“Call me.”
“You know you’re really bossy, right?”
“Part of my charm.” Satisfied she would follow his dictates, he turned to leave, swiveled around, and kissed those luscious lips because he couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. “I pick the movie tonight.”
Teddy’s had to be the key.
Sam took the chair beside Doc Harper as the attorney, Anson McElroy, strode to the chair behind the desk. Younger than she expected and all business, he had striking whiskey-colored eyes, chiseled features, and perfectly coifed, dark-brown hair. He carried himself with a commanding air of self-confidence as he sat down and placed his briefcase on the corner. His woodsy cologne reminded her of pine trees and lemons.
Sam watched in morbid fascination as he methodically pulled out a dark blue folder and positioned it squarely in front of him. Next, he tugged a white handkerchief from the inside pocket of his dark suit. He blew on each lens of wire-rimmed glasses and rubbed them with a hankie before stuffing it back in his pocket.
All without saying a word to them.
He adjusted the glasses on his face. “I think I have everything in order.” A strong velvet edged voice. A lawyer’s voice. “Of course, Dr. Fowler, you will want your own attorney to look them over.”
“He’s expecting the documents this week.”
He nodded. “I’d like to go over the particulars in detail, then we can discuss any changes.”
By five-thirty, her brain was fried.
A stickler for details, the attorney insisted on going over every one of them. Twice. But, in the end, all parties were in agreement.
McElroy clicked his pen a couple of times as he read over his notes, then put it in his breast pocket, and stood. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Dr. Fowler. I’m delighted someone such as yourself decided to become part of our little town.”
A subtle change in his voice showed the shift from lawyer mode to interested male. Determined to retain the client-attorney relationship, she stood. “Thank you, Mr. McElroy. I’m looking forward to setting up my practice here.”
“Anson here is a third-generation lawyer,” offered Doc. “His father and grandfather both practiced in the same office he uses.”
“I’m sure they’re very proud of you carrying on the family tradition.”
“They were. Both gone now,” said Anson. “What about you? Are you carrying on the tradition?”
“Afraid not. I’m from a family of cops.”
“Really?” He returned the document to the briefcase and snapped it shut. “What made you decide to become a doctor?” His cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry. That was a bit too personal.”
“It’s okay. I’ve always wanted to be a doctor.” Her voice grew bubbly as memories flashed through her mind. “I can remember as a child lining up all my dolls and stuffed animals and doing check-ups and operations on them. I even practiced on my brothers.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
His heavy cologne now permeated the stuffy room, and she needed fresh air soon. She slipped her purse strap over her shoulder. “Two. Both older. Both cops.”
He picked up the briefcase and came around the desk. “And they live in Dallas?”
“Yes.” She turned to Doc Harper who barely managed to stifle a yawn. “You mentioned me coming by to spend some time getting to know the patients. Do you think I could do so this week? Maybe Wednesday or Thursday? I could come for some or all of the day.”
“How about Thursday and Friday? I only work till noon on Wednesdays.”
“Works for me.” She turned to the attorney and extended her hand. “Thank you very much for all your hard work on this, Mr. McElroy, and for the expediency of it as well.”
“My pleasure. And please, call me Anson.”
His grip was firm, his fingers cool, making the old adage cold hands, warm heart pop into her head. He held on a fraction longer than necessary, and his steady gaze was discomforting.
She pulled her hand away and resisted the urge to wipe the palm on her leg. “Thank you.” The omission of his name wasn’t an accident.
“I’ll get the changes made tomorrow and have copies sent to both of you. I’ll also overnight copies to your attorney.” He reached for her hand again, dark eyes intent as they connected with hers. “Let me know if I can do anything…anything at all for you.”
Female spidey-sense kicked into overdrive and her initial opinion morphed from straight-forward attorney to slimy bastard. Pretty to look at, but darkness lurked inside.
He turned his attention to Harper. “Let me know if you need something else, Doc.”
“I will, son, I will.” The old man grunted as he pushed himself from the chair and extended his hand. “I appreciate everything you do for me.”
The look he gave Sam could best be described as a leer before he turned and strode out the door in long purposeful strides.
“Give me a few minutes to lock up, Sam, and I’ll walk you out.”
“Thanks, Dr. Harper. I need to call Coop, and let him know we’re done.”
“Ever‘one calls me Doc. You do the same.”
Coop answered on the first ring. “Why didn’t you take Jack inside with you?”
