“No.” I narrow my eyes, like it helps me remember. “But he has this stubble thing going on. It’s sexy.”
“Baby, let that boy rub his stubble on your—”
“Mother!” I stop at the office door and scowl. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You’re disgusting.”
“What? I was gonna say your neck. You dirty girl.”
“You lie. And I’m walking in now, so I have to go.”
“His teeth look good?”
“Mom!” I push the door open and scowl when Calla looks up at the noise I make. “Yes, nice teeth. Nice smile. Though one has this small chip taken out. Now I’m done. I’ll call you tonight.”
“You’re so grumpy when you’re trying to act coy.” She snorts in my ear, only for that to turn into a cackle. “Let’s not pretend you weren’t the girl whose images of doing a kegstand her first year at college did the rounds on social media. You can pretend, honey, and I can pat your hair and pretend with you, but we both know who you are. You’re your mother’s daughter, and Sonia was a witch, remember? The blood is thick in your veins, even when you want to pretend to be serious.”
“I’m hanging up, because you’re frustrating, and possibly unstable. Though of course, without my doctorate, I couldn’t say for sure.”
“Aww, hey, Doogie.”
My head snaps up and to the right to stop on tall, dark, and handsome. “Uh…”
“So I wasn’t wrong.” Luke lounges back on a chair in the corner of Sonia’s waiting room, with his legs splayed wide open, his hat on – despite being inside, and therefore there being no sun to block – and a wicked grin playing over the unshadowed part of his face. “You’re a doctor.” He tilts his head. “A genius doctor.”
“Allyson. Allyson? Allyson. Allyson!”
“Uh… Mom.” I speak into the phone, and wonder if I’m in pain, or just in shock. “I have to go.”
“He’s there, isn’t he? I heard him. I heard his voice! It’s deep,” she purrs. “Sexy and deep.”
“Goodbye, Mother.”
I bring the phone away from my ear and swipe to hang up, then sliding it into my purse, I study Luke for a moment – it must be shock – only to settle on a pithy “What?”
Luke rests his ankle on his opposite knee, and with a playful grin, he bounces the bottom leg so both move. “You talk to your mom a lot?”
“Um…” Definitely shock. “Why?”
He nods toward my bag. “Second time I’ve seen you. Second time you’ve ended a call with your mom. Is she the cool mom, or is she so overbearing that she tempts you to jump off a bridge?”
“Er… both?”
His chest bounces with quiet laughter. “Same here, I guess. My mom is cool as hell, but sometimes…” He shakes his head and lets his sentence remain unfinished. “You here for work, or for brain analysis?”
“Both…?” I repeat, only to finally snap to attention. “I’m sorry, but why are you here?”
“Brain analysis.” Then he smirks. “Court-ordered.”
“Wow.” I take a step back and fix my bag on my arm. “That’s, um… I would lie and say ‘charming,’ but it’s not. Not even a little bit.”
I turn on my heels and make my way past Calla’s desk. She watches me with curiosity burning in her eyes, but she says nothing, does nothing as I storm past and stop at Sonia’s door.
I tap the solid oak for just a moment, but Calla clears the way with a murmured, “You’re good to go in. She’s alone.”
I push the handle down and open the door, and just as quickly, I close it again and press my back to the wood as though to keep intruders out.
Sonia sits at her desk, steaming cup of tea just inches from her elbow as she scans documents on her screen, but at my odd behavior, she stops reading, and instead, spins in her chair to study me. Her brows draw close together and create a severe line between her eyes. “Allyson. Are you okay?”
“Um… I…” I poke a thumb over my shoulder, like that’ll somehow help explain what’s come over me. “Yep.”
“Has the world ended since I arrived at the office, and now the zombies have begun their migration to kill off the stragglers?”
“Er…” Her wild question works to drag me out of my Luke obsession and into something much crazier. “Is that something I should be imminently concerned about? Do you know things you should probably be sharing with your great granddaughter?”
Finally, Sonia smiles and turns back to grab her tea. “No, I think we’re good for a little while longer. Can you share with me what’s freaking you out?”
“Not freaking out.” I’m totally, somewhat, freaking out. “Um… there’s this guy in your waiting room. I met him last week under odd circumstances, but then he was gone, and that was fine,” I add. “I didn’t want to see him again. But I guess I got comfortable thinking I’d made him up. Except, it turns out my imagination isn’t that good, because he’s in—”
“The waiting room.” She purses her lips and gives a gentle bob of her head in acknowledgment. “That’s a little awkward, then, huh? Will you tell me who he is, or shall I check my appointment book?”
“No… Uh… I…” I draw a deep breath, let my bag slide down my arm, and as the condensation runs from the side of my drink and onto my wrist, I set the cup down on a filing cabinet so it immediately begins creating water circles. “Luke somebody. I don’t know his whole name. But he’s, like…” I lift my hand, as though to demonstrate his height. “This tall. Stubble, smartass attitude.” Then I frown. “He called me Doogie.”
“Doogie?”
“Mm.” I try to reason it out while I remain hidden in this office, with my back pressed to the door. “Doogie… Howser? Are there any other Doogies?”
Sonia merely shrugs and takes a sip of her tea.
“Doogie Howser, the… doctor? Yeah, he mentioned something about a doctor. Oh, does he think I’m an actual doctor, like… a surgery doctor?”
“I’m a doctor,” Sonia tosses in just to muddle my brain up a little more. “PhD and a master’s degree means I get to call myself a doctor.”
“I wonder if that’s what he—” Then I stop and shake my head. “Wow.” I shake my head a second time, just enough to dislodge the stupid and search for my college-educated brain. “Who cares what he’s saying or doing or thinking? Right? Who gives a damn?”
Smirking, Sonia takes another sip and mouths, “I think you give a damn.”
“He’s a client of yours. He’s here for his session. That’s all there is to it.”
“So I guess we should call him in.” She looks to the clock, and grins as it clicks over to nine. “It’s his turn.”
“Should I sit out of this one?” My heart races, and I swear, for the first time in my life, my hands turn sweaty. “I should probably sit this one out, right?”