3. Sophie
CHAPTER 3
Sophie
“ T echnically you’ve got less than a day left, Soph,” I muttered under my breath.
As much as I enjoyed absorbing knowledge from the seminars—they were all very informative—I couldn’t wait to leave the lodge. The place was stunning, the views from every angle and open window were to die for, but the lodge itself felt extremely small, painfully so. Especially since everywhere I looked, Alex was there, standing with his hands in his pockets, a perpetual frown on his face, looking all handsome and stoic.
I couldn’t make sense of this feeling. Whenever Alex was close, either in my direct vicinity or staring at me from across the room, I was both hot and cold and up and down.
Which was exactly why I needed to avoid him.
Unfortunately, it was harder than expected. Even this morning at the talk—The Future of Joint Replacement—he had literally kept me a seat. Sweet but unnecessary. Since I was on time, there had been plenty of seats to choose from, and I had spent at least half of the talk convincing myself that Alex’s face hadn’t fallen disappointedly when I’d ignored his almost too subtle wave.
“You can do this. All you need to do is stay away from him—”
Out of nowhere, I collided with a wall of muscle and stumbled back. For a split second, I was suspended in the air, gazing up at a head of tousled dark hair and broad, muscly shoulders.
Life suddenly snapped back like a rubber band. My arms flailed out, but I didn’t fall. A hand had slid around my waist and kept me up, scorching heat pressing through the silky fabric of my blouse.
“You should probably watch where you’re walking,” said an insufferably smug voice that belonged to the one person I didn’t want to see. Alex.
He still had his arm around my waist, his upper body tilted forward, while the edges of his lips lifted. Was that a smile? Was he actually smiling?
I shrugged out of his grip and stepped back as a bothersome heat fogged up my head. “I could say the same thing to you. Bumping into someone is a two-way street.”
He dropped his hand to his side and leaned against the wall, looking both devilishly handsome and way more relaxed than the man who had handed me his business card yesterday— a business card I still hadn’t looked at, as if I was terrified I’d save his number to my cell phone and call him late at night when I was at my most vulnerable.
“So, who’s this person you have to stay away from?” he asked.
“You,” I said, not bothering with a lie. Lies were sticky, tangled messes I preferred to avoid. And since I was terrible at lying—like turn-red-and-laugh-uncontrollably bad at lying—I spoke the truth. “Before I accidentally commit murder. I won’t do well in prison.”
He smirked. “I don’t know about that. Something tells me you can handle yourself pretty well if you need to.”
“Is that a compliment, Alex, because I didn’t know you were capable of saying anything nice?” I moved past him to the stairwell and breathed in deeply when I heard his footsteps follow behind me. There was no escaping him.
“I’m capable of being friendly, you know. I’m not heartless.”
“The man who crashed into me yesterday and blamed me—”
“It wasn’t a crash,” he interrupted, lifting a single finger. “Merely a fender bender. There’s a difference.”
“They’re both inconvenient,” I shot back, pushing open the heavy oak door that led out to the front parking lot and the garden to the left.
I needed air. I needed to clear the fog in my head. I needed to get far away from Alex. But he was following me like a lost puppy—except he was anything but lost. Alex seemed like the type of man who knew exactly where he was, what he was doing, and where he was going.
Stepping onto the stone pathway, I tore my gaze from him, away from the tiny patch of skin on his neck just below his jaw that was slightly darker than the rest—a birthmark—and studied the garden. My thumbs were far from green, but even someone who knew nothing about flowers could appreciate what they had done here. The garden bloomed in a riot of colors— purple lavenders, white daffodils, and orange tulips. And at the far end of the garden was a pedestal bird feeder standing in the middle of a bush of hydrangeas. It felt like I was Mary Lennox walking into The Secret Garden.
“Do you know what’s inconvenient?” asked Alex, sidling up next to me when I stepped under the pergola. The shade was a lovely reprieve from the hot midday sun. The only thing that could make this moment better was silence. At least then I could concentrate on the chirps of the birds, and not Alex standing far too close for my liking. “Being forced to come to seminars like these on weekends,” he added.
Now that was the truth. Weekends were precious and sacred and since there were only fifty-two of them a year, they should be cherished. But for some reason I couldn’t help resisting, pushing back, going against everything he said even when I agreed with him.
“Seminars like these are what make us better at our jobs,” I pointed out, not catching his eye. “We can’t grow if we don’t learn.”
“Touché.”
“Besides,” I added, sitting down on one of the couches, the waterproof fabric crinkling under me—I was surprised no one else was out here during our hour-long lunch break. “You don’t look like someone who takes a weekend off.”
“Why do you say that?”
"I don't know," I shrugged, not sure why Alex gave me the impression of someone who was devoted—possibly bordering on obsessive—to his work. "You've just got that look about you like you're married to your job, like you love the thrill of it all, might even be addicted to it.”
Alex walked to the couch opposite mine and sat down. He didn’t say anything at first, only stared at something over my shoulder, his golden-brown eyes somehow even lighter than before.
