Page 38 of The Spare

Claire: Excellent. Okay, off to wrangle some ranch hands. Have a great day, everyone.

Stepping from my office, I head to the front desk to see if Bunny has any updates to the schedule before my day gets going. But I barely make it two steps before I feel a looming presence behind me. Turning, I frown.

“Morning, Lexi.” Chad winks. It takes me back twenty years as my eyes roll as they had in the high school corridor. “Awe, is that any type of greeting?”

“Sorry,” I snip. “I’ve got a busy day ahead, Chad.”

All of a sudden, I feel his hand on my elbow, and I spin to face him.

“You have any plans later?”

My spine stiffens, and I glance up at him deadpan. “Why, your wife out of town?”

“No. But she doesn’t need to come along. Unless you’re into that kinda thing.”

My blood boils. “If memory serves, she’s not. Hence why wasting a year of my life dating you was one of the biggest mistakes I ever made. Not sure why you were stringing me along when it was obvious she was the one who was always going to get your ring.” I walk toward the receptionist counter, tossing over my shoulder, “But I dodged that bullet once. There’s no way I’m getting back in the line of fire.”

Yet as I reach the empty office, I frown as I remember Sam is coming here today. Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing with him?

The day passes in a blur. My third patient of the day was an elderly gentleman who had inserted a safety pin into his urethra. I’m hoping he has dementia because he said, “I don’t know how it got there.” It had been pushed in far enough that he was required to have surgical extraction. And a psychiatric evaluation.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

I pick up my desk phone with my eyes still locked on my prior patient’s chart. “Dr. Patterson.”

“Alexis, dear. You have a gentleman here to see you,” Bunny’s nearly giddy voice dances from the receiver before her tone drops to a whisper. “And I approve.”

Approve? What does that mean?

“He’s on his way.” She giggles.

I’ve barely placed the phone back on its cradle before I notice Sam leaning against the doorframe, holding a paper bag from Ash & Olive and a bouquet of assorted green and white flowers. A normal-sized bouquet.

My stomach growls. “Hello. What’ve you got in there?”

He chuckles. “You hungry?”

“Maybe.”

Sam moves closer, depositing the flowers and brown sack on my desk. There’s certainly no need to get excited about the gesture. He’s already admitted this is all for show. Reaching inside, he withdraws two rectangular containers of Caesar salad, a baguette, and a container of butter.

“Thank you. This looks really good. I haven’t been to Ash & Olive in ages.”

“You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do.”

“You’re right,” I answer without hesitation.

We tuck into our food momentarily, each of us stealing glances at one another over our forks.

“First, I want to have a contract drawn up by my attorney, not yours.”

“Whatever you want, Lex.” He chews. “But I feel like there should be some financial reward for this.”

I snort. “There isn’t compensation large enough for being married to you. So let’s just agree to put all of Pop’s money where it belongs.”

He shakes his head, an easy smile on his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

I place another forkful of salad in my mouth and chew. “Second, if I ask you to join me at a work function, you’ll move heaven and earth to attend. No excuses. They’re boring as hell, but if I’m going to get any professional mileage out of this union, there’s no backing out at the eleventh hour.”