Page 35 of Remedy: Love In Scrubs
"That you were in love. I know sprung when I see it. We’re cut from the same cloth big brother. It runs in the family. Us Yerba men fall in love fast because we recognize pure hearts and want to protect them forever.”
“That could be good logic if you didn’t fall in love every other month,” I countered.
“Nah. I always see a pure heart. They just weren’t mine to protect, so it never worked out.”
"Goodbye, Marcus," I said firmly, ending the call before he felt the need to go further and bring the subject back around to Skylar and me.
“So, what was that about?” Skylar asked. She stood against the door frame to the bathroom, relaxed. For a second, I wondered if I was the reason for her chill posture. My ego inflated a little bit with thoughts of fucking Skylar so good that I had her walking around without a care in the world.
“Morton Chivy was arrested,” I told Skylar, noticing how relaxed her posture still was. She didn’t seem at all surprised or bothered.
“Skylar?” I inquired with a raised brow.
“Yes?” she responded.
"You don’t look surprised," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "What did you do?"
Skylar shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she walked toward the bed. "I may have had Leslie do some digging into Chivy's past cases after I drafted my Answer and Motion to Dismiss. I had my suspicions, but needed to do a deeper dive, and preferably not on the hospital’s network. So, while you were sleeping, I dug a little deeper."
"And?" Skylar was being purposely vague, and she knew it. She was doing it on purpose for sure.
"And it turns out our friend Morton has been pulling this scam for years. Falsifying medical records, coaching clients to exaggerate symptoms, and targeting hospitals with deep pockets." She sat on the edge of the bed, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "I simply made sure the right evidence found its way to the right people."
I stared at her in amazement. "So, while I was sleeping, you were taking down a fraudulent attorney?"
"Multitasking is a skill," she replied with a wink. "I also spent time with my Coffee Bean. I have been neglecting her.”
“Why are you referring to a coffee bean as if it’s a living creature.”
“Because she is. Come. Let me introduce you to Coffee Bean.”
I had no idea what to expect, but I got up, put my briefs on, and followed Skylar. A whiff of something delicious hit my nostrils, and my body was ready to go follow the smell of food instead, but my mind was stuck on figuring out what the hell was a Coffee Bean.
What I was not expecting was a nicely decorated room that could be a library or an office, but with a big ass contraption on the wall, containing a turtle. I looked at Skylar as she reached in and lifted a turtle out.
“This is Coffee Bean, my Eastern Box Turtle. I’ve had her since I was a preteen. For all intents and purposes, she’s my best friend, besides McKenzie, whom I’m sure you will meet eventually. I’m going to keep that at bay as long as possible though,” she rambled.
“You have a turtle? A pet turtle…” I confirmed, starting at her petting the thing as if it were a cat or some shit.
“I do. Is that a problem?” she replied with a tone that told me I needed to be careful of my next words. Her brows arched in challenged.
“No, not at all," I replied quickly, taking a step closer to examine the turtle. "I just didn't expect it. She's... cute." The turtle stared at me with what I could only describe as judgment in its beady eyes.
"Want to hold her?"
I hesitated for a moment, then extended my hands. "Sure, why not?"
Skylar gently placed the turtle in my palm. Coffee Bean's shell was smooth and patterned with beautiful amber and darkbrown markings. She pulled her head slightly into her shell as I held her, eyeing me suspiciously.
"She doesn't trust easily," Skylar explained, watching us with an amused expression. "Kind of like her mom."
I looked up at her, catching the significance of what she had just shared… which I also already knew. There was something oddly fitting about Skylar having a turtle, protected by a hard shell, but surprisingly vulnerable underneath. These last few days I’d come to recognize those same traits in her.
“A pet turtle,” I murmured to myself as I rubbed the smooth shell, taking it all in.
“So, what happens now with the case?” I asked, bringing the topic back around to Morton Chivy.”
“My guess is that our motion will be heard, granted, and the case will be dismissed with prejudice… meaning that Mr. Simpson will not be able to bring any future claims.”
