Page 61 of Love Out Loud

Chapter Twenty-Five

Mondays sucked. Well, this one did, anyway. Someone, probably Jane, had left a copy of a magazine article on Fiona’s exam table: an article titled,“The Pygmalion Project: A Study in Increased Success and Self-Esteem Based on the Cultivation of Improved Public Speaking Skills.”

Without a second glance, she picked it up and pitched it in the trash can. Hell, she should have put it in the biohazard bin. She wasn’t mad anymore, but she was hurt, regardless of whose idea it was or how hard it was for him to come up with a topic—it hurt. When her parents retired, she had never expected to be the subject of a research essay again. In fairness, she’d never talked about her parents other than in passing, and Jake had no way to know they’d published articles and even a parenting book based on her behavior.

She sighed and eyed the magazine in the trash. She’d only read bits and pieces. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed on a cursory skim.

Maybe it was worse.

Addison stuck her head in without knocking. “Good morning. Ready for your first one?”

“I am. Thanks, Addison.”

While she waited, she checked the stock in the cabinet and opened the wall dispenser to install a fresh box of exam gloves.

Behind her, the door opened, and she didn’t bother turning around, knowing Addison would get the animal prepared while she closed up the dispenser. She snapped the latch and froze. It didn’t smell like Addison. It smelled like expensive perfume.

She spun to find Charise, the gorgeous woman from Jake’s office. Why on earth would she be here?

“Good morning, Dr. Nichol,” she said. “I know you’re busy, but Jane said I could come on in.”

Jane.“I predict donuts in my future,” Fiona said.

“Pardon?”

She smiled. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

The exam room was an awkward place to visit with someone because there was only room for one chair, which meant Fiona was standing over the seated person. She considered suggesting they move to the break room, but in all honesty, she wasn’t really in the mood for a chat, especially since it was the article’s drop day or whatever it was called in magazine lingo. No doubt that was why Charise was here. Jacob had probably sent her as his emissary.

Charise had noticed the article in the trash and gestured to it. “Have you read it?”

Fiona leaned back against the exam table and heaved a sigh. “No need. I read it the day it was written.”

“Oh, so you read it last night?” she asked, voice chipper. “Good. Just wanted to be sure you read the most recent version. Great to see you,” she said, grabbing the doorknob. “Hope to see you again soon.” With a wave of her perfectly manicured fingers, she slipped out the door with a grin.

“I’m pretty sure I just got played,” Fiona muttered as she pulled up today’s schedule on the monitor in the corner. Brow furrowed, she studied the screen, then reloaded it.

“Two? I only have two patients today?”

That had never happened. Even slow days had a dozen or so.

The first slot was Boris for a follow-up on his skin, even though she’d told his owner it wasn’t necessary. The second was a new puppy check.

“Addison?” she called. Maybe there was some kind of glitch with the scheduling software. Didn’t matter, really. She’d see whoever walked in, as usual.

Addison entered with Boris in her arms. He was licking her while she struggled to keep her face turned away. Picking up a male bulldog was no easy feat, and Addison placed him on the stainless steel table with a grunt.

Fiona checked Boris’s ears, eyes, and vitals while Mrs. Krenshaw settled into the chair. “How’s your itchy face going, my friend?” she asked the dog.

“Much better,” Mrs. K said. “His breathing seems better, too.”

Fiona glanced up, then returned her attention to Boris. After a deep breath, she met the woman’s eyes directly and said, “Maybe allergy season is over for Mr. Boris this year, Mrs. Krenshaw.”

Behind her, Addison gasped.

Fiona pulled off her gloves and dropped them into the trash can on top of the magazine, hesitating for a moment as she stared at the first sentence of Jake’s article.

Sometimes, no matter how much experience someone has in an area of expertise, they are wrong in most or all of their initial assumptions. This is the dissection of such a case. It is also a heartfelt apology to the wronged party.

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