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impress him.”
    “I honestly have no idea.” I’m going to find out, though. And Austin had better have a damn good explanation. He’s put me into a position that’s beyond awkward, and I don’t appreciate it.
    “Well.” Dr. Richards shrugs it off, though I can tell he’s not entirely satisfied. “In any case, I’m sure you understand how important it is that we keep him happy. He’s a very well-known player, and his endorsement could bring us a good number of new customers in the long term.”
    I nod. Now I’m starting to get irritated at Dr. Richards, which isn’t the best idea. But I know how important Austin could be as a client. It’s a given. And that gives me another reason to be irritated. I don’t need to be lectured. In fact, it’s the first time he’s ever acted like I needed to get extra instructions about an assignment. In the past, he’s just trusted me. Yet another thing I can throw at Austin Sherwood’s feet.
    “I understand.”
    He gives me a smile. “I’m sure you do. That’s one of the reasons I’m happy you’re taking him on as a patient. I have the utmost faith in you.”
    “Thanks for that. When do I get started?” Accepting my fate doesn’t mean I’m not going to rip Sherwood a new one when I see him next. Of course, part of me is leaping with joy that I’ll be able to see him again. Touch him. Scrub the knots out of his body. My mind drifts to thoughts completely inappropriate for a physical therapist, and I drag them back. Dr. Richards is talking. Answering my question, even. It would probably be a good idea for me to listen.
    “Playoffs are coming up,” he says, “and your job is basically to get him prepared for that. He’s got a couple of nagging injuries, I’ve been told, that haven’t been giving him too much trouble, but they want to be sure it’s not going to be an issue going into the home stretch on the season. So I’d like you to get started right away. This afternoon if possible.”
    Great. I’m only going to have a couple of hours to get ready. I need mental preparation more than anything else, and that’s always the hardest.
    “I know you’ll do great,” he says then, and I realize he’s taking my near-silence as a sign I’m doubting myself. “I have every confidence in you.”
    “Thank you, Dr. Richards. I appreciate your trust in me.”
    He smiles. “It’s well deserved, I assure you. Just remember—make him happy.”
    Austin’s “happy ending” comment floats through my head, and I grit my teeth again. There’s no way in hell I’m making Austin Sherwood as happy as he apparently wants to be. Fortunately, I know that’s not part of my job. Keeping him under control is part of my job, though, and that could prove a challenge if I’m reading him right. “I’ll do my best.”
    “I know you will.”

    * * *
    I ’m on the way home when my cellphone rings. I don’t recognize the number, but I have a good idea who it is.
    Three guesses. First two don’t count.
    Sure enough, it’s Austin Sherwood
    “Hey, Doc!” he says cheerfully. “Richards says everything’s cool and I should call you. So I’m calling you.”
    “Who’s speaking?” I say coolly. I know, of course, but he didn’t introduce himself and why should he just assume I’ll know it’s him? He needs to be taken down a peg or two. Or, you know, nine thousand and twelve.
    “You are,” he answers.
    I want to smack him through the phone. The deadly pheromones he exudes in close quarters seem to be weakened when they have to bounce through a series of cell towers. Good to know.
    The smartass comment is followed by a swear-to-God giggle. “It’s Austin. Austin Sherwood.”
    “Good morning, Mr. Sherwood. It’s good to hear from you.” My voice is cucumber-cool. “How may I help you?”
    There’s a short silence, then he says, “Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it.” The mischievous tone has leached out of his voice, and now he just sounds smugly