Page 3 of Necessary Roughness

“Will do.”

“You haven’t asked me who the client is yet,” he said.

“It’s no problem. Plus, it’s a little extra money.”

The money was secondary; she always got her reward when any client recovered with her help. Her coworkers made fun of her for being so idealistic, but it was always a good thing to be able to help someone else.

“Uh, yeah. About the money. I’m not sure it’ll be enough.”

“I don’t understand. Is the client uninsured or something?”

“Oh, no. He’s got all kinds of health insurance.” Marco bent his knee to take some of the stress off what must have been a painful foot. “He’s cranky.”

“Most of our clients are cranky,” Jordan said. “They’re in pain.”

Marco scanned the ceiling like there were answers written on it. “He brings a whole new definition to the word cranky. On a scale of one to ten, he’s a twenty-five.” He let out a sigh. “He’s been skipping appointments lately too. I don’t care because I’m still getting paid whether he shows up or not, but . . . ” His voice trailed off as the bell on the front door rang. “I gotta go.” He moved as quickly as possible to a doorway marked Employees Only.

Jordan wanted to run after Marco and ask why he was acting so weird, but she didn’t want to leave her client. Marco had been a physical therapist for twenty-five years. Maybe he was tired of dealing with the parents of high school athletes who were frantic that their child wouldn’t become an Olympian or professional athlete because of a sports injury. Most of the clients who made their way to Marco’s business were people who’d been in a bad car wreck, hurt themselves skiing, or fallen off a ladder while doing home repairs. They wanted to recover and move on with their lives. She knew he did his best with his clients, but he’d lost his zeal for the job a long time ago.

She glanced over at the front door as she heard the bell around the inside handle jingle and saw two tall guys edging through it. One was wearing a scowl, limping visibly, and pushing a walker. The other was holding the door so the first guy wouldn’t wipe out in a tangle of limbs and metal. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but from the look on Mr. Grumpy’s face, he didn’t want to be anywhere near physical therapy today.

It wouldn’t be the first time a patient wasn’t thrilled about going to a PT appointment. Hopefully he’d be a bit happier by the time he was done.

The grumpy-looking guy clomped up to the front desk, leaned over it, and said something to the receptionist. She shook her head. Jordan heard him say, “He said what?” all the way across the lobby. She wasn’t a mind reader, but she was guessing that this was Marco’s former client, and Britt the receptionist had told the guy Marco was out for a while. The receptionist got to her feet and gestured for Mr. Grumpy and his companion to follow her. They headed in Jordan’s direction.

Jordan took a deep breath. This guy looked like a gift-wrapped challenge.

Despite his irritated expression, the guy with the walker wasn’t hard on the eyes. He was tall with broad shoulders and a chest that tapered into a slender waist. He had long, thickly muscled legs, one of which was casted and sported a knee brace. His dark hair was an unruly tangle of waves and curls. As he got closer to her, she noted dark brows and long eyelashes that framed silver eyes flashing with annoyance. Stubble shaded his cheeks, and his lips were red, full, and compressed into a thin line.

The receptionist stopped in front of Jordan and said, “This is your new client, Tanner. Tanner, this is Jordan, your physical therapist. She specializes in sports medicine.”

Tanner’s buddy stuck out one hand to shake Jordan’s. “Nice to meet you. I’m Harrison.”

Tanner didn’t extend his hand. His eyes started at Jordan’s toes and worked their way up. Slowly. He gave no indication of what he saw until he managed to unfold his mouth long enough to speak.

“Get me someone else. I don’t want her.”

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