“He’s in every magazine you pick up.”
“I’ve seen you in the newspapers, and in magazines, too.”
“I’ve had a small piece in Pacific Northwest magazine. He was on the cover of Time, Carrie. Everywhere you look it’s ‘Dr. Terry, this,’ or ‘Dr. Terry, that.’ My success is very much regional. Dr. Eats-to-be-Merry has gone national. Millions tune into his show every day.”
“But I saw you on TV,” she said, hearing the slight accusation in her tone. “That’s how I found you.”
“Those were advertisements. I had to come up with funding for those. To promote my seminars. A huge difference.” He slugged back a drink from his can. “When people at the clinic started calling me Dr. Richie, I let them even though I couldn’t stand the sound of it. I’d worked so hard to come up with a good, sturdy name. Dr. Strong is what I wanted to be called, and here people were referring to me as Richie. It makes me feel four years old. But I knew they were comparing me to Browell, so I let it slide. Now I’m sorry I ever did.”
“I think,” Carrie observed quietly, “that you’re the one who’s being too hard on himself. You’ve done some good work at the clinic. You’ve helped people. And that was your goal from the very beginning. I remember.”
Confidence allowed her to speak the final two words firmly.
“I did have good intentions. I really did, Carrie.” He shrugged. “I still do. But I’ve made an awful lot of mistakes. In my professional life and in my personal life. I’ve had a lot of affairs, Carrie. And I…haven’t treated the women very well. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’ve broken more than a few hearts.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond. The nurturer in her spoke up when she murmured, “Well, you can’t fix a problem until you know one exists. You’ve recognized something in you that needs to be put right. You can do it, Richard. I know you can. You’re a smart man.”
Now it was his turn to snicker derisively. “Oh, yeah, I’m smart, all right. Smart enough to invent an oil meant to help people lose weight, but not quite clever—or patient—enough to perform some simple tests before handing it out to dozens of people.” His dark gaze clouded with trouble.
Carrie told him, “They’ve stopped using it. They’ve collected as much as they could.”
“I guess that’s for the best.”
“Dr. Jacobs wants you to come back to the clinic, Richard.”
“I’m sure he does. Handing over my head on a silver platter will look great on his résumé.”
“No,” she told him, “you don’t understand. The hospital is planning tests for NoWait. They want you to oversee the lab work.”
“I don’t understand. My oil was making everyone act very peculiarly.”
Peculiar was a mild word to describe how that oil had people behaving. “They’re testing the oil for exactly that reason. If it turns out that NoWait can help people who suffer from sexual…difficulties, then Dr. Jacobs seems to think it could put Portland General on the map. What he told me was that there could be lots of money to be made.” She slid her fingers down the damp exterior of her soda can. “And if NoWait has the potential to make Portland General famous…”
His eyebrows arched. “It can make me famous. It’s my oil. I invented it.”
“Yes, but Rich, please go slow. Let them do all the testing they want. You don’t want any more mistakes.”
He nodded. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m finished with mistakes. I’m going to dot every i and cross every t from here on out. I’ll go see Dr. Jacobs first thing in the morning.”
The gratitude in Richard’s dark gaze made her heart melt right down her ribcage.
“Thanks, Carrie, for hunting me down.”
She nodded, then she was attacked with a sudden case of nerves. Now was the time. She needed to tell him.
“I—I, uh,” she stammered, “I had another reason for finding you, Richard.”
“Another reason?”
“Yes, I really wanted to apologize for my behavior at the clinic,” she said, hedging for time. “And I wanted to pass on the message from Dr. Jacobs. But there’s something else, too. Something you should have been told long ago.”
He just sat there waiting.
“There was another reason I looked for you after we separated,” she said.
“But you said you looked for me because you had a change of heart.”
The tone of his voice told her he was hoping she wasn’t refuting that fact.
“And I did,” she assured him. “Have a change of heart about our breakup, I mean. But there was another reason, as well.”
Her heart hammered a mile a minute and blood whooshed through her ears. Oh, Lord, was she going to be able to do this without passing out?
“Carrie? Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Give me a second.”
Jason crept into her thoughts. God, how she loved her son. He was the image of Richard. That boy was what had kept her going after her marriage had failed. Jason had been the reason she’d taken that second chance at love…with gratifying results. She and Ralph had enjoyed many happy years together.
However, she’d always wondered what kind of father Richard would have been. And she’d dreamed of this moment forever, it seemed.
Now it was here.
“Richard,” she said with as much calmness as she could muster, “you’re a father. We have a son.”
A soft thump in the dark woke Catherine from a deep sleep. She felt trapped by the tangle of sheets, momentarily confused by her nakedness.
In an instant, though, it all came flooding back. Riley, and his kisses, and the extraordinary love they’d made right here on this very bed.
She stretched out languidly, every part of her, mind, body and soul, feeling heavy and fluid with complete satiation.
Like a fairy-tale knight in shining armor who had stepped into real life, Riley had swooped her into his arms in true romantic fashion and had carried her to the bed. The memory was heartrendingly sweet, one that Catherine could hold tight to for all time.
