She’d told Hope about a new client who had her insides burning up every time she laid eyes on him. She’d told her friend that he was drop-dead gorgeous and that there had been subtle flirting going on, and that it was hard to remember to keep things professional, but she was in control of her senses. For now, anyway. But she never once let on that the man was Robert Blade—her biggest celebrity crush.
Hope poured the wine. “You brought the good stuff.”
It was a magnificent Cabernet that Amber had been saving for a special occasion, and perfect for tonight’s reveal. “You only live once.”
They clinked their glasses together, tipped back the wine, and took a moment to savor the black cherry and vanilla notes.
Hope moaned and displayed what could only be described as her “O” face. “That’s divine.”
“So, today,” Amber began, fidgeting in her seat, unable to stop talking, even though she knew she should. “My new patient,” which is how she referred to Robert—no name-dropping from this girl, “came into the practice wearing athletic shorts that hugged every inch of him. My poor receptionist almost choked on a cookie! And his tank top was so thin I swear I could see his nipples through it.”
Hope sighed, a dreamy expression on her face. “Can I visit you for lunch so I can get a look at this brutally handsome man?”
“Absolutely not. It would be unprofessional. I shouldn’t even be talking about a patient like this. It’s unethical.” In reality, Hope wouldn’t be able to keep her cool over seeing Robert face to face. The girl had zero self-control.
“I have to admit. It’s totally unlike you. You’ve never gushed over how good-looking a patient is or admitted that you’d been attracted to one before. Wait a minute.” Hope held up her index finger, and her eyes fluttered in thought for a few seconds before she reconsidered and lowered her hand. “No. You said that basketball player turned out to be a jerk. So, are you finally going to tell me who this guy is?”
Amber took a deep breath and held it for a moment. It left her lungs in a whoosh, and she blurted out, “It’s Robert Blade from the Bucks.” As if she needed to add that last part. His name was as recognizable as his face.
Hope’s eyes popped, her mouth opened into a giant oval, and she grabbed Amber’s forearm so tightly she practically cut off the blood supply. “Oh my God! How could you have kept this from me?”
Teenage laughter—something Amber hadn’t felt since, well, she was a teenager—floated from her mouth with excitement. It was freeing to be able to speak openly about Robert after keeping it to herself for so long. She never even told Hope about meeting him in the bar or the kiss. How could she? “It took everything in me not to tell you his name. I didn’t think I’d grow genuine feelings for him. I thought it was just infatuation. But it’s not. He’s authentic. An actual nice guy. And he’s funny and good-natured. He has a great outlook, and he’s always so positive.” That was something she wasn’t used to, and his glass-half-full attitude was uplifting. Lord knows, she needed more people like that in her life.
“Amber. . .” Hope warned, disapproval heavy in her voice. “You don’t date professional athletes. Do I need to remind you of that?”
With that simple statement, Amber’s spirits bottomed out. “I didn’t say I was going to date him. I’m just having fun. Enjoying his company.”Lie. Lie. Lie.She’d been trying to tell herself, and Robert, that she had no intention of dating him, but her resolve was weakening by the minute, although she still refused to admit it out loud.
Amber knew how to play it cool. It’s an act she’d been perfecting for years. Shoulders back and chin up, she held her laptop bag at her side and stared straight ahead as she walked into her practice. The clock behind the reception desk read 8:02, and the place was already filled with a half dozen patients plus the four physical therapists she employed. A quick scan told her that Robert wasn’t among them. His appointment wasn’t for another 28 minutes, but sometimes he showed up early—even before she did.
“Good morning, Dr. Morgan.” The receptionist greeted her with a cheerful smile. “I printed out today’s appointment schedule and left it on your desk.”
“Good morning, Amy. Thank you.” Amber nodded a greeting at several people on the way to her office and shut the door. She dropped her laptop bag on the desk, exchanged her short trench for her white doctor’s coat, and made herself a cup of coffee. As she sipped the hot brew, she looked at the sheet Amy left for her. The first patient of the day was Robert Blade. But she already knew that. It was the start of his second week of treatment, and his progress pleased her.
She powered up her laptop to peruse his plan for the day and take a more in-depth look at his file. As soon as she clicked on it, the screen filled with is profile pic, and his baby blues gazed directly at her. It caused a rush of butterflies to swarm in her chest, and she sucked in a breath.
A profile photo was part of every patient’s file, but very few wore a smile as bright as the Bucks’ MVP. Most were mug shots, where a painful grimace distorted an attempted smile. Not Robert. His profile pic looked like a headshot straight out of Ford Models’ portfolio.
She took a deep breath to compose herself and re-read Robert’s introductory report and referral from Dr. Mendelson, chewing her lip a little more with each paragraph. Robert had presented with tremendous pain at the orthopedist’s office, but only displayed minor discomfort on his first day here. It concerned her because she thought he was downplaying his level of pain, and she made a note on today’s action plan to discuss it with him.
She was reviewing the third patient’s file when her phone rang.
“Yes, Amy?”
“Mr. Blade is here.”
The corners of Amber’s mouth automatically curled into an involuntary smile. “Please ask him to come into my office.”
“Right away.”
Amber closed her laptop and waited with her hands folded and eyes on the door. When she heard the knock, she stood and said, “Come in.”
The chipper expression on Robert’s face could only be described as glowing. He didn’t look like someone who was hiding pain, and he was walking better than when she last saw him on Friday.
“Morning,” he said, stepping into her office and shutting the door. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” She gestured to the chairs opposite her desk. “Please take a seat.”
She watched him as he walked to the chair closest to him and sat down. No limp. She chose to stand. Best not to get too comfy. “I wanted to discuss your level of pain.”Which seemed minimal.
