Page 13 of The Sculptor

Too bad I’m not so easily manipulated. Ramsey might have business with the congressman, but I don’t. I couldn’t give two shits about my popularity. I’m only in it for the money—but not at someone else’s expense. Vance said the practice had reserves—that we don’t need the money.

I hope he’s right.

“I’ll have my secretary call you and set a surgery date.” I look at my watch like the surgery schedule is written there. “Right now, I’m booked out six months.”

I flash a smile before allowing my gaze to drift behind him to a pissed-off Ramsey.

“What do you mean six months?” Is that irritation I detect in the congressman’s tone? Aww. He must have thought I was an ass-kissing tool who worked for him.

“I’m a busy man, Congressman. I’m sure you can understand that.”

I don’t give a fuck if he doesn’t. I promised Ramsey I would lie, not get down on my knees and make it easy for either of them.

“What about our wedding?” I jerk my eyes away from Langston and level a glare at Ramsey, who has decided to join the conversation and put her hand in Langston’s. “Our wedding is in eight weeks. It’s the week of Christmas! Can’t you do something before then?” She smiles at Langston, and it takes all I have not to snatch her out of his arms. “I want to be perfect for him.”

Oh, she’ll be perfect, all right—a perfect liar.

I offer her and Langston a tense smile. “I could try a few things,” I lie, narrowing my gaze at the woman who haunts my dreams, “but no promises.”

Ramsey straightens, the loving pretense disappearing instantly.

“Sounds good,” Langston says. “We appreciate anything you can do.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Inhaling, I tip my chin in agreement. Could this day be any shittier? “Absolutely. Now, shall I do your touch-up before I leave? You’re only scheduled for an hour.”

The novelty of having new tits and a new wife is quickly replaced by greed. “Oh, yes. Absolutely. Excuse us, darling.”

Ramsey smiles and steps away. “I’ll be waiting for you upstairs.”

All the blood seems to drain from my body, and nothing but pure-white rage replaces it as I catch Ramsey by the wrist. “And I’ll be in touch, Ms. Ford.”

Duke

What does your fiancé say about your little heart drawing?

It’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen Ramsey at the congressman’s mansion, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t spoken to her. I promised I’d be in touch, and I strive to maintain excellent communication with my patients—even the ones who’d rather I didn’t. The funny thing is, though, Ramsey seems to enjoy our virtual doctor-patient chats just as much as I do.

Ray: Not that it’s any of your business, but Langston doesn’t care about my art. He sees a lot of drawings on my body… They don’t mean anything.

I smile at my phone.Tsk, tsk, Ray. You’re acting like I’m someone who doesn’t know you.

My fingers tap out my response quickly.You’re lying… Everything you draw on your body means something. You would never waste such precious canvas with irrelevant art.

I know I’ve hit a nerve when she responds almost instantly.I wonder how your girlfriend feels about you texting me, huh? I know you have one—you always do.

This is the Ray I love—the one I yearn to bend over my bed and own and fuck the sass from. That fiery passion of hers has always been gas to my flame.Is that so? And how would you know I always have a girlfriend? Have you been keeping tabs on me, Ray?

She responds within seconds.Please. The local paper loves the Potter brothers. You can’t frown without them reporting it the next day.

The more she responds, the more I learn that my Sunny Ray is a little stalker.But you live in Nevada. Why would you still read the Bloomfield Times?

Because she’s a little liar, that’s why.

Are you serious? My family still lives there, Duke. Not everything I do is about you.

I tap out a sentence and then delete it. It’s a response that would likely scare her into blocking me. Instead, I go with: If we’re only telling half-truths, you should know I don’t have a girlfriend during the fall and winter seasons.

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