“Crazy Carl.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
Crazy Carl was the name given to a former drug addict turned carpenter who’d made quite a name for himself walking the streets at two in the morning singing the national anthem. Every. Single. Night.
“Who was the other guy?”
“Some tourist who saw her at the park. Found out her name, where she worked, started driving two hours every week just to ask her out face to face.”
“Desperate, much?”
“No shit. She called the cops when he wouldn’t leave the waiting room one day.”
“What’s his name?”
“Bennie Anderson, currently in jail for?—”
“Let me guess. Stalking.”
“Nope. Third DWI. Anyway no charges were filed; looks like the responding officer just had a chat with both guys and that was that. Jagg talked to the officer that handled both calls, said he laughed it off.”
A twinge of anger popped. Why? I shoved it away… until he said?—
“You know, your doctor is a hot commodity around town. Single. The town’s most eligible bachelorette. Anyway. All in all, I think you’re in good hands. Very sexy hands.” Gage sipped his beer. “So tell me about the appointment.”
“It was therapy. What do you want me to say?”
“I got that. I mean how did itgo?”
I chomped on a pickle and washed it down with a beer. Winning combination, by the way.
“She threw me out.”
“She what?”
“Something wrong with your hearing, bro?”
“Relax.” Gage picked up his beer. “I’m going to need a bit more,bro.What do you meanthrew you out?”
I stirred my chili, beginning to lose my appetite. And that was something. If anything, this new body of mine needed twice as much food as before. Three times, even.
“Feen—”
I huffed out a breath. “We had a little disagreement and she asked me to leave. That was it.”
“This disagreement didn’t involve the cops, did it?”
My gaze shot up. “No. Geez, what the hell do you think I am?”
The question went unanswered.
“You have to go back.” He said.
The snort that came out of me rolled into a full-blown laugh.
“Seriously, Feen, you have?—
