Page 9 of The Sicilian Princess
Rose
Infuriating. Nick Greer was positively obtuse. I stormed into the office with Doc Brown and fumed at his highhandedness. Who did he think he was? I didn't need a keeper. I didn't need some man tailing me to make sure I made it to an appointment. Especially not a man like Nick Greer. He was so attractive, it hurt. Doc Brown's office didn't have a receptionist. I wondered if that was because this town was so small or if he just preferred it that way. Nick trailed behind me, but I paid him no mind.
"Rose, how are you feeling today?" Doc Brown asked me. I beamed at him despite Nick's issues. It was always smart to be nice to your health care providers. It was one reason Vito was able to get a huge amount of medication for me without anyone being told.
"I'm doing a lot better than I was." I hopped up onto the table in the examination room and noted that Nick followed us there as well. although he stayed by the door, giving me the illusion of privacy. I rolled my eyes at him and just barely stopped myself from flipping him off again. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, but Nick brought out the worst in me. I hadn't known him long, but everything about him had set me on edge.
"Well, I had time to come up with a game plan. One thing you need to lower, is your stress level. You just moved here and took on a new job, so your anxiety and stress must be at an all-time high. My recommendation is that you don't drive unless you absolutely have to. You know the risks. If you were to have an episode behind the wheel, you could potentially hurt yourself and others." Doc Brown swung his sympathetic eyes my way.
I hung my head because I knew what he was saying was true. It was one of the reasons my father kept me on the compound. He could've hired a driver for me and a bodyguard, but it was much easier for him to keep me locked away inside. That way, no one would be able to take me from him. Not because he loved me, but because I was one of his most prized possessions.
Nick moved farther into the room. I shot him a warning look, but he paid me no mind. His focus was on Doc Brown. "So, she can't drive because it isn't safe. What else isn't she allowed to do?" Nick was staring at me, but his words were for Doc Brown.
"Oh, Nick, when did you get here?" Doc Brown was looking a little scatterbrained.
"Been here the whole time, Doc." He shot Doc Brown a wide grin. It made my panties wet just looking at his white-toothed smile.
"Well, if I could get ahold of your medical recor—"
I cut him off before they could mess with my records and potentially tell my father where I was. "No, absolutely not. They could be watching to see if someone accesses my records."
Nick's eyes snapped to mine when I made the slip. I tried to ignore him.
"They?" Nick rumbled. "I thought you were running from an abusive ex?" My mouth flapped open as I tried to come up with a plausible excuse. Before I could even try, Doc approached Nick and rested a hand on his shoulder.
"That's not what we are here for." Nick and Doc Brown had a staring contest that spoke volumes. Then Nick nodded his head and dropped the whole thing.
I let out a sigh of relief. There was no doubt in my mind that Nick didn't trust me, but as far as I was concerned, he could suck a dick. He was nothing to me, just like I was nothing to him.
"Well, without records, I don't think I could agree to you working." Doc was going over a chart he had on me. I had money but not enough to last.
"We could work something out with my boss," I suggested, grasping at straws. I couldn't live in this town and not work. It was just my luck that I had a seizure the first day I blew in here.
Doc rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That could work. Do you have any triggers, or can you share anything that will help us make sure you don't get severely hurt?" I knew Doc Brown wasn't going to be happy about my next nugget of information. Most doctors wanted to be able to really understand how their patient's body worked. They needed as much data and information as they could get, to better assess that patient. He was about to hate me.
"I don't have any triggers. I also don't have a family history of seizures. I was diagnosed when I was in my teens, but even after all these years, I remain a mystery. They could never tell me what my triggers were or if there was a reason for my disorder." I could hear the bitterness tinting my voice as I said it. Not that it was anyone's fault. It was hard to have such a life changing disorder and not know that reason why.
"Can we do daily checkups around your work then? When I feel more comfortable with your health, we can change to weekly, then monthly, and if you remain seizure free, we will eventually get to yearly."
I agreed right away. It was imperative I had a doctor in my corner while I lived here. If Doc Brown was willing to help me without any information, then I wasn't going to say no. That would be way too risky. I headed out of Doc Brown's office feeling just a little more hopeful than I felt yesterday. I remembered I was going to head to the salon, which was just a few streets over, but my car needed to go back to the motel. I stood looking at my car, trying to figure out a solution. Nick came up beside me with his hands shoved in his pockets.
"I can take your car back, then bring you the keys."
Since it was his suggestion, I went along with it. I slapped my key ring down into his open palm and he hightailed it away from me. One would think I had a contagious disease rather than an illness no one could get from being in my mere presence. I shrugged my shoulders and headed to the salon.
The town's salon was small and nothing like what I was used to. When I did leave the compound, it was always tripping to some fancy spa or high-end boutique. This salon had four chairs and a tiny receptionist area. It was chic, clean, and bright. I felt a level of calm walking through the doors because it wasn't busy.
"Hi!" A perky blonde bounced her way to the front. "What can I do for you?"
"Hi, uhm, I tried to cut and dye my hair myself, and it didn't really turn out the best. I was going for a warm color, but somehow it turned white. Can you fix it?" I was embarrassed about the state of my hair. After having it down my back for so long and never once dying it or changing it, I was feeling self-conscious. The blonde, whose nametag said Bethany, touched my hair and looked at the ends.
"Well, I don't think we need to redye it. For one, a warm blonde wouldn't have been your color. And we don't want to damage it any more than you already have. So, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to give you a nice, deep treatment and then trim you up so your ends are all even. Then I'll give you a nice blow out. Sound good?"
She seemed confident in her abilities. So, I figured instead of arguing about something I knew nothing about, I would go along with her plan. I nodded yes and she whisked me to her washing bowl.
After a while, I began to relax. Bethany mindlessly chattered about the town. She told me about the people, their relationships, and the town's history. She wasn't gossipy, though. It was more like she wanted to inform me on who was who. I appreciated her trying to help me navigate these uncharted waters. I could use all the help I could get. The time passed quickly and before I knew it, she was done. I hadn't once thought about where Nick was with my keys, not until Bethany finished placing the last blown piece of hair correctly where she wanted it.
I panicked before I saw a pair of thighs sitting in a tiny chair in the reception area. Nick was watching me intently, his eyes hot on my face as he perused the final look. He awkwardly moved his large frame out of the tight squeeze that was the chair and stalked toward me.
