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I nod. “Yes.” I won’t paint the issue in pink paint. “Didn’t you notice how she cowers every time she comes near him, or he raises his voice?”
“And this tells you he’s hurting her.” She buckles up and crosses her arms across her chest.
I can see her replaying the scene in her mind.
“Yeah. There’s something about Mickey. Something he is taking great pains to hide.” I place the gears into reverse.
“I thought I was over thinking the situation, but yeah, I got that feeling too.” She sighs and slips the tablet into her bag.
“You’ve got good instincts Simmi. Never second guess them. Perhaps between the two of us we can solve the issue and help Alisha.” I move the gear, then drive down the long, bumpy drive to the main road.
“Okay.” Simmi purses her lips. Lips I need to devour.
What if her instincts about us are right? I can’t lose her, and I’m not talking about the attraction side. My clinic would be at an absolute loss without her.
“She wasn’t always like that.”
“Alisha?” I ask
“Yup.”
“She changed when her mother passed?” I assume.
“Actually, it was a bit before then. Her mother was newly diagnosed, and they left for Brisbane for a week for her mother’s treatment. It was when they returned that she started to change.”
Simmi’s voice takes on a tone I know too well.
“Her mother probably took the brunt of his abuse all these years, and now she’s gone…”
It’s hard when you know something’s wrong with a person but you can’t figure it out and Simmi takes all her patients to heart. This I know. It’s one of the things I admire most about her.
“Just see if you can get them to come in. I’ll make sure Mickey is Bundy for the entire day. Perhaps the two of you can slip out to the bodega or the coffee van? Somewhere she’ll relax.”
“Good idea.” She smiles, then leans her head back.
Her eyes flutter closed, her long black lashes sweeping down like a butterfly’s wing in slow motion. Her chest rises and falls before she opens her eyes again. “I need a beer.”
God she is beautiful.
The afternoon speeds by in a haze of patients and no time to weave my wicked magic, ending in an emergency down on the beach. I park the car in the garage behind the practice building.
“Well, that was one helluva end to our day. Drink?” I switch off the engine and open my door.
“Yeah, why not.” She smiles, exhaustion showing in her every word and gesture.
I lock up the garage and we stumble in through the back door to the reception desk where we both plonk down on the chairs. I reach into the small mini fridge behind the reception counter. It’s mainly used for staff lunches and the milk for teas and coffees, but I have continued the previous owner’s habit of stocking it with a few light drinks.
“Bundy and cola?”
When she nods, I hand her a tin.
