Page 145 of The Doctors Will See You Now

And three rings later, his voice in my ear.

“Dr. Shepard.”

“Hello, Scott,” I greeted. “How are you doing on this beautiful Monday morning?”

“Uh…who is this?”

“My name is Harlow Paige, and I write—”

He cut me off. “That Gossip column,” he said and I smiled. He’d been paying attention, it seemed. “I know who you are, Miss Paige, but what I’d like to know is why are you calling me?”

“I have a few unanswered questions.”

“According to what I’ve heard, you write about me like you know it all.”

I grinned into the empty space of my office and tried not to let his fast-talking ways get me off track.

“Well, now I have more.”

“And you think I have the answers?”

He had the fucking answers, all right. Whether or not he gave them to me was another thing entirely.

“I’m certain you do.”

“All right.” He chuckled, completely at ease. He obviously wasn’t too upset about the call either. “Even though this conversation will no doubt end up in another one of your columns, I’m intrigued. How can I enlighten you?”

“It appears that you had a very busy and interesting evening last night,” I stated and silence filled the line. There’s no way he forgot about the four women, right? “At Club Indigo…” I hinted, and he finally cured himself of amnesia.

“Oh. Oh, yeah. I was at Club Indigo last night enjoying drinks with a few friends.”

Jesus. How often did this man find himself surrounded by models? Was it, like, an every night thing? Or like an every Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday thing? How did it work with this guy?

“A few friends?” I questioned, but I couldn’t hide the sarcasm from my voice. “I’m sure you mean a few women.”

“Well, I know this might come as a surprise, but I do have friends that just so happen to be women,” he retorted, and I couldn’t stop myself from smirking at his response.

He was good. Too fucking good.

“And the mystery woman you left with? Who is she?”

“Mystery woman?” he avoided.

“Yeah,” I answered. “The brunette in the killer heels that you left Club Indigo with last night.”

“Hmm…” he started and then paused for a brief second. “I left with a brunette in killer heels? You know, that sounds like something I’d enjoy, but for some reason, I don’t remember it.”

I shook my head and tossed my pen on top of the photos I’d printed out for closer inspection.

“You know what’s crazy, Dr. Shepard?”

“What?” he asked, amusement lengthening the sound of his A.

“That I’m sitting here, looking at a photo of you holding hands with the brunette as the two of you leave Club Indigo.”

“Really?” he questioned, but his voice lacked any kind of concern. “That is crazy.”

“Oh, c’mon, just tell me the truth,” I coerced, turning my voice slightly seductive in the hopes that playing his game would pad my score. He chuckled softly.