Page 4 of Saving Love
“Seriously,” she muttered under her breath. She dialed again, her finger pressing the buttons harder this time as if the force of her touch would somehow hurry the receptionist along. But after three more rings, it was the same—silence followed by the robotic voice of voicemail.
Annoyance scratched at her skin. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t some regular patient; she was Dr. Emily Sharp, an orthopedic surgeon, and a graduate from John Hopkins. She’d survived a car wreck and multiple lacerations to her spleen. She didn’t have time for this back-and-forth.
“Just great,” she hissed, her voice low. She needed an appointment time before the voice in the back of her head convinced her not to seek help.
After the third try, she stood up from her desk and grabbed her white coat. If she couldn’t get them on the phone, she’d just have to go down to the rehab center.
By the time she stormed into the large space, with the treatment area and gym to her left and the reception desk to her right, her patience was long gone. The bright, sterile environment with posters that said,Just Hang In ThereorRehab Is A Journey, Not A Destination, did nothing to soothe her irritation. In fact, it might even have aggravated it.
Emily walked straight to the reception desk, only to find no one there either. She took a sharp breath, considered reporting whoever was in charge, and was already in the hallway heading back to the orthopedic wing when she collided with someone rounding the corner.
“Oof––sorry, didn’t see you there,” Emily muttered, glancing up, ready to apologize again for not looking where she was going.
But then she froze.
The woman she’d collided with was tall with salt-and-pepper hair cut short. She wore blue scrubs, and sneakers and had a name tag pinned neatly to her chest. Emily wasn’t paying attention to the name, her focus was instead caught by the soft freckles scattered over the woman’s nose—like stars in a night sky.
“No worries,” the woman said, her smile as easy as a summer breeze. “The corners are tight; you have no idea how many times I’ve bumped into someone.”
Emily blinked, her irritation from before was slowly fading into nothing. Here was a woman who’d nearly been knocked off her feet and still managed to remain composed. Emily, on the other hand, wouldn’t have acted so graciously if she’d been on the receiving end of the collision.
“Well, as long as no one’s injured.” She glimpsed down at the name tag, which readDr. Bette Bridge, PT, DPTincrisp lettering above the hospital’s logo, and frowned. “You’re a physical therapist?”
“I am,” the woman replied, her tone nothing but professional.
That irritation swept right back into Emily’s chest as she remembered why she was standing there instead of her office reviewing new patient files. “Well, I’ve been trying to make an appointment for the last fifteen minutes and no one’s answering the damn phone.” Her words came out sharper than she intended. She wasn’t sure if it was because of how annoyed she was at the effort or because she’d just come face-to-face with a woman who looked like the human embodiment of aging gracefully, all sharp eyes, smooth skin and soft freckles. It was distracting enough to leave Emily a little flustered.
“You’d think getting a doctor in for rehab would be easier than this,” Emily went on, feeling heat rising to her cheeks. “I’ve got patients to see, and this is taking unnecessary time.”
The woman’s honey-brown eyes hardened, making them seem that much darker. “I understand your frustration,” she said evenly, though there was a subtle edge to her voice, a sort of unflappable authority that made it crystal clear she wasn’t one to be pushed around. “But I assure you, Doctor Sharp, the world doesn’t stop spinning just because you’re on a schedule.”
Emily’s mouth parted at the unexpected rebuttal. But even more so, the fact that the woman knew her name. “How do you know who I am?”
The woman crossed her arms over her chest and Emily’s gaze caught the veins tracing up her forearms. She was strong, no doubt. But wasn’t that part of her job? They spent hours a day lifting patients, guiding them through exercises, and providing support.
But then why was Emily still so surprised?
“You’re hard not to know,” Bette replied smoothly. “A rising star in the orthopedic world, and last I checked, you almost lost your life in a car accident.” Her eyes flicked to Emily’s chest. “Oh, and I also read your name on your lab coat.” She pointed to the embroidered name right above the pocket, a small detail Emily hadn’t even considered.
Her cheeks burned, the heat creeping up to her ears. Just what she needed right now. A smart-mouthed physical therapist putting her in her place. Emily had always been the one in control, calling the shots in every situation, but now… Well, this Bette Bridge held all the control.
“Oh yes, of course,” Emily muttered. “Well, can you help me with an appointment?”
Bette held her gaze for a second too long before she said, “Come with me.”
Emily didn’t even get a chance to protest, claiming that she had better places to be when the woman walked off, back toward the rehab center.
All Emily could do was follow.
When they arrived at the receptionist’s desk, Bette leaned over it, scanning the schedule book. “We can get you in first thing tomorrow morning,” she said, glancing back at Emily.
Tomorrow was better than today. Emily needed at least a full day to get her head on straight. She had enough going on without adding whatever strange, inexplicable pull Bette seemed to have on her.
“First thing tomorrow,” Emily repeated, her voice feeling awfully thick as if the words didn’t want to come out. Was it because she didn’t want to seem weak, to be injured, when usually she was the one who did the fixing? Or was it because of Bette, who somehow had the ability to tie Emily’s stomach into a knot?
“Yep,” Bette confirmed, grabbing a pen. “Eight a.m. Don’t be late, Doctor Sharp.”
Emily’s heart gave a little leap at the sound of her name in Bette’s voice. She felt a strange flutter in her chest that had nothing to do with her shoulder. “I won’t be,” she replied, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt.
