Illicit acollection, p.329
Illicit: A Contemporary Romance Collection, page 329
“You know, you should really try some of the ginger, it adds that special something.” Though he didn’t smile, the corners of his eyelids creased, as if he were holding back the laughter.
All right, she understood the game, but she wouldn’t be a pawn. “Tell me more about your clinic.”
“There needs to be something different out there. Something where different medicines can converge to treat the patient to the fullest. Focus on the prevention and education.” As if he could already see the building, he sat back and gazed out at the empty field.
“And you don’t feel you can do that in your current practice?” She wondered if this need to open up a wellness center came out of what happened to his sister.
He turned to her. “Why don’t you tell me why I can’t do it in my current practice?”
A challenge. She was up for it. This man might have the largest practice in the county, but nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the wilds of plastic surgery in Los Angeles. Before answering, she took another bite of a roll, not only adding the ginger to his liking, but showing off her fancy moves with the chopsticks. Once he seemed impressed, she spoke. “Your current practice is family run. The good old mom and pop doctor’s office. Even if you tried to change the medicine there, it wouldn’t be well received. You need to start in a fresh place and though doctors are notoriously lacking in marketing and matters of business, you recognize you have to have a brand to pull it off.”
“When can you start working for me?” His intense focus on her made her squirm, but was also welcomed. She couldn’t remember the last time someone truly wanted to hear what she had to say, really saw her.
“I was about to ask you that same question.” Meeting his challenge, she raised her chin.
“Not so fast.” His tone rang out a warning.
“Did you already purchase this property?” She forced herself to maintain eye contact, but her cheeks still heated.
He raised his eyebrows. “It’s a work in progress. I need to make a decision. Another developer is looking at it.”
“Well, I can make your decision easier.” There, she laid it on the line, now she only had to get him to bite.
“I think we better get going. We need to watch your shoe.” He stood, took her bento box, and after throwing everything in the trash, offered her his arm.
Without a second thought, she hooked her arm in his, and let him lead her away. Wasn’t that always the way with doctors? They set the pace. She had to wonder if one of their classes at medical school was on how to mold others to fit their needs. “Doctor.”
“You know? You should go on over to the nursing home, they always need samples there. That might be a great account for you.” He raised his face up to the mid afternoon sun.
“Doctor.”
He peeked down at her. “Did you have a question, Gwen?”
“I wanted to thank you for fixing my shoe.” Yes, she let him set the pace, but she promised herself she would win.
7
“Are you ready?” Tennis racket in hand, Kirk slammed his locker at the country club closed. Since his lunch with Gwen three days ago, he felt like he needed to do something, take action. Maybe a tennis game was a small thing, but he needed an outlet.
His friend, Pearce Alton, put a visor on and glanced in the mirror. “Not everyone is here yet. Let’s wait a few.”
“What do you mean not everyone is here yet?” He walked over to his friend’s locker and slammed it shut. “I invited you and we’re going to have a game.”
“This is like your coming out party. I had to invite the rest of the foursome. You know, it’s been two years since we’ve stepped onto the court, since…” Pearce shook his head. “Since Jennifer,” he let his voice trail off and sighed.
Kirk sat down on the bench. At least the man had the guts to say his sister’s name, Kirk had to give him that. Their game didn’t need to be whole sporting event, complete with a knock down drag out competition. All he wanted to do was hit some balls around.
“What brought on this sudden invitation?” Pearce asked.
How did he describe it? The last few days a strange restlessness had overtaken him. “Do you ever think things are moving around you and you’re just standing still?” Too long he had been in limbo. It was time to forge ahead and make a plan. He couldn’t be held back any longer. His father would have to accept the fact he needed to move on.
Pearce shrugged. “I’m usually the one moving while others are doing nothing.”
No, the man didn’t get it, he wondered if any would understand. “I’m thinking of buying that piece of land on the corner of Main and Walnut and putting a wellness center there.” His friend was one of the premier contractors in the area.
“Interesting.” Pearce rubbed his chin. “There are a few people looking at that property. Besides, are you sure you don’t want to do that right in the practice you have?”
Kirk ground his teeth together. Gwen understood right away, but everyone else asked this same question. “No, I don’t want it in my current practice.”
“Then do you want me to build it for you?” Pearce winked at him.
“Well, I wasn’t going to go get a ton of building blocks. Yes, I want you to build it for me.” With a shake of his head, Kirk ran his hands through his hair. Maybe normal life wasn’t for him anymore. No one seemed to get it, get him. He didn’t fit in.
“Before you make the move, let me double check the zoning, and I’ll help you check out the competition.” Pearce propped up his foot on the bench next to him and adjusted his laces.
Shoes reminded him of Gwen and her shoe and how she had held on to him the entire trek back to his office. Of course, the thoughts of Gwen and her shoe also brought up another memory, that of his best friend asking her back to his office for more samples. He needed to get to the bottom of what Mason really wanted with his rep. His friend’s flirty tones, the way he called her back for more samples. What was up?
“Well, here we are!” As if the entrance was planned, Mason entered the locker room, followed by Barrett Young, crown prince to the Carousel Mall Kirk sent Gwen to when she first arrived in Clarefield. When did all roads suddenly lead to Gwen?
