Page 50 of Doctor's Demands
“People, now I know you won’t let them hurt me. Ferocious killer animals? Not so sure about that. Sorry.”
With an eye roll, he moans, “Come on.”
“Hey!” a man shouts, and we both look to see who it is.
“Shit,” Owen mutters. “Someone’s found us.”
“Seems so,” I mumble.
A man comes walking out of the trees. He’s wearing khaki shorts and a yellow T-shirt. His sunglasses come off as he approaches us.
Owen hops up, pulling me with him as he says, “Hey, I know you.”
A smile travels over the other man’s lips. “I know you too.”
Owen
“Did Chance actually say he’d give out information on you, Owen?” Grant Jamison asks me as we sit in his cozy cabin.
We picked the right lake to jump into—one that Grant has a cabin so close to, he could hear us. He came to see who was playing so near to his place and found us, thankfully.
Petra sips on a glass of white wine as she reads a book Grant gave her. He also let her and I wear some robes while our clothes dry in the dryer. He’s quite the godsend.
“No, he didn’t come right out and say he’d tell anyone who I am. I just got the feeling he would. You know, he was menacing.” I sip the Scotch he poured us and wonder if I was being paranoid where Chance was concerned.
“I’ll deal with him,” Grant says, then looks at Petra. “Her file says she’s in college to be a schoolteacher. We don’t want her future to be ruined by anything that concerns our club. Nor yours, for that matter.” He sips his Scotch, then looks at me with a frown. “You should’ve come straight to the club or called. You’ve made several mistakes. Now, we have to clean this mess up.”
Unsure if that can happen, I ask, “Is that even possible?”
“Anything is possible, Owen.” With another glance at Petra, Grant smiles, then looks back at me. “First thing we have to do is call Isabel and tell her to shred everything that has either of your names or pictures on it. I’ll have her delete all of the information there is on both of you. She’ll move the money you have in the escrow account for Petra back into the account it came from. If that’s what you really want.”
“What else can I do?” I ask him, as I have no idea.
He smiles. “Be upfront about things.”
“I thought the whole thing behind belonging to a club like that is to keep things secretive.”
He nods. “It is. No one wants their dirty laundry aired in public. I’m not suggesting you tell anyone a thing about belonging to the club. I am suggesting that you and Petra go to the media with a story.”
“What kind of a story?”
“A love story, Owen. People like two things. They love the drama of finding out about people who’ve done what can be considered bad things. They also like to hear great love stories. So, give them a love story.”
“How?” I look at Petra as she’s all curled up, snug as a bug in a rug, reading contently. She looks as if she doesn’t have a care in the world right now.
“Make something up,” he says, then nods toward Petra. “She’ll go along with anything you want. I’ve seen how she looks at you. The girl is smitten.”
Leaning forward, I whisper, “Me too.”
“I can tell,” he whispers back. He sits back and crosses his long legs. “If we can leave out the part about you winning her in an auction, do you think something can be made out of the truth of your, for lack of a better word, relationship?”
“I did come up with an idea. You see, I thought we could say that we met online when she found me on social media and asked me about her boobs. We hit it off, exchanged numbers, and met in Portland.”
“I like that story. What’s stopped you from telling that one?” He asks as he smiles at me. “It’s great.”
“I don’t know what’s stopped me.”
“It’s hard to tell anything when you’re running. Isn’t it?”