The two of them had become so caught up in the frenzy of passion that neither of them had given dinner a second thought. She’d have to toss out the Chinese take-out she’d left sitting on the counter.
Another soft sound in the dark made her lift her head. “Riley?” she said softly.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What are you doing?” She glanced at the clock. “It’s four-thirty in the morning. Come back to bed.”
Speaking those four small words was like flipping on a switch. Catherine felt embers glowing to life deep in her belly.
“I can’t. I need to go. I just have to find my boxers. I’ve gathered the rest of my things in the living room.”
“Flip on the light. It’s okay.”
“I don’t need the light, Catherine. I’m fine.” She heard him sliding into his underwear. “I’ll call you later.”
A shaft of dim light widened across the floor when he opened the bedroom door. Riley’s form blocked the light for a mere nanosecond. If Catherine had blinked she’d have missed it. Then he closed the door behind him.
Great, she thought. He was so overwhelmed by what had happened between them that he hadn’t even thought to kiss her goodbye.
Catherine chuckled as she flopped back against the down pillow. That was what she wanted in a man, in a husband. Someone who was overwhelmed by her.
The contentment making her feel light as air quickly became muddied as the thought of a husband and marriage reminded her of the ever-ticking clock, of the alarm that was about to jangle and send her flying home to Lextanya.
It had been that crushing pressure that had provoked Catherine into taking what she’d seen as the static situation between her and Riley firmly in hand and forcing something to happen. And even though she might not be all that proud of her method, the result had been more than she could have ever hoped for.
Still, now that Riley was gon
e and she was all alone with her pleasure cooling, Catherine began to feel guilty over having manipulated him with that oil.
Getting a vial of the NoWait had been easy enough. Once she’d decided to actually take a bottle—stealing was such a nasty little word—all she’d had to do was slip through the door marked Employees Only. Once in the hallway, she’d noticed that the whole atmosphere had changed.
The public part of the clinic was decorated in calm shades of blues and pearly greens, but the walls and floor of this hall had been stark white. She’d hit the jackpot in the very first door she’d entered. Complicated scientific equipment filled the black marble counters around the perimeter of the pristine lab. On the long, narrow island in the center of the room, Catherine had found a small stack of manila file folders marked NoWait. To the left of the door sat racks of small blue vials.
She hadn’t touched a thing in the room—except for the one vial she’d plucked from the rack and slipped into her purse. Her heart had been beating hard and strong even though she hadn’t seen a soul coming or going. However, a heavy guilt had moved in alongside that tiny bottle of oil.
Pure stubborn determination—and that ever-present ticking clock—had spurred her forward, though, without too much problem.
She’d left a note for Riley with the receptionist, and then she’d hopped into a taxi that had taken her to the Boys and Girls Club where she tried to fill up the long afternoon.
After picking up containers of Chinese food, she’d come back to the hotel to get herself ready for Riley’s arrival. She’d showered and dressed and put on a bit of makeup. Then she’d pulled out the NoWait.
The only information she’d had was that the oil was a topical treatment. But she had no idea just how much she was supposed to use.
I only used a little.
The trainer’s assertion to Faye had echoed through Catherine’s head. But how much was a little? A small spot? A quarter ounce? Half an ounce? More?
Catherine had dabbed some behind her ears and on her wrists. But then she worried that she hadn’t used enough so she’d smoothed some between her breasts and on the backs of her knees, and just for good measure, she’d splashed a bit behind each ankle.
Remembering the passion that had seemed to hypnotize Riley, she wondered if maybe she had gone a little overboard with the NoWait.
Catherine heard the front door close as Riley left, and she slid down under the sheet, the cool cotton caressing her body as she vividly recalled his hot kisses, his tender touch. They had made love for what had seemed like hours before falling asleep, exhausted, in each other’s arms. It had been the absolute best, most wonderful and memorable night of her life. And she refused to regret any of it.
She didn’t care if she had used too much.
Her time with Riley had been well worth it.
Although the meeting was being held in his office, Riley didn’t even try to pretend he was in charge. Portland General Hospital director, Dr. David Graham, had been strutting back and forth across the room like the rooster who owned the henhouse since he’d arrived.
When Riley had entered the clinic this morning, Dr. Richard Strong had been waiting for him. Furious beyond measure with himself for succumbing to his weaknesses last night, Riley knew it wasn’t really the best time to be dealing with the whole NoWait situation. However, these days nothing seemed to happen the way Riley expected, so what the hell did it matter that Dr. Strong had shown up today of all days?
There had been a few awkward moments between the two men, naturally, since Riley had taken Dr. Richie’s position when he’d disappeared nearly a month ago. However, Riley had put the man at ease quickly enough. Richard Strong may have made a mistake or two—or even three—over the course of his career, and stories about him abounded at the clinic. Yet Riley liked to form his own opinions about people. What he swiftly learned this morning was that Richard was charismatic and intelligent and daring. He was a person willing to take a chance in order to make his ideas come to fruition. Risks always came with a multitude of possibilities, good and bad, so Riley decided Richard was entitled to some missteps through the years.
