Page 13 of Accidentally Sliding Into A Second Chance

The phone rings through my speakers a few times before Travis’s playful voice picks up. “I was wondering when you’d call after Logan spilled the beans.”

“I had planned on waiting till tomorrow, but you know how I am.”

“I’m learning,” Travis laughs, his voice turning serious. “What do you want to know?”

“What do you know about David’s wife, Fiona, and her illness?” Knowing more will help me form a game plan.

“Very little,” Travis explains. “I wasn’t here when all of that went down. I started with the Smokies a year or two after her death, and by then he was back to the same level of play before they found out she was sick.”

Well, I guess talking to Travis isn’t going to be as helpful as I had hoped.

“Finn Mitchell, David’s agent, is probably who you’ll want to talk to for any of that information.”

“Finn Mitchell,” I slowly roll the name off my tongue, knowing it sounds familiar but drawing a blank as to why.

“Yeah. His name probably sounds familiar because he’s been in a local gossip column with a few of his other clients.” Travis’ voice carries a hint of humor.

“Wait! Finn‘The Matchmaker’Mitchell?” I sputter.

“That’s the one!”

I’m intrigued already. “I’ll double-check with David to make sure he’s comfortable with me talking to him. But I definitely think Finn’s perspective will be helpful.”

My heart flutters at the thought of spending time with David, alone. Well, alone with Scarlett and Emmy. I huff a laugh, and the corners of my eyes crinkle. Those two girls are probably driving him crazy.

The moment my gaze connected with the frazzled man running his hand through his hair, I knew I wanted to get to know him better.

“You work fast!” Travis’ voice pulls me back to our conversation.

“You hired me to do a job, and I have no intention of doing it half heartedly.” Even if my heart might be more involved with my work than usual. “Hey, I gotta go. Thanks for picking up, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Call anytime,” Travis chirps.

Three beeps spill through the speaker as I pull into the medical center’s full parking lot. My pulse races, and without thinking, I park in the first space available. Opening the email confirming my appointment, I refresh my memory for Dr. Carlson’s suite number.

When I get to the building entrance, I run up the last three steps and hold the door for an elderly couple.

“Thank you, dear.” Smiling, I let them walk out before stepping in and reading the list of names on the bulletin until I find Dr. Carlson’s name on the list.

When I reach his office, the door swings open in my face. I back up to let the person coming out through before putting my hand on the door and stepping over the threshold.

Elevator music plays through the speakers, and I cringe. I know it’s supposed to be relaxing, but I personally hate it. Laughter rings out from behind a glass divider, and I turn to find an older woman saying something to one of her co-workers before she turns her welcoming smile to me.

“May I help you?” Her sparkling green eyes are warm, and I immediately feel the knots in my stomach loosen.

“I’m Catherine Bailey. I have a five-thirty appointment with Dr. Carlson.” She picks up a clipboard with paperwork and a pen and slides it across the desk.

“Take a seat over there and fill these forms out.” Following her finger, I see some empty seats lined up against the wall. “Bring them back when you’re done.”

Heading in the direction she pointed, I sit down and place my purse on the empty seat next to me. Giving the form a cursory glance, I recognize it’s identical to nearly every other one I’ve completed over the last few years.

A short time later, I hand the clipboard back to her. “Here you go.”

“Perfect.” Her soft gaze is like a shot of calming juice and another knot loosens. “One of the nurses will call you from that back door when they’re ready for you.”

“Thank you.” I look over my right shoulder at the door in the corner, nod, and walk back to my seat. Before I settle in, I hear my name called.

“Catherine Bailey?” I glance up to find a different woman looking over the room. When I meet her gaze, she smiles, andgestures for me to come to her. I head the short distance and we walk into the back of the office. Turning right she ushers me into the first room. “You can make yourself comfortable. Dr. Carlson will be with you shortly.”

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