One thing led to another and he’d offered to fly her to California for a visit. Her parents cautioned her, so she’d made a firm request: I can’t stay with you, Ron. But he’d already booked her a room in a small hotel by the beach, The Drumcliffe—the people who owned and operated it were Irish Americans, he’d said, to make her feel at home—then he’d proved to be the perfect gentleman the whole visit. That was when she fell in love.
She’d been working as a massage therapist at a day spa in Ennis, getting by on her tips, but not earning enough to move away from home, let alone plan another trip to California. Two months later, she’d discovered she’d fallen pregnant. And though eventually Ron had asked her to marry him, he never seemed quite the same sweet-talking guy again.
* * *
Ten after four on Wednesday afternoon, Keela came strolling out of the therapy room. As she and her patient emerged from the hallway, Daniel was at the copier, collating packets for the athletic department staff at Central Coast City College—otherwise known as the 4Cs—for the upcoming presentation he had planned for tomorrow morning. Keela accompanied Mrs. Joan Haverhill, a long-term client at the Delaney Physical Medicine Clinic. That was, if you counted “long-term” as the one year since he’d opened his business.
“With your joints being fine, and considering normal wear and tear...” Keela said to the patient while nodding to acknowledge Daniel.
“Go ahead, say it—for a woman my age,” the tall, yet hunch-shouldered, gray-haired woman complained. “It’s all I ever hear when I go to the doctor these days. For your age.” She made sure Daniel heard her, too.
A lyrical laugh eased out of Keela’s mouth, and it never failed to grab his attention. She might as well be singing.
“I’d never say that, Mrs. Haverhill. You’re in great shape—”
The sixtyish lady tossed Daniel a deadpan look that seemed to say, Do you believe the crock she’s feeding me? More, please.
He smiled and added a benevolent nod.
“For your age,” Joan repeated, first pasting her gaze on him, then slowly looking back to Keela. “Kind of like the old joke about fortune cookies.”
Keela gave a blank stare. Joan glanced toward Daniel again. “Dr. Delaney, you’ve got to take your employees for Chinese food once in a while.”
The woman turned her attention back to Keela. “Here’s the old trick—all you have to do is add ‘in bed’ to whatever the fortune says.” Keela canted her head, considering Joan’s suggestion. “Um, let me think... For example, ‘Do not mistake temptation for opportunity,’ then you add ‘in bed.’ Get it? It always works, just add ‘in bed.’”
For her effort, Joan received another uncertain stare. “Didn’t you ever do that, Dr. Delaney?”
He pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head. “Can’t say I ever have.”
Resigned, she shrugged. “Maybe that was only my generation. Anyway, that’s the way it seems these days. Every doctor report I get either begins or ends with the phrase for your a—”
“In bed?” Keela teased.
Mrs. Haverhill gave an uncharacteristic chuckle. And that was another thing he liked about his employee. She was quick-witted.
“In that case, I want you to do these four exercises I’ve just shown you, three times a day...” Keela gestured for Joan to finish the sentence.
“...in bed.” The lady winked at Daniel.
“Yes. Well, on a bed, actually. Or better yet, on this mat.” Keela breezed to the cubicles that lined the hallway, which thankfully weren’t depleted like the supply shelves, and grabbed a bright pink yoga mat.
Having clearly won over the usually reticent client with the parting gift—another touch Daniel was proud to offer his patients but was worried he’d have to give up if business didn’t pick up soon—Keela received a smile from Mrs. Haverhill, who took the mat and headed for the door to the waiting room. “Thank you.”
“Have a great week!”
“In bed or for a woman my age?” Joan snickered as she went out.
Keela stood watching the client leave for a moment, then turned toward Daniel with a satisfied smile.
How could he not smile back? “Good work.”
As assistant physical therapists went, Daniel had known from the start she was damn good. It was the rest of the package that made him uncomfortable. The woman part.
Especially after Kathryn, who’d been responsible for his deciding to come back home. He’d asked her to move to Sandpiper Beach with him, so they could heal together. Instead she’d left, essentially gutting him.
“Thanks, boss.” Keela saluted and gathered the batch of paperwork for the next appointment. He’d asked her to see a few extra clients this afternoon so he could concentrate on his pitch for tomorrow. If he could land the 4Cs account, he’d be sitting pretty, with a never-ending flow of young athletes through his office doors. He needed to get it right.
Keela’s phone rang and she stepped inside her office to answer it. With the copier going, Daniel couldn’t hear the conversation, but as he gazed through the large office window, he noticed her brows were lowered. She said something else, then glanced toward the ceiling in a frustrated manner while listening. Just as his copies were done, she hung up, her shoulders slumped and her usual smile inverted. “Thanks for the too-late heads-up,” she raised her voice to the phone on her desk.
No sooner had she stepped into the hallway than a little girl barreled through the doorway from reception, an older woman at her heels. Keela’s face lit up when she saw the child. “Hi, Anna,” she sang, bending and giving her a hug.
Up until now Daniel had just seen pictures of Keela’s daughter on her desk. That, he could handle, but seeing her in person sent a painful jolt straight through his chest. He flinched, then quickly got a grip, though thanks to his recent history, looking at her felt like slowing down at a car accident. Man, she was small, with the kind of little-kid smile that belonged on a billboard. A junior version of her mother’s. He diverted his gaze to the paperwork in his hands.
“Thanks for dropping by on your way to your appointment, Mrs. Jenkins.” Acting upbeat seemed to be second nature to Keela, but this time it didn’t ring true.
Daniel stacked his handouts in a huge pile and started for his office, and shortly afterward the woman left, leaving Anna behind. He tried not to notice.
He’d just plopped the copies on his desk when he felt someone behind him. Keela stood at his office entrance, an anxious expression on her face, her daughter at her side. “I need to ask you a huge favor,” she said. “My ex-husband was supposed to take Anna for the afternoon and evening, but he only just now called and canceled, and Mrs. Jenkins has an appointment to get her hair colored.”
Daniel dreaded what he suspected was coming. His usual, nearly daily struggle with his loss had lightened up lately, thanks to the distraction of responsibilities with the clinic, but the mere sight of the impish little girl managed to decimate in a few seconds what progress he’d made over the past year. Slipping into defense mode, he went practical.
“You can leave her in your office if you need to.”
“Uh, no, she’s only four.”
“I’m almost five.” The child’s tiny hand shot up, all five fingers worth, which clawed at his achy heart. He had to admit the kid was cute, with loads of curls