Ready or not, their entire foursome was back. Friends since elementary school when Mason first moved to Clarefield, they always seemed to end up meeting on a tennis court.
He shook Barrett’s hand. “How’s it going?”
“Busy as always.” Barrett threw some items in a locker and grabbed his racket.
“You should have called me.” Mason patted his shoulder. “You haven’t played in ages. On the other hand, I’ve kept myself in tip-top shape.”
Two years. It was two years. Kirk shrugged his friend off him. Maybe Mason needed to remember some important dates. “How often do you play?” Along with the man not telling him about their rep, apparently he also neglected telling him about his frequent tennis matches. Somehow his friend managed to go about his life even after losing the woman he was in love with, Mason fit in, the perfect doctor going through the motions. The man everyone adored. One side of Kirk wanted to pummel him, the other envied him.
“I don’t know. Whenever I can.” Mason spun his racket around. “But I’m glad to have my partner back.”
Pearce came over. “Are we going to do this or what?”
“Let’s switch things up.” To take control over the situation, Kirk gave Barrett a friendly push ahead. “Rather than physicians versus real estate, let’s have royalty versus the commoners. Come on Barrett.” Both the Richmonds and the Youngs were among the oldest families in Clarefield. Kirk was the fourth generation of their medical practice, and the Youngs owned large parcels of land, including the Carousel Mall. On the other side the Brauns owned one of the largest almond orchards, and Pearce’s grandparents came to town to start their construction firm.
“Fine, fine, the old money of Clarefield against the new money.” Mason elbowed him. “I accept your challenge.”
“What else have you accepted?” Kirk led the men out of the locker room.
Mason caught up to him. “Is this a test?”
They headed to the court.
“Seems to me someone has been getting more than his fair share of Libermycin samples.” Kirk watched his best friend’s reaction closely.
Mason let out a low chuckle. “She’s an open opportunity sampler.”
At the blatant innuendo, heat ran through him. Kirk stopped. “I think you’ve sampled enough.”
Mason stepped closer. “The question is, my dear oldest friend, is not what or how much I have sampled, but if you’re sampling anything?”
“Leave her alone.” Kirk tightened his hold on his racket until his hand ached.
His friend lifted his chin in challenge. “Do you want to hoard all the samples?”
Jaw tight, muscles ready to go off, Kirk inched closer. “She’s my patient.”
“Does that make her off limits?” Mason smiled.
Barrett stepped in between them. “Is this about that new pill girl?”
Mason elbowed him. “Yeah, the cute one I told you about.”
“What about her?” Kirk’s question came out more of a snarl.
Barrett shrugged. “The new gorgeous girl who hands out pills. Hannah said she’s been in the yarn store a few times. Had some trouble with her needlepoint.”
Both he and Mason stared at Barrett. Kirk didn’t need another bull to enter the ring. Not that he was in any ring, and this was definitely all bull.
“I’m just saying, my sister said she’s seen her.” Barrett backed away.
Pearce put his arms around Kirk and Mason. “Seems to me I need to make an appointment with the doctor, and get me some pills for whatever this rep doles out.”
“You’re a fool. You would take pills like candy just to meet a girl.” Kirk spun on his heel and stomped toward the court. What did he care who sampled what? Whatever Mason did was his own business. He needed to let it go. “Let’s play.”
The four men took their positions on the court. Where everything was restless before, the odd pairings made the world feel off kilter. Of course, he couldn’t remember the last time the world felt right, normal.
“Since you chose the teams, we’ll serve.” Pearce called out and hit the ball.
The little yellow orb flew over the net.
Rather than go after it, Kirk stood there.
Barrett ran behind him and hit the ball to the other side. “Are you playing or what?”
“Yeah.” Kirk readied himself, blinked and tried to focus.
Mason took the next shot, hitting back right at Kirk.
He went for the ball, only to hit it right into the net and have it fall flat on the ground. He ground his teeth together and all four of them approached the net.
Mason lifted his chin in Kirk’s direction. “That was just practice.”
“Like a sample?” The statement left his mouth beyond his control. So much for letting it go. While it wasn’t his job to police Mason, it was his job to protect Gwen. Who did she know here? He took a breath. Technically, that wasn’t his job either, and he didn’t want to apply for the position.
Mason narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you serve and we’ll start the real game?”
Kirk snatched the ball up, and once more, they took their positions.
“You got this,” Barrett told him.
His casual game suddenly turned into a tournament. Determined to win though he didn’t know the prize, he tossed the ball up in the air and slammed it over the net. The strength of his serve reverberated down his racket and through his arm. He watched as the yellow bullet jettisoned across the way missing Mason’s head by less than an inch and hitting the back wall.
“Hey!” Mason rushed to the net. “What was that?”
Rather than run, Kirk sauntered toward his friend. “I’m playing the game.”
“No, you’re not and I think that’s what’s wrong with you.” Mason climbed over the net. “I say we go back to our old teams. Something is off balance.”
“I think that may be a grand idea.” Barrett went to the other side of the court.
