Page 77 of The Devil You Know
I glance at my watch, wondering if my next patient has arrived yet, and knowing Barbara will never make me aware of it. “Huh?”
Lisa tugs at one of her earrings. It’s a hoop so large that it nearly touches her shoulder. “You know who I mean. Dr. Sexy McSexerton.”
“You mean Ryan?” I avoid her gaze. “I don’t know. He’s busy.”
“It seemed like he was always sniffing around you for a while,” Lisa says. “Looking for you, pumping me for information…”
I freeze. “Pumping you for information?”
“Oh!” Lisa’s cherry red lips curl into a smile. “I didn’t tell you about that? I ran into him in the lobby when he first started. I was trying to make my usual brilliant conversation, but all he wanted to talk about was you. Jane, Jane, Jane…”
I get this sinking feeling in my chest. “He did?”
“And the way you’re always complaining about Ben…”
“I don’t complain about Ben all the time!” I cry. Oh God, do I?
“Well, not lately,” Lisa admits. “But you used to. How he wouldn’t change the toilet paper roll. Or how he’s always on the toilet when you want to take a shower. A lot of toilet-related complaints.”
I laugh. “Well, I guess every couple has stupid problems like that.”
“I like Ben,” Lisa says. “He isn’t a phony. And every time I see you guys together, it’s obvious he’s super crazy about you. Unlike my idiot husband, who’d probably trade me in for a twenty-year-old blonde in a heartbeat.”
“Yeah, right.” Mike worships the ground Lisa walks on.
“You’re lucky you didn’t end up with Dr. McCutie,” she says. “He’s probably an arrogant asshole.”
There are reasons I’m lucky I didn’t end up with Ryan. But none of them are what Lisa thinks.
Chapter 29
I walk into the kitchen carrying two bags of groceries. I kick off my soggy shoes at the door, but the second I walk onto the tiled floor, my sock fills with water and I nearly slip and fall on my butt. I drop the bags on the floor and look down. The kitchen floor has two small puddles of water on it, one of which nearly broke my neck.
“Hey, you’re home.” Ben wanders into the kitchen in his bare feet. He leans in to kiss me on the neck. “Did you get more of that peanut butter with honey at the grocery store?”
“Ben.” I take a cleansing breath, trying to remember what our therapist said about not being confrontational or snarky. “Why are there two puddles of water on the floor?”
His eyes drop and he notices the puddles. “Oh,” he says. “I spilled some water earlier.”
“So… why didn’t you clean it up?”
“Well…” He shrugs. “It’swater. So I figured, you know, it’s self-cleaning…”
“Ben, it soaked my socks,” I say. “And I nearly slipped. You can’t just leave a puddle of water on the kitchen floor.”You idiot.
A month ago, this might have started a huge fight. But today, it doesn’t. He just nods sheepishly. “I’m on it.” He goes to the counter and grabs some paper towels. “And I’m going to get you some new socks too from upstairs. Don’t even move. I’ll take care of everything.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “You don’t know where I keep my socks.”
“I think I can find them,” he says. “Give me a little credit here. I do have a Master’s degree.”
“Not in finding socks.”
“No,” he says, “but that was my major in college. I wassumma cum laudein socks. My minor was shoelaces.”
I laugh and step back to allow Ben to clean up the water in the kitchen while I put away the groceries. He doesn’t have to bother with the socks though. Maybe I’ll put on my fuzzy slippers.
“Hey,” he says, as he straightens up with a handful of wet paper towels. “Guess what? I wrote a new app that I think is going to be a huge success.”
