41: Forty-One

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"Did you know?" Arran asks, washing his hands in the sink as we prepare for our first patient of the day.

"Know what?"

He huffs, "You did, didn't you? You knew that Blair was going to be at the shop. You sent me there on purpose."

The accusation makes me want to smile, so I turn away from him, heading for the waiting area as I toss a question over my shoulder in my most innocent-sounding voice. "You ran into Blair?"

"Yes, and you knew I would. You weren't even awake to eat the fruit strings when I got back!" Arran accuses.

"You didn't get home until after midnight," I rebut, "and the shop closes at ten. I was hungry and tired, so I ate some of the cashews Harry bought and went to sleep. Sheesh. Someone listening to our conversation might assume that you didn't have a good time."

Stopping at the first exam room, Arran lightly touches my arm to force me to turn to him. "You knew," he repeats, "and I thank you. Just – next time..." Shaping his beard, he lowers his eyes, "could you give me some warning? I would have worn something different."

"Oh, no. No, no, no. If you had changed into fancier clothes or I had warned you, Blair would have known. It would have smelled like a setup and she would have come after me. In fact, she still might since you figured it out."

Lowering his voice, he leans towards me, "Don't worry. I told her that I needed fruit strings."

Both of my hands cover my mouth, "But you don't even like fruit strings!"

Shrugging, he laughs. "What she doesn't know..."

Swatting at him, I go to the lobby and head for the front door, sticking my head outside to greet the fans – who continue to remain absent. Part of me feels a bit disappointed to not see them every day.

"They're not there," Paddy says from behind me, and I turn my head rather quickly.

Suddenly I'm lightheaded, and I have to grab the counter to keep myself on my feet.

"Dr. Anna?"

"Anna!"

Taking a deep breath, I clear the fog that had started swirling around my brain. "Whew. That was wild."

"Did you eat today?" Paddy asks, concerned.

"Let me get you some juice." Cara bustles from the front where she's been manning the appointment book.

Kai scrambles to stand behind me, putting his hands on my waist. "Steady there, Dr. Anna. You okay?"

My independent self bristles at the extra attention from everyone, but then I recall how lovely it is to have so many people who care about me, and my heart warms. "Whew. I'm okay. I think Paddy and Cara are right. My blood sugar probably dropped."

"I'll get you some real food," Arran announces, moving towards the house.

Although I want to refuse, the truth is that I'm still a bit wobbly, and my breakfast had been a banana and muffin for a second day in a row. Perhaps some protein would help? Kai guides me to one of the chairs in our waiting area, sitting me next to a man I've not met previously. He's holding a box, and when I peer over the side, I see a cat with some of the worst matted fur I've ever seen.

The gentleman clearly sees me looking at his cat, and he bristles. "Ain't my fault. He's been living with my ex-wife, and I didn't know it was this bad until I dropped off my kids this morning. Can you help?"

I smile at the man, "Of course. Let me get some gloves."

From over my shoulder, a pair of gloves appear, and I've no idea who held them there, but I snap them on my hands before I reach into the box and touch the cat. He mewls, and I know that the matted fur is painful.

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