Page 11 of Physical Therapy

“Words didn’t seem to help,” I sass.

“You could have chosen to walk away.”

“A bit hard to leave when his car blocked mine.”

A beat passes with the two of us staring one another down. Her nostrils flare once, her jaw working as she rolls her lips. I’ve pissed her off. Good. Let’s see how the wonderful Dr. Potts deals with her frustration.

She draws a deep breath, closes her eyes briefly, and then exhales. “Witnesses report that you threw the first punch, Boe.”

As quick as that, she regains self-control. Hardly fair.

I scoot forward in the seat, elbows rested on my knees. “You know, you really are too attractive for this job, Edith.”

She lifts one eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“How do you handle the men who come in here with sexual addictions? Men who are desperate for a little romance in their lives, even.”

The slightest peek of her tongue, the smallest hint of a smile as she dips her chin to fidget with that damn pen. I wish she’d handle something of mine with the same gentle care.

“You mistake me as being delicate, Boe.”

I make a show of dragging my gaze the length of her. Right from those inquisitive eyes, down to her slender ankles. “I don’t think I do.”

“Your second conviction, then.” Edith clears her throat. “Did you not learn your lesson the first time, or were you simply undeterred?”

“I guess you’d say undeterred.” The same as I am currently. “You have no wedding band.”

“Unlike the first conviction, this victim took you to court.”

I rise with a sigh and head for her desk. She watches me with a frown. “No pictures of a significant other, either.” She opens her mouth to object when I press the home button on her phone, yet I cut her off. “None on your lock screen, too.” Although there is a curious picture of what appears to be a Tuscan sunset.

“Please sit, Boe.”

“I like to move around.” I pin her with a hooded stare, twitching the corner of my lips into a wry smile. “It releases pent up energy.”

“If you prefer.” Scribble, scribble. “Am I right in detecting no remorse for your actions?”

“Why would I regret telling a beautiful woman I find her attractive?” I navigate my way to the rear of her seat.

Interestingly, she chooses to remain face forward. However, the notepad is flipped on her lap. “You were ordered to pay reparations for your second victim. How did that make you feel?”

“As though I sponsored a child.” She stiffens, yet holds her ground when I lean down to whisper in her ear, “How about you, Edith? Would you like children one day?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Her skin pebbles with telltale goosebumps.

I pull in a deep breath as I move away, eliciting a rushed exhalation from the good doctor. “The idea excites you, though.” Her captivated gaze tracks me back to my seat. “Question is: is it merely children that excite you? Or is it the thought of children with me?”

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