Page 83 of Look, Don't Touch

“Yep.” A lot of people drop off appointments around the holidays, and then they’re back with a vengeance after the new year. New year. New you. And all that. “I can probably shift Mrs. Friedman to nine, and then we can leave after. If that works? She doesn’t do technology.”

“That bat is younger than me.” Nat balks.

“And yet.” I wave a hand as if nonchalant. Truly, I hope it’ll be enough to keep us here.

“It’s fine.” My aunt winks. “We have the plane whenever we need it. I’d just like to get there and back before the weekend is lost to us. Astor can’t go anyway. Booked up and has something with her dad Saturday.”

It sucks that Astor can’t go, but it’s kind of fitting that Nat and I do this on our own. “Laurent has a plane?”

“No, Hay Bale.” Her beautifully styled silver mane shakes. A smile stretches her cheeks.

The hair on the back of my neck stands, on high alert, as if my office is about to be invaded. My gaze skitters around, finding nothing amiss. Except my aunt.

“My boyfriend doesn’t have a plane, but yours does.”

My mouth hangs for several seconds. She uses my shock to her advantage and flees.

Boyfriend!

First of all, Arlo is a man. A big, strong, beautiful, devilish man. Second of all, I’ve never had a boyfriend. No one to call mine. A thrill skitters through me and then falls off the cliff of despair. He’s not my boyfriend. He can’t be mine. Even though he already said he is mine.

How dare she call him that?

I’m up and rushing across the room in a heartbeat. I rip the door open just as she settles into her seat behind the small desk.

“That’s why his number was on that neon sticky note.” I bellow. “You snuck into his file to call him about using his plane?” I don’t give her time to respond. My blood is churning. “That’s a HIPPA violation!”

Just then, the hallway door opens, and my next patient, a younger woman with a bright smile and blond curls, stands in the gap. Her smile slides off her face. “Um, should I wait out here…or, uh…”

I jerk upright and realize that I’d been leaning over Nat with the fires of hell billowing from my ears. “I’m sorry, Maggie. Please come in. My assistant and I were just having a heated debate.” I shove my hair back over my shoulders. “I’ll be right with you.”

“It wasn’t, by the way.” Nat grins and tosses me a wink. “I can make calls about appointments. It’s my job, after all.”

“Appointments. Not airline tickets,” I whisper.

“Potato. Patate,” she says the last in her thickening French accent.

I rush to my office, leaving Maggie behind for the moment, and grab my phone. My fingers are flying before I come up with a plan.

Why are you being so nice to me? I’ve not been exactly nice to you.

My intercom beeps. “How did you know I got his phone number? Oh, wait, I know. You opened his file.” Her sassy little voice pricks my already steaming nerves.

“Because you put it in my bag. Didn’t you?”

“Of course I did.” She chuckles. The woman dares to chuckle at my fraying edges. “He wanted to know how you were.”

“What did you tell him?” I shouldn’t encourage her, but I’m once more leaning forward, hovering over my aunt only this time it’s via the intercom.

“I told him that you missed him, but you wouldn’t dare admit it.”

Tears prick my eyes. I blink and swallow them back. “I do miss him.”

“Hay Bale.” Nat breathes. She sniffles. “Darling, I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah, we’re both crying, and I have a patient waiting to be seen. It’s a prideful moment,” I snark.

“It is.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

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