Page 85 of Just One of the Groomsmen
Add in his reputation, and she hadn’t gone out of her way to welcome him to the neighborhood.
“Whatever,” he said, his attention on his phone screen. “Just get me out of here as soon as possible. I’m literally losing hundreds of dollars sitting here.”
“Oh, I don’t know. If you calculate losing the use of your”—she glanced at the file again—“shoulder for a month because you didn’t take the time to let it heal, you might find taking an hour leaves you ahead of the game.”
He finally glanced up, a scowl on his admittedly handsome face.
Too bad the uptight, perma-annoyed vibe ruined it.
“I’m Addison Murphy. You probably know my parents, or if not, my nonna Lucia—everyone knows her.”
“You’reAddison Murphy?”
The way he said it made her nerves stand on edge. “Yes.”
“That one nosy lady who runs the craft store told me I should ask you out.” He frowned as he assessed her. “You’re not what I imagined when she told me you were the only single and available woman near my age in town.”
“Wow. You’re a real sweet talker. Lift your arm as high as you can. Stop when it catches.”
He did as she asked, and she gripped his wrist, moving his arm through a series of movements as she peppered him with questions about the injury and his pain levels.
“It must be nice to dress down for work,” he said.
“I’m assuming that the level of condescension you put into that sentence means you want my foot up your ass.”
He cleared his throat, his eyebrows arching. “Touché. What I mean is, I guess I should take you out for dinner sometime. Seeing as you’re the only available woman in town.” Just when she was considering pushing his arm back and testing his pain tolerance, he added, “And that you’re prettier than expected, and the feisty adds extra points.”
“Well, as flattering as that is, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I’m not as available as everyone thinks I am.”
“What does that mean? That you’re someone’s dirty little secret?”
That time, she couldn’t resist twisting—really, she needed to know what muscle needed the most work, and he could use some joint manipulation.
He let out a yelp and an “It was just a joke,” and she gave him a syrupy smile.
“I’m gonna place a few dry needles around the area to help relieve the pain and tightness, then I’ll send you home with some exercises to help repair and strengthen your shoulder. And if you want to prevent either of us from wasting time here, you’ll take them home and do them. After all…”
She thought of her friends’ teasing her about how much this hurt her dating odds, but luckily she had a guy who didn’t back down so easily—halfway had a guy, anyway.
“It’s somethin’ my grandma could do.”
Once she’d completed his treatment and paperwork and finished a quick session with one of her regulars, she stepped into the hallway and ran into her boss.Dammit.
“Were you nice to the lawyer?” he asked. “He, unlike most of the people in this town, actually has money to come in on a regular basis.”
“I worked out his shoulder and gave him exercises so he can get to healing, which I think is pretty nice of me. It’s also my job, so put a gold star on that.”
Moody Overlord frowned at her, and the frown deepened when he ran his gaze down her. “I’ve been thinking that we should revisit the dress code for the office. We need to be viewed as professionals.”
He was literally wearing jeans and a collared shirt that she guaranteed he only had on so he could hit the golf course later.
Factor in that he often made inappropriate comments about the receptionist, from what she was wearing to her body, and he was thelastperson who should be in charge of a dress code.
“I think doing our job, by definition, makes us professionals, so people should view us that way based on that.”
“Starting tomorrow, I want slacks and dressy shirts. Like button down or silky stuff.”
She wanted to ask ifhe’dbe following the policy. People dealt with a lot worse at work, so this was totally a first world problem kind of thing, but for months she’d told herself that at least she could wear whatever she wanted at her job.
