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Truthfully, I hadn’t lied to him because Santiago was a bad boss, but for entirely opposite reasons. For one, I knew that I was an important member of our small team and felt bad about potentially taking time off. Especially since Dr. Morales, for all his compassion, was a stickler about taking vacation days, insisting that we were all there to do important work which shouldn’t be ignored in favor of having fun on a beach somewhere.
This mentality informed my other, more humiliating, justification which was that I had a small crush on my boss. It was impossible to ignore how Santiago seemed to be exactly the man I was looking for—he had a stable, well-paying job, was mature but not stuffy, and was incredibly respectful.
If that wasn’t enough, Dr. Morales was very handsome and had a habit of innocently flirting with me whenever we were alone in the office. He’d run a hand through his salt-and-pepper curls and chuckle in his deep voice about whatever joke I’d made and I’d almost melt in a puddle on the floor.
The only problem, the one that kept me dating the idiots my age, was that Santiago was my boss and to make a move on him would be extremely inappropriate. Still, there was a nagging voice in my head that reminded me that there were only so many men like him in the immediate vicinity and that beggars couldn’t be choosers.
It felt good to add another patient to my roster, which only seemed to grow as my attraction to my boss grew. Maybe working on this new guy would take my mind off of Dr. Morales long enough for those thoughts to disappear entirely—a girl could only hope.
Chapter Four
Amelia
Fortherestofthe week, I worked out the details of Mr. Adams’s care with Nurse Muñoz without speaking directly to my patient, which I thought was odd. But his nurse assured me that he was a very wealthy man and his wife had threatened to sue their hospital if he didn’t receive the best care which is why they were relying on directly contacting me.
That bit of news made me frown when I heard it and start reconsidering what I’d agreed to. Had I just signed up to help some rich asshole with his physical therapy while his wife sent us—what I hoped would be—empty threats the entire time?
My enthusiasm had been completely tainted by my distaste for Mr. and Mrs. Adams’s behavior by the time his first appointment rolled around. Nurse Muñoz had called the day before to let me know he was being transferred home and would be in town and on time for his meeting with me this afternoon. I had to stop myself from begging her to replace me because I hated the idea of catering to someone so awful for such a long time.
I’d been reminded as I talked to the nurse and heard her calm voice about the nature of our business—helping those in need, regardless of their personality or situation—and hung up with the resolve to take care of Mr. Adams as quickly as possible.
I sat behind my desk, watching the clock tick down the minutes until this wealthy jerk would arrive, presumably rolled in by his equally disrespectful wife. To my surprise, at three o’clock on the dot, there was a soft knock at my door and then Mr. Adams came hobbling in alone.
He was already on crutches and instinctually, I rapidly rounded my desk to help him into his seat. “Ms. Roberts?” my new client said, offering his left hand with an awkward smile. “I’m Joshua Adams. Thank you for agreeing to help me with this.”
He gestured to his knee, and I glanced down at it to see that even with the brace on, that part of his leg was very swollen. I got him settled and finally shook his hand, looking at Mr. Adams’s face for the first time.
I had to suppress a gasp—the man from my fantasies had come to life, almost. Sure, in my dreams he didn’t have a torn ACL, but everything else was how I’d imagined it. I stared at him, taking in the features I’d conjured up while tangled in my sheets, and Mr. Adams gazed back with confusion in his chocolate-brown eyes.
He brought his hand up to swipe at his stubbly cheeks. “Do I have something on my face, Ms. Roberts?”
There was a lilt of amusement in his voice and I almost responded in kind when I remembered who I was dealing with. Didn’t men like him use their charm to beguile others and shift the power balance in their favor? Well, this physical therapist wouldn’t fall for that.
I gave him a brusque shake of my head and replied, “No, Mr. Adams. I was simply assessing the rest of you. Here at Body, Heart, and Mind, we practice a holistic approach.” My patient raised an eyebrow and I immediately added, “We don’t use crystals or anything like that, just a…whole-body approach so that by the end of your time with us here, you’ll hopefully feel like a new man.”
That seemed to satisfy him and I returned to my chair, leaning on my elbows at my desk in a position I hoped appeared authoritative.
“Well, I suppose you’ve heard all about me,” Mr. Adams said with a small smile.
“I have.” Probably more than he thought.
“So where do we start?” he asked, leaning back in his chair casually. “I appreciate your help but I’d like to get back up and running soon.”
I pushed a folder in his direction. “This contains your wellness plan, Mr. Adams—”
“You can call me Josh,” he interjected with a smirk, one hand resting cockily on his upright crutch while the other was draped over the arm of his chair.
“Fine,Josh. As I said, this has all the basic information you need to know before our next visit. Since this is simply a consultation, I won’t be doing any work on you today,” I concluded, doing my best to keep my voice friendly despite his smarmy interruption.
“Thanks, Ms. Roberts—can I call you Amelia?” Josh queried with a playful tilt of his head. “I always try to use a woman’s first name when her hands are going to be all over me.”
I couldn’t have stopped the flush that spread up my cheeks at his comment even if I tried.
And he saw, his grin growing wider at my flustered state. “Listen,Mr. Adams,” I said with an even tone, “I’ve heard how you treated the nurses at the hospital you came from and I want you to know right now that I’m not that kind of girl. You can’t just push me around and expect me to take it.”
His face fell and I relished in it. “I wasn’t pushing you around,” Josh clarified with a look of indignation, “I—”
“Be that as it may,” I continued, cutting him off, “if this is going to work, you need to treat me with respect, Mr. Adams. And that includes not making those kinds of jokes.”
