Page 44 of Check & Chase
“Recorded our next session.” I stare out at the city lights, avoiding Emma’s gaze. “Caught her propositioning me, threatening to falsify medical records if I didn’t comply. Took it to the team’s legal department.”
“And they believed you?”
“Eventually. There was a settlement, non-disclosure agreements all around. She left with a payout and her reputation mostly intact. I got labeled as ‘difficult’ and traded to a new team with warnings to stay away from the medical staff.” The bitterness creeps into my voice despite my efforts to keep it neutral. “I came here a year ago thinking it’d be a fresh start. Turns out, the rumors got here first.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, processing. Then she says something unexpected. “I believe you.”
Three simple words. Not “I’m sorry that happened” or “That must have been hard,” but clear, unequivocal belief. It hits me harder than I expected.
“Thanks.” I clear my throat, uncomfortable with the emotion threatening to surface. “Anyway, that’s the sordid tale Tyler was referencing. Probably not the version he told you.”
“No,” Emma agrees. “Definitely not.”
We fall quiet again, but this time the silence feels easier.
“The flowers were from him,” Emma admits suddenly. “Tyler. In case that wasn’t clear from Carina’s meltdown.”
“I figured.” I study her profile in the dim light. “Ex-boyfriends who send unwanted flowers are usually bad news.”
“He’s trying to mess with my head.” She turns the sleeve of my jacket between her fingers, a nervous gesture I haven’t seen from her before. “It’s what he does.”
“Is it working?”
She looks up, meeting my gaze directly. “No. But him telling everyone I ‘still want him’ is going to make my job more complicated.”
“People know what West is like,” I assure her. “No one who matters will believe him.”
“I hope you’re right.” She shivers slightly despite my jacket. “I should go. Early start tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk you outside.”
“On crutches? I don’t think so.” The professional PT is back, assessing my stance with a critical eye. “You’ve been on that knee too long already.”
“I’m fine,” I insist, though she’s not wrong. The throbbing has intensified over the last hour.
“Liar.” But she says it with a hint of affection rather than her usual exasperation. “Stay here, rest your knee. I can find my own way out.”
She slips off my jacket and hands it back, her fingers brushing mine in the exchange.
“Thank you for the rescue. And for telling me the truth about Amber.”
“Anytime, Blondie.”
She rolls her eyes at the nickname but doesn’t correct me. Progress.
As she reaches the terrace doors, I call after her, “See you for PT tomorrow?”
Emma pauses, looking back over her shoulder. “Try not to do anything stupid with that knee before then.”
“No promises.”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she disappears back into the ballroom, leaving me alone on the terrace with the lights of Pinewood spread out below and a warmth in my chest.
I stay out there longer than I should, replaying everything. Her voice, the way she leaned into me when Tyler showed up, the look in her eyes when I told her about Amber. There’s something building between us, and it’s getting harder to pretend I don’t feel it.
It’s risky. She’s my physical therapist. There are rules. Lines we’re not supposed to cross. And she’s got those walls up like her life depends on it.
But still… I want to cross them. Not just because it’s exciting, though it is, but because Emma Anderson feels different.Real. Like maybe she matters more than I want to admit.