“Come on.” Mason elbowed Kirk and guided him into position. “What’s your deal? I only asked for more samples for my patients. I didn’t do any sampling over lunch at the vacant lot.”
Nothing was sacred in this town. “You can do what you want. I don’t care.” Kirk dismissed him.
Mason caught his arm. “I think you should do the sampling. In fact, I’m ready to write you a prescription for the rep. She’s just what the doctor ordered for you.”
“I don’t need a second opinion.” He didn’t need Mason’s permission to go after anything, but he also didn’t need to get involved with a woman who wanted to get out of Clarefield the second her promotion came though. Above all else, he didn’t need to explain himself.
“Come on man.” Mason patted his back. Just go have some fun, like the game today. Live a little, we’re not dead.”
Kirk’s chest tightened, and he looked across the net over at the rest of his friends. He didn’t need to sample, have someone flit into his life, make it better and then leave. The same restlessness came over him, but it wouldn’t be cured by a round of tennis. In truth, he didn’t know what he wanted. “Now that I think about it, I’m not up for a game.” Without giving further explanation, he left, unsure of his destination.
“Thank you, Dr. Halliwell.” At the nursing home, Gwen shook hands with one of the main doctors in the facility. “I’ll schedule a training session with the rest of the physicians.” She had to give it to Dr. Richmond, because the second she dropped his name they practically rolled out the red carpet. Did they even have red carpets in Clarefield? Either way, she got a front row seat with Nora Halliwell, a younger sweet, pretty doctor who specialized in geriatric medicine. For the first time, Gwen felt like she had an inside track on something in this town.
“We always need education and the samples.” The doctor handed her a business card. “Anyone who comes here with Kirk’s, I mean Dr. Richmond’s, endorsement is always welcome.”
The doctor’s words were exactly why she had to get the man as a KOL. He would help make her scripts number, and she could return home a success with the coveted job. In fact, they would have to roll out a red carpet for her in LA. Of course at the moment, if she didn’t get some doctors writing prescriptions she would either be stuck in Clarefield forever, or be shipped to some abandoned field. For all the little boxes of samples she handed out and all the ways she tried to push her antibiotic, her boss had informed her a few hours ago that the number of prescriptions written had flat lined.
“Thank you again.” She shook hands with the willowy brunette doctor and almost asked the woman if she would like to have coffee, a bottle of wine, go shopping, anything. Thus far aside from work, and some visits with Hannah, the yarn girl, her time in Clarefield had been spent pretty solitary.
Except for work. She stretched out her calls in an effort to have any human contact, which was definitely lacking. Other than video conferencing with her best friend, Gwen hardly spoke with anyone. Once she was home at her Clarefield apartment and her Los Angeles friends went about their evening, she was stuck alone with no one and too much quiet, no matter how loudly she turned up the television. Even then it was better than having to answer tons of questions about her and Derrick. Would her friends ever stop interrogating her about her former relationship? They were obsessed. Until she could go back with her head held high, better without Dr. Derrick than with him, she wouldn’t be tripping the light fantastic anywhere near the city.
“I have to go on my rounds.” The doctor smiled and waved. “Don’t be a stranger.”
Gwen decided not to tell the doctor that wouldn’t be a problem. Instead, she gave the nice woman a smile in return and walked through the facility, watching some of the residents. A few women were gathered around a craft table, and some men around a chess set. Everyone seemed to be in some group or other.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied one woman off on the sidelines working on an intricate needlepoint. Yes, she recognized it was needlepoint, she was an expert now.
She tiptoed a little closer.
“Are you going to stare from over there, or do you want to actually take a look?” The woman moved her reading glasses down her nose and motioned her over.
With no more calls for the day, Gwen went to her side and sat down on the chair next to her. The woman held up her masterpiece, a medieval picture complete with a castle, and intricate flora and fauna and a dragon complete with blazing fire from its mouth.
“That’s incredible. I’ll never be able to do anything like this. May I?” Gwen lifted a finger to trace the stitches.
“Of course,” the woman held it out toward her for a moment, “Do you needlepoint?” Once Gwen sat back, the woman continued on with her work.
“I try.” For a moment Gwen simply watched her. The lady seemed at one with the yarn, the canvas, the needle. She didn’t take a stitch and then look at the directions or try to fix her mistakes. “You work so fast.”
“Time will take care of itself.” The woman spoke without skipping a beat, or a stitch. If Gwen as much blinked while she needlepointed, she lost track of where she was at with her project. “At least you’re trying.”
“Not succeeding.” Gwen laughed and went to get up. She might as well get home to all of the nothing. “At anything.”
The woman raised her hand and stopped her. “Then you need to slow down.”
“I’m in sales. I can’t slow down.” Still, at having anyone to talk to, she slumped back in her seat.
“You’re new in town. People are still getting used to you.” The woman resumed her needlework.
Wait. Gwen moved her chair closer. “How did you know I was new in town?”
The lady gave her one of those looks that told Gwen she knew everything. She shrugged. The woman was old enough to know everyone in town since its inception. At her snarky thought, Gwen frowned.
