Lady and the Champ Read Online Free

me.
    Just then, Roger Parsons, another of the PTs who’s worked here about three years longer than I have, comes out of the therapy area carrying a clipboard. He takes one look at me and his expression tightens like he just ate a lemon full of battery acid. He grabs a folder off Teri’s desk, tosses me a glare, then stalks back into the room whence he came.
    Okay. What the hell was that about?
    I glance at Teri, wondering if she has any insight, but she doesn’t say anything. Her smile has faded just a bit, though. Shit. What is going on?
    Only one way to find out.
    My boss, Dr. Richards, is an older man—maybe sixty, but he doesn’t look it. He’s always been good to me, not condescending like a lot of men can be, especially in sports-related fields. He was the only one who returned my calls. Somehow he saw through all the bullshit my ex spun in the press. Or he took a chance. Basically, he hired me when no one else would.
    And I’ve just pissed off a major client.
    My stomach turns with self-disgust as I open the doors to his office. Dr. Richards sits behind his cluttered oak desk, where seven football bobbleheads greet me. He gives me a wide smile and stands.
    Whoa. Not the reaction I was expecting.
    “Chloe, good to see you. Have a seat.”
    I settle into the chair in front of his desk painfully as though it’s a pincushion. He sits back down and folds his hands on the desk, still smiling.
    “I’m sorry I called you in on your day off.”
    But our client mentioned that you slut-shamed him yesterday, and I’m afraid we can’t tolerate an employee who— Oh God. Shut up .
    I swallow hard. “It’s all right.”
    “I just didn’t want to put this off.”
    “Okay.”
    I stretch my lips across my face, feeling like a mannequin. Something must flicker there, though, because he says, with a chuckle, “Chloe. Relax. You look terrified.”
    “No, I’m not.”
    He just chuckles again. “You’ve been doing a great job for us, Chloe. Your work ethic is excellent. I won’t deny that I had some reservations in the beginning about you—”
    Thanks to my asshole ex.
    “—But you’ve never backed down from a challenge, even when we’ve thrown things at you at the last minute. Like yesterday, when you stepped in to work with Sherwood.”
    Whatever minor relaxation I managed disappears, and I go tense again. “I’m sorry if that didn’t go as well as you expected—”
    But he waves me off before I can get all the words out. “No, no, no. You did a fantastic job. Or you must have, because Mr. Sherwood has asked you to be assigned as his personal physical therapist from here on out.”
    Wait, what?
    My mouth drops open and hangs there for an interminable few seconds. When I realize I’m gaping at him like a trout, I snap it shut again. “Seriously?”
    “Yes. He called last night and left me a message. It’s why I had you come in this morning—so we could get everything set up and get you started working with him right away.”
    “Seriously?” Wait. I just said that. Maybe if I open my mouth again, something else will come out.
    That doesn’t work. Instead I end up sitting there with my mouth open again. Dr. Richards is eyeing me with more than a little amusement, a nice dose of puzzlement tossed in on the side. “Yes. Seriously.”
    “But…why?”
    “He said he was very happy with his session yesterday.” He pauses. “I take it this is a surprise? He didn’t say anything to you?”
    Oh, he said a lot of things to me yesterday. I barely—just barely—manage not to say it out loud. “Not about this, no.” My shock is phasing rapidly into anger. Why in the world would Austin ask for me to work with him after I explicitly told him not to? What the hell is he playing at here?
    “Huh.” Dr. Richards looks disappointed, as if he expected to hear an interesting story about my fun times with Austin Sherwood.
    I feel my molars scrape together.
    “I was hoping you could tell me what you did to