They chatted awhile about the clinic in general. And after assuaging Richard’s fears and assuring him that he was indeed needed in the lab, Riley had called Faye and Dr. Graham and asked them to come to his office. Riley knew Faye would need to know of Richard’s return, and that the hospital director would appreciate the opportunity to give Richard the official welcome back.
And that was just what Dr. Graham had been doing for the past ten minutes. He buttered up Dr. Richie to the point that Riley feared the man would slide right out of his chair.
“Now that you’re back,” David Graham said to Richard, “we can finally get moving with the testing.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Richard shifted in his seat. “Can you tell me where we’re at in the lab?”
David looked at Riley expectantly.
“I’ve read over the protocol for the experiments,” Riley told them both. “But I don’t have much experience with laboratory research. Dr. Lassen’s been keeping an eye on things. She’s hired a study director, a chemist and two lab techs.”
Excitement brightened Richard’s expression.
“She’ll be able to fill you in when she arrives.” Riley glanced toward his office door. “I wonder where she is? I called her—”
“Oh, I caught Faye out in the hall before I came in,” Dr. Graham said. “I sent her for some fresh coffee. I thought Dr. Richie might enjoy some before he gets to work.”
A flash of irritation shot through Riley, and he clenched his jaw in an attempt to keep it in check.
“You want me to start today?” Pleasant surprise perked up Dr. Richie’s tone.
“I sure do.” David nodded enthusiastically. “I think all that nasty hoo-ha that happened last month has pretty much died down. Don’t you, Dr. Jacobs? In fact, I think after a month or so we might be able to talk about your returning to your original post running things here at the clinic. In fact, maybe a promotion to Chief of Staff might be in order.”
Riley was shocked. And as he sat there listening to Dr. Graham wax on, his hackles rose.
“If work in the lab goes well,” Richard commented, “I was hoping this might springboard into something even bigger.”
Dr. Graham’s grin was accompanied by more animated nodding. “I hope you’re right. I hope this turns into something big for all of us.”
“If I may make a request?” Richard asked.
“Of course.” Dr. Graham looked expectant.
Richard Strong planted both feet on the floor. “I’d like to run a seminar. It’s something I’ve been thinking about while I was…away from the clinic. It’s called Losing Weight Through Cognition: the ability to combine knowledge with reasoning, awareness and intuition.”
“I love the idea!” Graham barked out. “It’ll give the clients a chance to get reacquainted with you. And—”
“Excuse me,” Riley cut in. “I’m sorry to burst your bubble. But I think the staff here at the clinic will have to get together and decide if a new seminar should be offered. The staff know the clients very well. They know the atmosphere. They’re much more qualified to project the success of a workshop given by Dr. Strong.”
“I understand.” Richard smoothed his palms together. “And I agree. You talk to the staff, Dr. Jacobs, and let me know.”
“Actually,” Riley decided to insert, “Dr. Lassen is in charge of staff meetings and the seminar schedule. Correct me if I’m wrong, Dr. Strong, but that’s the way things were when you were here before, wasn’t it?”
Annoyance etched David Graham’s face.
Just then Faye Lassen let herself into the office carrying a tray laden with four cups. The smell of coffee immediately permeated the air.
“Hello, everyone,” Faye greeted. “I brought coffee—”
“I’ve got to be going,” Dr. Graham interrupted. “But I’d appreciate it, Fa
ye, if you’d fill Dr. Richie in on everything that’s happening in the lab.”
“Well, I’ve got a lot on my plate this morning, sir,” Faye said.
“I’m sure you can work things out,” the hospital director insisted.
Ire had Riley blurting, “I’ll cover for you, Faye. I’m free most of the morning.”
Dr. Graham was busy pumping Dr. Richie’s hand. “Glad to have you back.” Over his shoulder, he said, “Dr. Jacobs, Faye, keep up the good work.” With that Portland General’s director breezed out the door.
Anger rolled through Riley. “Excuse me for a moment.”
“No problem,” Richard told him. “Dr. Lassen and I have a lot to talk about.”
Out in the hall, Riley jogged several steps to catch up with David Graham.
The elderly man looked surprised to see him.
“You’re not seriously considering reinstating Richard Strong as director of the clinic, are you?”
“Don’t worry.” The man didn’t slow his steps. “We’ll find a nice cushy spot for you—”
“I’m not worried about me,” Riley snapped. “I’m worried about the clinic. That man can’t be trusted. He walked out a month ago without looking back, and he didn’t bother contacting anyone.”
“He deserves a second chance. You should know something about second chances.”
Riley smoldered.
“Besides, we opened this clinic on Dr. Richie’s good reputation.” Dr. Graham shoved open the heavy glass door. Riley pushed open its twin. And they stepped out into the morning sunshine. “We can afford to overlook his small indiscretion. I’m surprised that you can’t see what a benefit he could be to the clinic.”
Riley didn’t comment right away, only continued to walk toward the hospital. Then he said, “Dr. Strong is obviously on to something.” What, exactly, could be anyone’s guess. “It’s clear that NoWait does affect people. He should be involved in the testing. But he isn’t qualified to run the clinic.”
David Graham stopped short. “What are you saying? Don’t tell me that you’re looking to stay on because—”
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