Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I’m standing, ready to go, when there’s a knock on the door again. Sarah opens it after two raps. She, too, has her jacket on. “Umm… Mr. Wright just walked in.”
I’m sure all the blood drains from my face. “I thought you canceled his appointment?”
“I did. He says he just needs to speak to you for a minute. Do you want me to turn him away?”
I consider it. That would take care of the immediate problem. But dealing with Gabriel requires playing chess, thinking two steps ahead. If I have her turn him away, will he wait outside the building? Approach me when I walk out? What if he follows me to my hotel, figures out where I’m staying? No. No. I can’t do that. I need to have some control of this game he’s obviously playing. So I take a deep breath in and blow it out.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll see him. You can show him in.”
Sarah nods. “Okay. But I’m staying until he’s gone.”
For once, I don’t want privacy with Gabriel. I want to be able to yell for help, if need be. So I nod back. “Thank you.”
Sarah disappears and returns a minute later. Gabriel’s towering figure is right behind her. I hate that I notice how good he looks, how the scruff on his face highlights his strong jaw, and how his thick, dark eyelashes line his captivating eyes so perfectly. I muster a smile. “Thank you, Sarah.”
Gabriel waits until she closes the door to move. Then he strides confidently to the couch and takes a seat. His arms splay wide across the top, like he’s relaxed, comfortable even. I am anything but. I keep my distance, standing behind my chair, rather than sitting in it, like I normally would.
“Hello.” I nod. “Sarah said you wanted to speak to me for a minute?”
There’s a ghost of a grin on his lips. Unless you were specifically looking for it, most people wouldn’t notice. But I do.
“Why did you cancel my appointment?”
If he’s going to act like everything is fine, so am I. “You can’t be my patient anymore, Gabriel. I think you know why.”
He rubs his bottom lip with his thumb. “Okay. But if I’m not a patient anymore, there shouldn’t be any issues with us seeing each other. Correct?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Gabriel’s eyes drop down to my hands, where I’m holding the chair. I’m gripping it so hard my knuckles are white. His eyes eventually lift to meet mine.
“Let’s go have a drink, talk outside the office. I can see it’s causing you stress to discuss things here.”
For my sanity, I need to know what he’s after. What game he’s been playing. So even though I know I’m messing with fire, I nod. “Blackstone’s is down the block, and it’s usually quiet. A restaurant with a small bar.”
Gabriel stands. “Lead the way.”
Sarah is still at her desk when we walk out of my office. I’d already forgotten about her. “Um, I’m going to walk Mr. Wright out.”
A cheeky grin blooms on her face. “Have a good night.”
My head is a jumbled mess as we stroll up the block. I’m not going to let on that I know he knows my true identity, so I’ll have to stick to my story about violating doctor-patient rules. It’s laughable, really. Sleeping with my patient is the least of my concerns at this point.
At the restaurant, Gabriel pulls out a stool for me, like he’s a gentleman and this is some kind of a date. It’s barely five o’clock, so the bar area is empty, except for us and the bartender. We order two glasses of wine, but I don’t touch mine. I need to be of sound mind. Well, as sound as it can be these days.
“So…” Gabriel says. He flashes a shy smile, and for the life of me, I would swear it’s genuine. “Was it that bad? That you ran out?”
I look down into my wineglass and shake my head. “The doctor-patient trust is sacred. It should never have happened.”
“But now you’re not my doctor.”
I turn and look him in the eyes. “Did you follow me? The other night… after?”
“What?” Gabriel’s eyes narrow. He rears back. He looks offended. “No. Clearly you needed some space. Why would you ask that?”
This man is either the world’s best liar or he’s telling the truth. But how can that be? Could he have picked up the keychain and not known who it belonged to? If he had found it on the street the day we crashed into each other, why would he have kept it? And everyone knows the colors of the New York hockey team…
My thoughts are interrupted by a voice. A familiar female one.
“Meredith?”
I turn to find Irina standing there. Next to her is her husband, Ivan.