The moment of silence continued.
Neither of us spoke. It gave me the unsettling feeling of walking into a scene from a Jane Austen novel, where I was awaiting courtship. The garden. The beautiful lodge. The awkwardness, hoping the other would be the first to say something and then wishing it was something more than just a simple question like, “What do you think of the weather?”
Alex spoke first. “You’re right. I do love my job, maybe a bit too much, but isn’t that the point? If you love something, you won’t spend a day working in your life.”
“Gandhi?”
He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Confucius. You were close though. Just a few centuries apart.”
“I knew it.”
“What about you?” asked Alex, bending his leg so that his right ankle rested on his left knee. “Do you enjoy your job?”
If I mentioned how frightening my boss was, how she blew smoke and whipped her spiked tail around every time she walked into a room, he’d never believe me. Very few did, especially once they’d met her. Vicki was adorable in every way imaginable. She had the face of an angel—giant blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair—and a soft, curvy body with hips that swayed when she walked. A perfect cover, in my opinion.
Despite having a drill sergeant for a boss, I couldn’t get myself to quit––firstly because I needed the money, and secondly because the patients, the doctors, the nurses, and the rehab department were absolutely amazing. “Some days are better than others.”
Alex wrinkled his nose. “Massaging sweaty men with back hair will get anyone down—”
"You know we do a lot more than massage," I interrupted, sick of people and their misconception of what my profession actually entailed. Very little of what I did on a day-to-day basis involved massaging. We helped relieve pain and improve movement and used many different ways to do so, mostly without manual therapy. “I have a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree. You should be calling me Dr. Sophie Manning.”
The stunned expression on Alex’s face was tremendously satisfying. His jaw went slack and he grappled for the right words while his eyes widened, catching the light streaming in through the gaps in the vines. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” he said quickly. “I really didn’t mean to insult you, Sophie. I was just teasing.”
I smiled. It started slowly and crept into a grin. “It’s fine. I’m just pulling your leg.”
He beamed, and I found myself staring at his face, wondering how I could ever forget a smile like that. It wouldn’t be easy, that was for sure.
“Well, just so you know,” he said. “I’m an advocate for physical therapy. You guys are really phenomenal, not just in the work you do, but also in how you treat your patients with compassion and empathy.”
“Don’t try and suck up now, Alex. It’s not a good look on you.”
The edges of his lips tipped up more. But it didn’t stop there. Before I knew it, Alex was chuckling, a deep chuckle that rumbled from his stomach. In all honesty, I hadn’t expected a laugh like that to come from a man as controlled as he was. It was both endearing and fascinating.
“Fine,” said Alex. “I won’t grovel—”
“Next seminar is in five minutes,” interrupted a tall, willowy woman wearing a pencil skirt and a chiffon scarf around her neck. She looked more like a flight attendant than the medical rep I knew her to be. We’d met this morning when we bumped into each other on the way out of the bathroom. Her name was Erica. “Advances in Joint Replacements,” she continued. “The speaker is none other than Professor Orin Ventiko. It’s going to be a fabulous talk.”
Erica couldn’t take her eyes off Alex.
“Thanks, Ric,” said Alex, oozing charm.
Maybe if he’d spoken to me like that instead of crashing his car into my bumper, I too would’ve tripped over my feet to get his attention.
Thankfully, I had seen the light.
Wait . . . Was that a blush creeping onto Erica’s cheeks? It most certainly was. Her cheeks had gone a cherry pink. She touched her fingers to her face, her eyes widening momentarily, and then spun on the spot and hurried off, shouting over her shoulder, “Five minutes!”
“I think she’s got a crush on you,” I pointed out, standing up and smoothing out the creases at the front of my linen pants. This morning I’d taken ages to choose an outfit, sifting through everything I’d packed. Now, a part of me wondered if that had been for Alex. If I cared enough that I wanted to look good for him. Deciding that the reason for my indecision was something completely different, far simpler, I added, “A big fat crush.”
Alex shook his head. “Nah. Not true. She’s just friendly. You should learn from her, Sophie, take a page out of her book.”
“Her book probably smells like roses, and if you can’t see that she basically just fell at your feet, then you’re probably blind.”
“Are you just projecting your feelings on Erica?” Alex grinned. That grin was both crooked and cheeky and for some hellish reason, it made my heart beat just a little faster. An action I detested. “Are you actually the one with a crush on me, Sophie?” added Alex. “And don’t worry if you are, I find it very flattering.”
I gasped. Violent heat started at my feet and moved up to my chest. “Of course not. I would rather eat my own arm off than develop some sort of childish infatuation over a man who didn’t even apologize after he crashed into the back of my car.”
Alex didn’t lose his grin. “If you say so.”
“We need to go,” I added sharply, turning toward the stone pathway, desperate to get away before my cheeks and ears turned red. Not that there was any real reason for this physiological change.
Not a bone in my body was attracted to Alex . . . or maybe just my femur . . . maybe even both of them. “Before we’re late for the talk.”