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I turn to see Dr. Pearce and inwardly groan.
“Dr. Pearce.”
“I’m glad to see you decided to dress conservatively today.”
Although I would have loved to tell him that I did it because I had very little else to wear and it wasn’t by choice, I don’t. I give him a curt smile and nod my head. I’m still embarrassed over dreaming about having sex with him, and as he holds the door open for me, my face heats up.
It takes me a minute to realize that he is missing something… his arm crutches. He only has a cane in his right-hand today.
“Dr. Pearce, no crutches?”
“My therapy is working so far. I felt stronger over the weekend, and my doctors said I might start to see a difference around this fourth-month mark. I’ve also been working out with my physical therapist, trying to keep my muscles strong.”
“Congratulations, I’m happy to see you’re getting better. You’ll be dancing in no time.”
“That is my hope. I rather enjoy leading a woman around the dance floor. Do you dance?”
“I don’t slow dance, but I can tear it up at the club.”
“Then I’ll have to teach you,” he replied suggestively.
Our conversation is cut off as the elevator doors open, and several people file in with us. I glance at Dr. Pearce, who tucks himself away into the corner of the car. He isn’t paying attention to me, but rather his phone, and it leaves me wondering what he meant by teaching me to dance. It sounded like he was practically inviting me into his bed. He holds the doors, waiting for me to exit so he can continue his ride upstairs to his floor.
“Miss Stanford, I expect you to bring the lab results to me within the hour,” Chase calls as the doors close.
And we’re back to him being a taskmaster again. “You will have them as soon as I input everything into the database.”
“Good. I’ll see you shortly.”
I scoff. Why is it that he’s nice to me one second, but a dick at the flip of a switch? I wonder if his marriage ended not because he didn’t spend enough time with his wife, but too much. If he treated her the way he treats me, then I was not surprised.
At my desk, I finish the last of my coffee. Sighing, I tell myself I should have brought my travel mug to be filled too. The swill they have in the break room is horrible because no one ever cleans the pot, which makes the coffee taste burnt no matter how fresh it is.
I boot up my computer and log in to the company database. Within forty-five minutes, I’m finished with inputting the data. I print off the sheets for Dr. Pearce to sign off on and immediately head to his office, stopping briefly by his secretary’s desk to see if he’s available. Fortunately, he will be. She tells me to go in and sit since he’d be back shortly.
Inside his office, I spot a bouquet of red roses on his desk. Unable to resist, I drop my report and stick my nose into them, inhaling deeply. It’s been some time since I received roses from anyone. As I’m enjoying the velvety petals, I wonder why he has them.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Dr. Pearce’s voice startles me. When I whip around, he’s leaning against the jamb of the door, watching me make an ass out of myself.
“I–I love the smell of roses. It’s been a while since someone sent me any.” I don’t know why I feel compelled to offer him an explanation. Chase makes me want to reveal things.
“Since Jeremy?” he asks as he shuts the door.
“No, I’ve received them after him.”
“Steven?”
I swear I heard a hint of jealousy in his voice or was it sarcasm?
“Yes, Steven has sent them to me, but not recently.”
“For a job well done?”
I’m highly annoyed, grinding my teeth until they hurt. “Dr. Pearce, your remarks could be termed sexual harassment. Why should my relationships be any of your business?”
“Megan, I don’t want you to sell yourself short. You’re a beautiful woman, and I don’t think you should allow a man to use you as he does. You call what you do with him a relationship?”
