“If you can convince him, you can have him,” I mutter, then look at the clock and see time has caught up with me, like it normally does when I’m talking to Chris. “Come by the salon tomorrow when you get done dropping Dale at the airport. I need to finish getting ready to leave here in the next twenty.”
“Shit, you’re meeting your new doctor today,” he says quietly, and I pull in a breath through my nose.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, it’s okay. You should spend some time with Dale before he goes home.”
“He’ll understand if I leave him for a few hours to go with you.”
God, I love my best friend. “Seriously, it’s okay, and make sure you put some ice on your eye.”
“Will do. Call me when you get done with your appointment.”
“I will.” I hang up and drop my cell to the bed, telling myself that I don’t care if Sage knows who Chris really is to me, but royally freaking the hell out that he does.
Chapter 2
Kim
TAKING A BITE from the peach in my hand, I lean against the front counter at the salon and flip through the latest issue of Cosmo, not really seeing the words on the pages. My mind is on the appointment I went to yesterday. I didn’t know what to expect when I met with Dr. Jayne, but I didn’t expect to leave her office feeling as hopeful as I did.
During my appointment, she told me about numerous patients of hers who have had amazing results using the tools she’s given them. She also told me that as long as I follow her diet plan and start taking the new meds she prescribed, I should see the same outcome. She explained that I won’t be better but I should feel better, which to me is the most important thing right now. There is nothing worse than feeling like you have the flu everyday and knowing there is no store-bought remedy or any amount of rest to fix it.
Hearing the bell on the door ding, I come out of my head and watch Ellie as she walks in with a smile on her face.
“Hey, honey,” she says, holding the door open for Hope, who spots me and runs over, her pigtails bouncing and a huge smile on her adorable face.
“Kimmyyy!” she shouts, holding a black backpack out toward me. “Look what Uncle Sage got me. Isn’t it so cool?” she asks, and I look at the bag and notice the words “Detective Kit” scrolled across the front in large yellow writing.
“Wow, that is cool,” I agree, getting down on my haunches in front of her and dropping my voice. “Who are you going to spy on?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s top secret.” She sighs like she’s disappointed that she can’t tell me, and I fight back a smile.
“Well, if you need any help, Detective, let me know.” I touch the top of her head then stand to my full height and raise a brow at Ellie. “I thought you were off today?”
“I was, but Selma called and asked if I could come in and do her and Sejla’s hair for some big party they have to attend tonight,” she explains before she drops her eyes to Hope who is now sitting at my feet, going through all the gadgets and gizmos in her bag.
“Don’t pull that all out, honey. Daddy will be here in just a little while to pick you up, and you don’t want to lose anything.”
“Okay,” Hope agrees, shoving everything she has taken out back in and looking up at me. “Can you paint my nails?”
“Of course I can. Go pick out your color,” I tell her, and her eyes get big with excitement right before she stands and skips off to the back of the shop, with her new backpack bouncing behind her on her back.
“You spoil her,” Ellie mumbles, and I shrug, making her roll her eyes. “Is Frankie in?”
“He’s in his office doing a stock order.”
“Cool, I’m going to get my stuff set up. You okay out here?”
“You know I am.” I give her smile then turn when the bell on the door dings again. The smile on my face slides away as Sage steps inside, looking as beautiful as ever wearing a pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved dark gray cotton shirt that is molded perfectly to his frame. “Can I help you?”
“We need to talk,” he says, taking a step toward the counter I’m still standing behind. Feeling my muscles get tight when he starts to get close, I see his eyes change, and he stops moving as his jaw clenches.
“I know you know I lied and—”
“I don’t give a shit about that,” he cuts me off, taking another step toward me. “I deserved that after the things I said.” He didn’t deserve for me to lie to him. I should have just had a backbone and been honest. “We need to talk,” he repeats.