and I feel like a jerk for not asking him to join me.
"Really?" I ask. "At the Eclectic Cafe? I thought physical therapy paid better than that?" I take a sip of my latte, hoping he knows I'm merely teasing.
"Actually, I went into private practice. Just a couple of blocks from here. I'm getting a lot of referrals from the Columbia Athletic Department. It's a nice chunk of business."
I break off a piece of the croissant just as the actual server brings Krew his order of a banana smoothie and a plate of fresh fruit.
"Still a health nut," I see, rolling my eyes. "But hey, congratulations on your new gig. Private practice and you're what? Like twenty-seven?"
"Twenty-eight," he corrects, forking a chunk of pineapple and popping it into his mouth. 'His sensuous mouth,' I think to myself.
Okay, so let me 'fess up. Right from the start I'd been infatuated by Krew's extraordinary looks and build. Almost to the point where I didn't want to bitch about the physical therapy exercises and personal recovery plan he developed for me. Almost being the operative word. He dubbed me the nickname 'Princess', which I hope, after these few months, he's blessedly forgotten.
"So, how about you, Princess? I'm surprised you're back in the Big Apple, after well, you know with your injuries and all."
"You should know my stubbornness better than anyone," I volley. "I'm not about to give up my pursuit of a career in journalism as a result of my . . . accident."
His deep green eyes study me intently, and I can't help but notice the tick in his jaw after I mention my accident. "Glad to see you still have your spirit. I think that's likely what pulled you through the trauma. That's a totally non-medical assessment on my part. Are you still exercising, doing your stretches, and embracing some of the holistic yoga I recommended?"
"Um . . . yeah, sure I do. I mean when I have time. I'm carrying a pretty heavy load this semester to make up for missing most of last semester. Time is limited."
He gives me his crooked grin, showing his straight white teeth, and his dimple makes an appearance. "Like shit you are exercising, Princess," he replies with a chuckle. "How about I give you my card, stop by my clinic during my hours. I have a nice workout salon you're welcome to use. Free of charge. I'll be your P.T."
"Ohh no," I say, shaking my head but taking his card nonetheless, "I'm done with the torture of physical therapy."
He chuckles again, "No Princess, the 'P.T.' I'm referring to is as in 'Personal Trainer.' No torture, I promise. Scouts honor," he finishes, holding up two fingers.
"Yeah, as if you were ever a Boy Scout, Krew."
He gives me a hang-dog look, and I have to give up a smile. "Okay, okay, I will. But the first time something hurts, I'm outtie," I clarify.
"Deal," he says, finishing up the rest of his fruit. He grabs his plastic smoothie cup and slides out of the booth. "I promise I'm not into inflicting unnecessary pain. It was really good running into you, Princess. Now don't stand me up, or I swear, I'll come looking for you now that I know this is one of your hangouts." He gives me a wink, my heart does a bit of a pitter-patter, and then he's off.
I put his card into my backpack, knowing I won't let too much time go by before taking Krew up on his offer. It's time for me to start living again, one baby step at a time.
9
Missing in Action
The first thing on Monday morning before my first class, I take a detour over to the faculty office building, and specifically, make a stop at Professor’s Armentrout’s office.
As I expect, Kandace is still filling in this week for the absent-for-elective-surgery Diane Forester.
“Hi Kandace,” I greet cordially, “I was here-”
“Oh yeah," she cuts me off, "Carson Matthews, of course. I remember you. Dan isn’t in yet though. Did you have an appointment?” she asks, giving me a quizzical look.
“No, no,” I reply, “I was just trying to locate another one of Professor Armentrout’s students from our Communications class last semester. Well . . . we had sort’ve been working on a project together, and of course, I lost contact with her after my uh . . . accident.”
“Oh yes,” she replies, “I heard about that unfortunate incident from Dan. Such a horrible thing to happen. But I don’t understand?