Page 99 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
“Nah, I got some other business I need to handle. You good though?”
“Yeah. But don’t stop coming to Thursday dinner. I know Ma said she needed space, but I want you to be there. On account of me.”
Malik paused, studying my face. “Son, you’re dangerous and very clever, I’ll give you that. But she’s gotta want me there.”
“She does want you there; she’s just too stubborn to admit it. Think about it, no pressure.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it.”
“Or I’ll just ask every Thursday until I wear you down.”
He laughed and shook his head. “We’ll see about that.”
As soon as I slid into the driver’s seat, I ran my hands around the steering wheel, taking in the new car smell, the way everything felt so crisp and responsive. I had my own whip. And this was just the beginning.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Ihad given Sametra all the space I could allow without going completely insane. She was talking to me, but barely. It was short responses to texts about the baby, updates on school, nothing more. Her ice-out was Arctic cold, and I wasn’t prepared to be frozen out by my own woman. I was about to get on my stalker shit, but I was trying to play it cool. Even though she was cold as ice I was still ensuring I did what needed to be done. Flowers once a week. Lunch surprises, and bundt cakes from her favorite bakery. Something was arriving every day to keep me on her mind.
I’d been using the time wisely touring buildings all week, looking for the perfect location to open Pressure Points. It was time to stop playing.
“This is the third property today,” my realtor, Lynn, said as we pulled up to a sleek glass building in the medical district. “It’s got everything on your list, twelve thousand square feet, state-of-the-art HVAC, plenty of parking, and it’s zoned for medical facilities.”
I stepped out of her car and immediately felt something click. The building sat on a corner lot with excellent visibility from two main streets. Large windows would let in natural light, which was important for patient morale. Sometimes all you need to adjust your mood was some sunshine. I wasn’t feeling that way. The only sunshine I wanted was Sametra.
“Parking looks good. Private access?”
The parking situation was perfect, no one wanted to struggle to find a spot when they were already dealing with mobility issues. But we were on our third location because I had celebrity clients and they wanted privacy, especially after an injury.
“The previous tenant was a sports medicine clinic,” Lynn continued as she unlocked the front door. “A lot of the infrastructure you’d need is already in place. Including private access on the street in the back. Let’s go in.”
The moment I walked inside, I could see it. The reception area was spacious enough for wheelchairs and walkers to navigate easily. The hallway was wide, with rails already installed.
“How many treatment rooms?” I asked, already mentally arranging the space.
“Eight private rooms, plus two larger rooms for group therapy sessions. There’s also office space upstairs for administrative staff.”
I walked through each room, my mind racing with possibilities. I wished Sametra was doing this with me.
“What’s the timeline for occupancy?”
“The owner is motivated to move quickly. You could potentially be in here within sixty days if financing comes through.”
Sixty days. By then, hopefully, Sametra and I would have worked through our issues. Maybe she’d even be showing a little with the pregnancy. I couldn’t wait to bring her so she could see what part of the Holloway legacy looked like.
“There’s also this,” Lynn said, leading me to a back room I hadn’t noticed. “The previous tenant used it for a children’s play area. Of course, you can do what you want, but that’s the one thing these other facilities just aren’t doing. The community needs a kid-friendly location.”
The children’s area didn’t sound bad at all. Where parents could bring their kids during appointments, where my own child could hang out while Daddy worked. The vision was becoming clearer by the minute.
I pulled out my phone and started taking pictures, already planning the layout. I wanted my own practice to be known for the best care but also known as a place that cared about the community. I was ready and excited to employ other therapists, even my baby if she wanted it. This was going to be something that could make a real difference.
“I want it,” I said, turning to Lynn. “What do we need to make this happen?”
“I’ll draw up the paperwork. You’ll need to provide financial statements, business plan, proof of insurance...”
As she ran through the list, already mentally checking off each item. I had been preparing for this moment for a while. Saving money, investing so I could have a good standing on handling business. It was always supposed to be me in my own spot, being my own boss, even before the hospital situation forced my hand. This wasn’t a reaction to the suspension, thiswas the next step in a plan I’d been building since I first started working in rehabilitation.
My phone buzzed with a text from Samaj.
