Faye nodded. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“If the newspapers pick up the story about how that stuff is affecting our clients, it could ruin the clinic’s reputation,” Riley said.
“We’ve got to keep that from happening.”
He unwittingly tapped the tip of his pen against the heel of his hand. “Granted, NoWait is a homeopathic treatment. It’s topical, dab a bit on the skin. What can it harm? And Dr. Richie’s papers only list natural ingredients. I’ve read them. I can’t imagine NoWait being anything but harmless.”
“It has seemed to help our clients lose weight,” Faye said. “But everyone has also been acting rather…peculiar.”
Peculiar wasn’t the half of it, Riley silently surmised. The first day or so on the job, he’d been too busy to notice. But he’d quickly realized that the people in the clinic seemed more frisky than normal. And he didn’t mean frisky as in lighthearted and playful, either. These people were downright lascivious.
“We can’t automatically blame NoWait for this…odd behavior,” he hurried to say. “Not without testing.”
“That’s true,” Faye said. “Exercise does produce high amounts of endorphins to be released in the body. Endorphins that induce a ‘feel good’ effect. That could account for the behavior.”
The higher-ups wanted this situation handled with kid gloves. They wouldn’t be happy hearing that Riley and Faye wanted to yank NoWait from use. The clients loved the product. For more reasons than one.
“Or it could be,” he said, “that everyone is experiencing the high of self-esteem produced by shedding those pounds and firming up, and that’s why they’re feeling amorous. A general, all-around dose of confidence might do it.”
“Maybe,” Faye murmured. But she clearly didn’t believe it.
“Look, you need to be at that meeting,” he told her firmly. “You’ve got the inside scoop on Richard Strong. You have that evidence. You need to make our case about the NoWait. I’ll take the client off your hands.”
“I can’t let you do that. You’re the boss around here now. The director. And besides that—”
“All I have to do is go over the nutrition booklet with her, right? I’ll meet you over at the hospital just as soon as I finish with the woman, okay?” Riley could tell she was about to argue. “Listen, I can’t have the meeting with hospital administration without you. But you can start it without me. I have every confidence in you.”
The tension in her expression eased. “You’ll come right over?”
Riley assured her he would.
She plucked a file from the top of the small stack she carried and handed it to him. “Her name’s Catherine Houston. She’s twenty-six and in good health. She’s in conference room three. She’s due at the gym after her nutrition orientation. Oh, and you should probably know…” Faye paused long enough to pinch her bottom lip between her teeth. “I think she’s wealthy. Definitely upper crust. She purchased the whole line of vitamins, and some other supplements, too. And she bought several of the books we have for sale. She could be good for the clinic. So be nice to her.”
Riley’s mouth twisted. Rich, self-important people he could do without.
“Now, don’t look like that,” Faye chided. “It’s not like she’s arrogant or anything. Just the opposite, in fact. She’s really personable. Very nice. I like her. I just thought we should be nice—”
“We’re nice to everybody.”
A groan rumbled from the back of her throat and she frowned. “Oh, forget I said anything. You’re absolutely right.” She waved her free hand in the air. “I’m just trying to think of anything and everything that will help us overcome the mess that Dr. Richie left us in. This whole thing has got me inside out and I’m not thinking clearly.”
That was easy to believe. Her effusive remorse confirmed she was professional to the nth degree, and Riley knew that commenting on a client’s affluence was atypical for her. Obviously, the situation had her stressed to the max. It had everyone stressed.
“I wish Dr. Richie would show his face,” Faye muttered. “Sure would make my life easier.”
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he assured her. “Go on over to the hospital and I’ll get to the meeting just as soon as I can.”
Alone in his office, he stared at the plain manila file in his hand and stifled a sigh.
Definitely upper crust.
Great. Just what he needed. A pretentious little rich girl.
He knew the type. Women who thought they were above people like him. What made it all the worse was that he knew it was true.
Faye had been adamant that this woman was friendly, but that wouldn’t keep him from feeling second-rate. His mouth cocked cynically and he snatched up his lab coat.
Well, better to get the session over with, he thought, pulling the door of his office closed behind him and making his way down the hall.
The door of the conference room was open, but the shapely blonde had her back to the door so Riley tapped to get her attention. She swung around to greet him, her shoulder-length hair swinging, her lush, shiny lips smiling to reveal two rows of perfect, pearly teeth. Her flawless skin glowed. And he imagined the silky feel of it beneath his fingertips.
Something strange twanged in his gut. The muscles there went tight as a knot. And his throat… It went so dry he felt as if he’d swallowed a mouthful of powder. The greeting he’d formed in his head refused to roll off his tongue.
Immediately, mild confusion knitted the woman’s smooth brow.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
Her voice had an exotic, Mediterranean lilt that triggered a reaction stemming from the most primitive part of his brain. The skin on the back of his neck quivered, and the urge to ask her to repeat herself welled up in him fiercely. Not because he hadn’t heard her question. No, it wasn’t that at all.
She blinked, thick, tawny lashes brushing against milky skin. “Dr. Lassen set me up with Sally Henderson, the nutritionist. Dr. Lassen said she’d try to stop by, too.”
“Sally’s out sick.” Riley moved to the oak table and set the file on it. “And Dr. Lassen was called to a meeting. It was unavoidable. Have a seat and we can go over this information.”
As greetings went, his had probably been too abrupt and not nearly friendly enough, but he seemed to be fighting his way out of a strange fog at the moment.
When she remained by the window on the far side of the room, Riley asked, “You are Catherine Houston?”
“Yes.” She tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, but only advanced a step or two closer to the table.
Her hesitation surprised him. Usually, women of her ilk were confident and assertive. He waited for her to finally reach him, and then he pulled out a chair for himself, hoping she’d follow suit. Opening the file Faye had given him, Riley found the booklet and thrust it toward her.
“Read this over,” he instructed. “And I’ll answer any questions you have.”
She turned the booklet over in her hand, looked at the front and back cover. Then she flipped through the pages. A quick, unexpected grin played at the corners of her mouth, and Riley felt his belly go taut once again.
“I have to read this?” Her cute nose wrinkled.
“There is only one good—knowledge—and