Chapter 2
Anabelle splashed with her two daughters in the huge bathtub she’d put in her house. The twins were identical but one sported curly hair and one didn’t. Emily’s blond curls were plastered against her head, making her blue eyes stand out.
Her sister Lucy sat happily plopping her hands in the water repeatedly. The scents of baby soap and baby shampoo were an elixir to her.
When Anabelle finally got them out and into their room, they were sleepy. She’d barely had time to throw on a robe, dry them off and slide them into summer pajamas, pink for Emily, purple for Lucy.
No bedtime stories tonight. They each fell asleep as soon as they hit the mattress in their crib.
She’d bought two but they screamed when they were separated so she stored one away.
Anabelle lay down on the single bed across the room to summon her energy.
Work had been busy today and the twins were active since she brought them home.
She closed her eyes.
And saw Oliver Ricardi. God, he was cute. He was a big man, with steel blond hair cut short and styled kind of spikey on top. It looked coarse. His arms looked like they could carry her easily.
“Arrgh.” She bolted up from the bed and slid off.
She took one last look at the girls, turned off the lights and went to her bedroom.
Exhausted from a surgery and four appointments today, from being with two energetic toddlers until seven then the tiring task of giving them a bath.
She put on silky blue pajamas, propped her pillows up and slid onto the bed.
She picked up her tablet and clicked into tomorrow’s schedule.
Hmm. Her day off. How had she forgotten?
Again, Oliver Ricardi came to her mind. What would he do on his day off? Did he take days off? Boy, she wanted to see him. Her nanny, Irene, was still coming tomorrow, so she could go to his office. Take him up on his offer for a date.
Nah. It was impossible. Professionally, she was still treating his mother. Her cell phone on the nightstand rang.
“Hello.”
“Anabelle, it’s Curt Langston.” The chief of cardiology.
She hoped he didn’t want her to come in tomorrow. “What can I do for you, Curt?”
“We finally got approval for the new doctor to come on board. I’m lightening the load for the rest of us. You have to transfer two patients to him. Do you know who you’d want to let go?”
Well, if this wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what would be.
She finished the call with Curt then picked up her phone again and punched in numbers.
“Hi, Irene. It’s Anabelle. Would you be able to change your hours tomorrow to 3-10?
Something’s come up that I have to do.” She’d planned to work all morning, then let Irene go for the afternoon.
But instead, maybe she could go to Oliver’s place of business like he’d come to hers.
“Yeah, that’s even better for me,” Irene told her. “See you then.”
On her tablet, Anabelle clicked into files and pulled up his mother to see where he worked, as he was the next-of-kin contact for her. The Harmony Health Collective. She transferred over to her search engine.
Here it was. The practitioners were listed. Massage Therapy with Oliver Ricardi 9-5 daily. Tuesday until 8. Please call for an appointment.
She set her tablet aside. Damn it. She shouldn’t do this. She took some deep breaths and tried to calm herself down. When she did, she sat in solitude for ten minutes, then thought, damn it, I’m lonely.
Blowing out a heavy breath, she decided to wait until tomorrow to see if she still wanted to see him.
* * *
The next morning, Oliver walked into his office where he’d left his first patient filling out forms. Ken Olsen looked up. “I’m almost done.”
Oliver sat at his desk and perused the interior. Juliet Sullivan had helped him pick out soothing colors for the whole place. A mixture of taupe and sage green covered the walls and was matched by darker shades in the furniture.
When Ken finished, Oliver took the papers and read his information. “I see you work construction.”
“I do,” he said. “But I’m on leave. I can barely move, my back hurts so much.”
“I hope I can offer you some relief today. On the sheet I got from your company, I see you have seven sessions covered by insurance.”
“Yeah. You think you can help me by the end?”
“I do. And if we need more, we’ll apply for it.”
“I’m not workin’ now.”
“Are you getting paid?”
“Yeah. I have seven weeks of paid leave.”
“That’s great. Let me tell you what I do.”
The guy nodded.
“I think today we’ll start with some gentle massage characterized by long, slow strokes to focus on muscle relaxation and reduce tension. Next time, I’ll use deeper pressure to release chronic muscle tightness, knots and trigger points in deeper layers of muscles.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Oliver stood and led him to the treatment room. “Take off your clothes but leave on your underwear. You can put this gown on then lay down flat on the table. There’s a pocket for your head.”
