Page 152 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“Of course,” my father answered immediately and hopped to his feet to let her pass through the small aisle. I followed his lead, albeit a little less gallantly, as I shoved my potato chips back in my purse and awkwardly stood out of her way with my bag pressed to my abdomen.

“Thank you,” she said with a soft smile and sat down in the empty seat beside my father. “I had hoped to get here earlier, but my son is always running a few minutes behind.”

My father glanced at the empty seat beside her, and she chuckled nervously.

“He’s answering a quick work call outside the doors,” she explained. “I swear, my Scotty doesn’t get a minute’s rest with his job.”

“I feel the same about my little Harlow,” my dad said with a soft smile. “It’s like pulling teeth to get her to go to a Broadway show with her dad.”

Little Harlow? Jesus Christ.

“Considering this is the third Broadway show we’ve seen in the past three weeks, I call baloney, Dad,” I chimed in. He chuckled, but his eyes never left the woman sitting beside him, and oddly enough, her gaze never left him either.

I glanced back and forth between them while they made small talk about the weather and then moved the conversation along to their favorite Broadway shows. Seeing as they didn’t know each other from Adam, I was a bit shocked by how easily their conversation flowed, and the fact that my father was actually showing interest in chatting up a woman.

For the past decade, the man had seemed content to stick to his routine, never once seeking out female companionship, apart from his time with my mother and Jean-Pierre.

“I’m Nicole, by the way,” she said with a shy smile, and my father grinned in response.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nicole. I’m Bill.”

Surprisingly, the next twenty minutes continued that way. The two of them chatted, while I sat back in my seat, daydreamed about my goddamn potato chips, and counted the lines of the ornate ceiling mindlessly.

It was only the sudden movement of Nicole hopping to her feet that pulled my attention away from my snack fixation. If you ever want someone to want something so badly they can hardly breathe, tell them they can’t have it.

“Oh! Scotty! Over here!” she whisper-yelled toward the main aisle, and my gaze followed her line of sight.

A tall, dark, and handsome drink of a man—at least that was how he appeared from my current shoulder, back, and tight ass view—stood a few feet away from my seat scanning the room across from us. The sound of Nicole’s voice did as she intended, though, grabbing his attention and turning it—and his body—toward us. Familiar chocolate brown eyes flashed with recognition when he finally spotted Nicole, and I nearly fell out of my seat.

Holy shit. It’s Scott Shepard.

What were the fucking odds?

“Scotty,” Nicole whispered again, for what purpose, I didn’t know and didn’t care. I was too busy hyperventilating. Dr. Erotic grinned as he strode toward our aisle.

The chances were fifty-fifty, whether he would give us his back or his front for the theater aisle shuffle, but as he got close, turning to the side and rearranging his feet to slide in, I knew I’d lost the odds. Fuck. He’s giving us the face.

Holy moly, I could not believe Scott Shepard’s mother was the one who’d been chatting with my father for the past twenty minutes.

I should have bought a fucking lottery ticket.

I did my best to shield my face with my hand, but my father was no help. Nudging me to stand up and let Scott into our row, he had no idea what a terrible fucking job he was doing of covering for me until it was too late. Even then, he didn’t really know what a clusterfuck he’d created. But I knew. Boy, did I know.

“Excuse me,” Scott said as the front of his body got close enough to heat the front of mine. It was nothing more than a polite statement to apologize for such an intimate position, but when his eyes locked with mine, recognition instantly set in. It took a moment for his mind to catch up with his eyes, but when it did, a slow, easy smirk kissed his lips. I wasn’t sure if it was all in my head, but it felt like it took him a tremendously long time to move on from me to the empty spot beside his mother.

“Scott,” his mother said the second his extremely fine ass touched his seat. “We have the best seat mates tonight.” She tossed a soft smile directly at my father.

“It appears that way,” he responded with a grin and a brief, and surprisingly not violent, glance in my direction.

Relief set in when it appeared that he might have just recognized me from my stint in his ER and hadn’t yet realized I was, in fact, the gossip columnist who’d written a few, and slightly embellished, articles about him.

Okay. This can work, Harlow. Just play it cool and avoid saying your name at all costs.

But that hope only lasted for all of ten seconds.

“I’m Bill Paige, by the way,” my dad introduced himself and shook Scott’s hand. “And this is my daughter, Harlow.”

Ah, fuck.