Page 139 of Clinically Bewitched
My eye twitched.
Both eyes, actually.
I stood up, adjusted my clothes, and tried to make myself presentable. Checked my reflection in the window to make sure I didn’t look like I’d just been thoroughly ravished by my pregnant wife. Only, I did look as if I’d just been thoroughly ravished by my pregnant wife.
Perfect.
There was a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I said, trying to sound normal.
Fitz stuck his head in. “You alright, mate? You look a bit... flushed.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? Your face is very red.”
“It’s warm in here.”
“Is it?” He looked around. “Feels fine to me.”
Go away. Please, for the love of God, go away.
“Was that Athena I saw leaving?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Yes.”
“She looked very happy.”
“She’s pregnant. Pregnancy hormones.”
“Right.” His smile widened. “Pregnancy hormones. That’s definitely what that was.”
He knows. He absolutely knows.
“Don’t you have patients to see?” I asked.
“I do. But annoying you is much more entertaining.”
“Fitz.”
“Your tie is crooked, by the way.”
I looked down.
My tie was indeed crooked.
Damn it!
“Meeting in five minutes,” Fitz said cheerfully. “Don’t be late!”
He left, and I could hear him laughing in the hallway.
I’m never going to hear the end of this.
Never.
I fixed my tie, grabbed my files, and tried to compose myself.
