Page 59 of The VIP Doubles Down
“Let me bring my chair over.”
“I’ll do it. I don’t want you carrying anything heavy.” She took hold of his wrist to stop him.
“It rolls, sweetheart. And I’ve recently carried you a few times without causing serious damage.” He savored her blush as he ran his free hand along her other arm, just to bother her. “By the way, you’re touching me.”
She released him. “Not in that way.”
He laughed and wheeled his chair over to her desk. Allie clicked around the series bible database, peppering him with questions about how he used the cross-referencing, how much information he needed about a character, and more.
After forty-five minutes, he pushed his chair back and rolled his head around to stretch the tight muscles. He’d wanted to savor the warmth of her nearness, the faint floral shampoo scent of her red hair, the rustle of her cotton blouse as she moved her arm. Instead, he’d had to focus all his mental powers on her queries and suggestions.
“Leave me a few brain cells for writing,” he said.
She fidgeted with the mouse. “Am I sucking out all your creativity?”
“No, no. You’re just making all my assistants before you look bad.” His cell phone buzzed from the desk. He glanced at the caller ID to see it was Ben Cavill. Frowning, he picked up the phone. “Excuse me,” he said to Allie, standing and moving away so she could concentrate on the job she insisted on doing.
He’d met Ben through Nathan and had signed on with his concierge medical service. The doctor had given him his annual physical a few months ago, declaring Gavin healthier than he’d expected of a man who spent too many hours sitting in front of a computer.
“Did you mix up the test results and just discover I’m dying of a rare, incurable disease?” he asked the doctor in greeting.
“Lord, deliver me from writers,” Ben said. “Too much imagination, which begets hypochondria.”
“Well, you didn’t cure the one thing I asked you to.”
“There’s no known medical remedy for writer’s block. I take it you haven’t made any progress on that front?”
“A glimmer.” That was all he wanted to say about it. “If I’m not dying, what can I do for you?”
“Tell me about your physical therapist, Allie Nichols. I have a client who needs one, so I thought I’d get your feedback on how your treatment is going. If you recommend her, I’ll put the two of them in touch.”
A strange panic boiled up in Gavin’s throat. He didn’t want to share Allie with anyone else. He needed her to fan the faint embers of his creativity and warm the long, desolate hours of his sleepless nights. He stalled as he walked across the hall to the empty library. “When would your client want to start with her?”
“The sooner, the better.”
Gavin knew Allie needed the job. If she performed well, Ben would recommend her to other patients. “She’s knowledgeable and professional and has given me tremendous relief. There was noticeable progress in just a few days.” The panic reared up and howled, wrenching a self-preserving lie from him. “However, I know she’s booked solid for the next two weeks.”
“Damn. That’s the problem with good people. They’re always in demand,” Ben said. “I’ll keep her in mind for the next time. Thanks.”
Gavin rubbed at his chest as guilt tightened around it like an iron band. But at the same time, the shriek of his fear calmed to a mere whimper.
What kind of man had he become?
Allie swiveled in her chair to find Gavin scowling as he walked back into the office. “Is there a problem?” she asked. “You look ... unsettled.” Actually, he looked both annoyed and guilty, but she didn’t want to voice that.
“Because there’s a very sexy woman sitting in my office, and I’m not allowed to touch her.” He stood behind his chair and gave her a challenging look.
Although she felt the heat radiating from her cheeks, she refused to engage. “I have another question for you.” She pointed to the computer screen. “I keep seeing references to the titleHoliday Bestwith character names I don’t recognize. Is that an unpublished book?”
He grimaced. “It was the draft of a novella, set at Christmastime. I don’t know what came over me to thrust Julian into a schmaltzy setting like that.”
An unread Julian Best story! Excitement fizzed in her chest. “May I read what you wrote?”
“It’s a rough draft, and it’s unfinished.” But he rolled her chair sideways so he could get to her keyboard. “Here it is. Just don’t ever tell anyone else about it.”
“Was it Jane’s idea?” It was hard to imagine Gavin’s decision to write about a happy family holiday. But she was beginning to get glimpses of the humanity under the snark. It worried her, because he was already too enthralling.
“Good God, no. In fact, she was skeptical but willing to give it a look.”
