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When the session ended, he smiled like someone who’d just received a backhanded compliment. “Great work today, Rowan. Before you leave, have Cammie make you an appointment for Thursday or Friday.” He walked ahead into the office he’d left earlier and closed the door before I could reply.
“You must have a complex injury,” Cammie said with a small smile. “I’ve never seen Dr. Cardoso so focused.”
Great. Apparently, I’m the only one who turns Cal Cardoso into an automaton. “I don’t suppose Dr. Cohen has any openings for Thursday or Friday?”
“Between us,” she said lowering her voice, “You want to stay with Dr. Cardoso. He’s a sweetheart and really good at his job. Not to mention, I’d much rather have him stretching my body than Dr. Cohen.”
Her eyes widened, and she slapped her hand over her mouth.
I laughed and Dr. Cohen stopped working with his elderly patient to glare at Cammie again.
“I see what you mean,” I said. “What does Dr. Cardoso have available?”
“How about this time on Thursday? Does that work?” she asked, clicking her mouse.
“It does.”
“Great, the address we have in our records is in DC. Would you like to update it?”
“Sure,” I said, giving her my mom’s address on Sullivan Street.
“We’ll see you on Thursday. It was great meeting you.”
And unlike Cal, I could tell she really meant it.
Chapter five
Cal
The sun had justbegun to rise as I stepped outside for my run. The mountains blocked most of the light, but the clouds to the east glowed, outlining the hills in crimson. As I stretched, the red faded to orange and spread across the sky.
I started running north toward the high school, taking deep breaths of the damp air to clear the sleep from my mind. As I approached the Stevens’s house, a figure dashed off the steps and sprinted toward me.
“Morning, Chris,” I said as he slowed to match my pace.
“Cal.”
We ran for several minutes without talking while the world around us formed from the fading darkness. It was one of the reasons I liked the kid. He helped pass the time with conversations about sports or Skye but gave me as long as I needed to wake up.
“Did you leave the pie in my fridge?” I asked a half mile into our run as we approached the high school.
“Yeah, Mom made way too much food to welcome my sister home. How was Ann’s session?”
I broke stride and had to do a little hop not to trip over my own feet. I knew I recognized the gorgeous redhead that came into the office yesterday. Her face and first name were both familiar, but I’d failed to make the connection with Rowan Stevens or even that Rowan was Chris’s oldest sister since he called her Ann whenever he spoke of her.
The last time I’d seen Rowan, she was a scrawny thing with frizzy hair, braces, and glasses that covered half her face. We didn’t have the same friends in school, and I honestly couldn’t recall hearing her voice before yesterday. The Rowan I remembered did her best to disappear. She’d grown into a stunning woman who commanded attention. Without the glasses, her captivating green eyes couldn’t be ignored, and she’d filled out in the best ways.
Her ass alone had made it difficult to focus on her mobility issues. I kept catching myself staring at it when I should have been watching her gait, which was incredibly unprofessional and unlike me. I’ve worked with attractive women before, but I’ve always been able to keep my focus where it belonged and never gotten involved with anyone I’ve treated. Something about Rowan overrode my professionalism, which was the last thing I needed right now.
“Tell your mom thanks,” I said when I realized I wasn’t holding up my end of the conversation. For the first time in my career, I was grateful for HIPAA. Otherwise, I couldn’t avoid talking to Chris about Rowan, and what an idiot I’d been yesterday.
“How was Ann’s session?” Chris asked again.
A fucking disaster. Not only had I snapped at her about texting, I’d introduced myself like we hadn’t grown up in the same small town only two years apart. Her chart had listed aDC address and a different last name, but even so, I must have come across as a huge prick for not remembering her. I already felt uneasy about how tense our session became. I’ve had plenty of patients recovering from car accidents, many of whom were texting, but I’ve never reacted the way I did yesterday. Maybe I was off balance because I couldn’t place why she looked familiar, or maybe it was because as soon as she mentioned being pinned to a tree, I’d thought of the accident that took Logan. Memories often resurfaced as the anniversary approached, but that was no excuse to take it out on a patient. I’d planned to apologize to Rowan on Thursday, but knowing who she was, and that she’s living on my street, made my behavior worse. “Come on, man, you know I can’t talk about who I treat or don’t.”
Chris nodded. The kid usually had an easy smile, but this morning he looked tense.
“You ok?”
