” he said.
“Of course he does,” I rolled my eyes. Spire is the most luxurious high-rise in Denver, of course he lives there.
“I gotta say, Maisey. I’m surprised you aren’t more excited about this. It’s a great opportunity for you. He could be a really great reference for you, and for the company. If we can get Mr. Colorado back on his feet, we might end up doing physical therapy for his entire team. We’re talking about a substantial increase in business, and don’t think I won’t remember who helped make that happen. We’re talking about a big raise for you… Plus, you get to hang out in his penthouse. I hear the view is amazing.”
“Lucky me,” I sneered, grabbing my coffee and walking out of my office.
Jesse had upped the game. I knew he wasn’t hurting too much to crutch his way in here. He was just using that as an excuse to get me all alone. He was still trying to wear me down.
But he had another thing coming if he thought he could do that.
I was strong. I was resilient. I’d gone this long without letting a man, any man, steer me off course. I wasn’t about to let some jock come in and ruin everything, no matter how he made me feel…
13
JESSE
“The distributions will go out first thing Monday morning.” My accountant, Harlan Harrison sat across from me at my kitchen table. My crutches were leaning against it, and I was already so sick of seeing them that I wanted to throw them off the balcony.
“Make sure Samantha includes the letter I wrote when she sends out the checks,” I replied, just as the door bell rang. “Get that, will you Harlan? It’s probably my physical therapist.”
“Of course,” he rose and opened the door, greeting a very pissed off, albeit very adorable, Maisey. I was delighted to see her hair was down today, the curls I remembered so well bouncing around her head in an unruly mess. I imagined sinking my fingers into them, and pulling her head back, my lips capturing hers in a passionate kiss. I wanted to smell them, touch them, feel them sliding through my fingers.
“Maisey, thanks for coming,” I said from the table. “Please come in. This is Harlan, my accountant.”
“Hello,” she said, smiling politely, despite the anger rolling off of her. She still had that small town girl in her. She’d never be rude to someone needlessly, no matter how pissed off at me she was. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Harlan said, before turning back to me. “Besides the Children’s Heartlink Foundation disbursements, is there anything else we need to go over, Jesse?”
“You tell me, you’re the accountant, Harlan,” I joked. “I don’t think so. Just make sure that money gets to those researchers as fast as possible.”