Page 24 of The Potter

She thinks about my words for a moment and then shrugs her delicate shoulders. “Oh, well, he probably needs the money more than I do. Besides, he wouldn’t get but a few bucks anyway.”

And this is why she needed a ride home. “I realize you’re from a tiny town in Georgia, where the worst thing that happens to people is a flat tire, but here, you need to be more aware of your surroundings. You’re too trusting.”

Those wisps of blonde locks framing her face distract me when she turns, a few strands of hair getting stuck at the corner of her plump lips.

“Thanks for the helpful tip, Dr. Potter, but you know jack shit about me or my hometown.”

She finally finds what she’s looking for, the lock, and pulls it up, snatching her purse and getting out of the car. “I can take care of myself.” She slams the car door, but then, that sweet southerner kicks in, and she looks to the sky before adding, “Have a great evening, Dr. Potter. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I could call a board meeting and have her dismissed as an employee. Astor knows it’s unprofessional to have Halle working there, but the determination in her eyes as she offers me a small wave sparks a level of curiosity I didn’t know I had. Even if she’s scared or disappointed, she powers through, determined to reach whatever goal she has in that sweet little head of hers.

Letting the window down, I try asking politely through clenched teeth, “Get back in the car.”

She gives me her back. “It’s okay, I can walk from here. My place isn’t that far.”

Dammit if she doesn’t piss me off in seconds. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Sure, you were, Dr. Potter. Bye!”

Fuck it.

I get out of the car and manage to catch up with her in a few strides, slipping my arms around her legs and tossing her over my shoulder in one motion.

“What are you doing?” she screams, her skirt blowing partly in my face. “Put me down!”

I realize I’ve now crossed over into unprofessionalism with this event, not to mention every single time I’m in front of Ms. Belle, but I can’t seem to manage to find the professional Dr. Potter when I’m around her. “I’ll put you down when you can do as you’re told and get in the car.”

“You don’t tell me what to do!” She kicks her legs, and I tighten my hold against the back of her thighs.

“It’s my responsibility to look out for my employees,” I lie.

The scoff she lets out only tightens my grip. “I work for your brother, not you.”

“Everyone works for me,” I growl. “Everyone.” She need not know the inner workings of our practice but suffice it to say, it is mine. Every inch.

We approach the car, and I manage to open the car door one-handed. “Are you going to get in the car, or do I need to help you with that, too?”

She considers her options for a moment and finally lets out a sigh and relaxes against me. “I’ll get in.”

Thank fuck.

Easing her down the front of my body, her softness against my hardness sends chills against my skin. “Thank you,” I manage when she bends, sitting in the seat with a rogue smile.

“Did that physically hurt you to say?”

No sense in lying to her. “Yes.” And then I slam the door, locking her in until I can get to the driver’s side and get situated, taking several deep breaths to calm my racing heart. “Let’s try this again,” I start. “Ms. Belle, I would like to give you a ride home, so you don’t get pickpocketed on the bus.”

“How very nice of you, Dr. Potter. Do you do this for all of your employees?”

It’s like she loves pissing me off. “No, actually. I tend to hire employees with more self-preservation.”

Immediately, I feel shitty after saying the words. Truth is, I don’t give a shit how my employees get home, but I know from Ms. Belle’s chart, she’s lived on a farm in a small town in Georgia. This is likely her first time in a big city. A city in which she came to alone, in search of me. I feel responsible that she gets home safely. I would have preferred she’d taken a plane home a week ago after our appointment, but since she seems determined to stay here, I feel like the least I can do is make sure she makes it back home in one piece, especially after today.

“Well, my apologies for failing to meet your expectations, but I really can take care of myself.”

Her tone has changed, and I know I’ve hurt her feelings.

I sigh. “Look—”

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