Oliver walked out and read the sheets more carefully. The guy was thirty-five with a family of four to support. He didn’t write down any outside activities. Poor man. He was probably too busy making a living to do anything else.
When he went back inside, he found the patient lying flat on the table. “Doing okay, Mr. Olsen?”
“Yeah and call me Ken.”
“I’m Oliver.”
“Is your phone turned off, Ken?”
“Yes. I did it as soon as I got here.”
“Great. We’ll both stay quiet during this hour, though if anything I do makes you uncomfortable, physically or otherwise, let me know. Of course, I’ll be touching you. Try to relax and enjoy the relief.”
“All right.”
“The first thing we’ll do is stretch your muscles.”
He picked up the man’s leg, bent it at his knee then gently pushed forward. “Does that hurt?”
“No, it feels good.”
He held the pose for fifteen seconds, let his leg go back to the table, then repeated the process, five times.
He did the same on the other leg. He did five more stretches then moved his hands to the site of the pain.
“I’m going to press gently at first around the area you indicated as the problem.
” His fingers found what he thought would be the center of the pain.
“Is this the most painful part?...how about here?” He moved his hands to find the perimeter of the pain.
“Now I’m going to massage this area. I’ll be gentle at first then deepen the pressure but we’ll work up to the full compression over the next seven sessions.
Again, let me know if it hurts. All this should make you feel better. ”
Gently, Oliver pushed his hands into the man’s flesh and began the real massage.
Fifty minutes later, he stretched the guy’s muscles again, then stepped away. “I’m done, Ken. How do you feel?”
“Better. Relaxed. Less pain.”
“Now, sit up, slowly.”
Once Ken was upright, Oliver said, “You may get sore as the night goes on. But that’s to be expected.”
“Will I feel less pain?”
“I’m not sure. You might. But if you don’t remember, this is the first of seven sessions and a very gentle one. I’ll come back when you’re dressed and schedule your next session right in here.”
The man nodded.
Oliver walked outside the treatment room with his tablet, which held his appointment book. After a few minutes, he gently knocked on the door. “All set, Ken?”
“Yeah. Come on in.”
They set up the next two appointments, then Oliver showed him to the waiting area.
Where he found Anabelle Baxter.
His eyes rounded with surprise, then he walked Ken to the front door and opened it for him. When the door closed behind him, he faced his visitor. “Now doesn’t this make my day.”
* * *
Anabelle had told herself not to be nervous because Oliver Ricardi had already asked her out. She’d dressed carefully in a peach and yellow sundress and her favorite strappy sandals. She lifted her chin. “Hello, Oliver.”
His grin was wide. “Hello, pretty lady.”
That made her smile. “You came to my place of work so I thought it would be all right with you if I came here.”
“It is. And I’m done for the day.”
“I hoped you would be.” She could feel herself blush. “I googled you and saw the hours you work.”
He slid his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall. The navy slacks and yellow polo shirt fit him well. “Does this mean you’ll go out with me?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Yes, it does. Once. Then we’ll see.”
“I’ll take it.” He glanced at the clock. “How much time do we have?”
“My nanny is staying until ten.”
“Long enough.” He held out his hand. Took hers. By the door, he grabbed his sports-coat off a hook, then said, “Let’s go in my car. We’ll come back for yours.”
“I guess that would be okay.”
Once she stepped closer to him, she got a whiff of his scent. It was woodsy. Masculine. Her heart kickstarted again like it had that day at the hospital cafeteria.
His car was a sporty, dark green Prius. He opened her side and she slid in. The beige leather was smooth and cushiony. He circled the hood and got inside. He didn’t start the engine right away. Instead, he just stared at her.
After a while she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Not a thing. I’m taking in the dress and how that thick hair falling past your shoulders is gorgeous.”
“Thank you. Again.”
“What do you feel like eating?”
“I’m not vegetarian but I don’t usually have red meat. No other caveats.”
“There’s this Italian place my best friend frequents. Would you like to go there?”
“I love Italian.”
He started the car and drove out of the parking lot. “First off, can you tell me why you changed your mind?”
I’m lonely. But she couldn’t admit that. “I kept thinking about your offer and decided last night to come see you. No particular reason other than that.”
“Hmm.” His expression told her he was happy about all this. Thankfully.
His hand held the steering wheel lightly. A white watch covered his wrist. “So how are these twins you told me about?”