time Coach has finished talking on the phone with Johnny Maine, I’m smiling to myself. I guess Johnny has somewhat of a soul after all, because he agrees to let me go wherever I want for my physical therapy, regardless of where it’s located.
I wince as I move too quickly, trying to get up from my office desk so that Coach can take a seat. “Here,” I say to him, patting my chair. “I already have her office number right here on my desk.”
Coach gives me the eye but sits down anyway, flipping the card over in his hand before sighing and dialing it on my office phone.
“Hello, is this Miss Sullivan’s office? Yes, hello. My name is Coach Jeffrey Tomlin, and I wanted to inquire about your open appointments. Do you have any? I have a client that needs to begin physical therapy for his sports injury. You do cover that, right? Who’s my client? Does that actually matter—” He pauses when I quickly wave my hands in front of him, mouthing for him to wait.
“Just give her my name!” I whisper. I can tell by the voice on the phone that it’s not Paige who answered. Which makes this even better, since I don’t really know how Paige would react if she were the one answering the phone.
Coach rolls his eyes at me. “My client is Elijah Witter. Wide receiver for the San Antonio Longhorns. There will be an NDA involved if we do decide to use your services, just so you know. So you do know Mr. Witter then. Interesting. Okay then, what can we set up?”
If there were some tiny little part of me that was still a kid, it would be jumping up and down like a lunatic right about now. Maybe that’s stupid. Maybe I’m just getting way too ahead of myself here, but dammit, I’m allowed to be slightly hopeful with my thoughts, aren’t I?
“Well, uh, thank you, ma’am. I’m actually his Coach, like I said. Ha! You’re too kind, because I’m damn sure too old for you, I bet. Oh no? Really? Hmm, that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to me. Oh no, I won’t be the one bringing him in, unfortunately. Yes, ma’am, you take care of yourself as well. Ha-ha, thank you again.” Coach looks completely self-gratified now, leaning back in my chair with one arm folded back behind him as he hangs up the phone. “Well that wasn’t Miss Sullivan, but her sister sure is a sweetheart. Looks like you actually know Miss Sullivan . . . personally. Funny how you didn’t mention that before.”
I scratch at the overgrown scruff on my face. “I didn’t? Yeah, that is funny. I could’ve sworn I did. Anyway, I know her. We went to school together growing up. That’s why trust her instincts, and I know she’ll help me heal up as fast as I possibly can.”
My eyes grow wide as I realize something. “You said it was her sister who answered? Shit.”
I quickly reach for the phone and hit redial, “Hello, Coastal Physical Therapy. How may I help you today?” I instantly recognize Stacey Sullivan’s voice and have to roll my eyes. Paige told me a little bit about Stacey recently, but I do happen to recall just how much of a brat she could be to her little sister back in the day. Some things aren’t that easy to forgive—at least, for me.
“Hi, Stacey. It’s Elijah Witter. Simmons, I mean. Can you do me a big favor?”
She pauses for a moment before answering. “Depends on what it is.”
“You cannot tell Paige about this. I don’t want her to . . . well, just don’t tell her, okay? I’d really appreciate it. If you need anything like season tickets or whatever, let me know and I’ll take care of it. I just need this to be kind of a surprise for Paige.”
Stacey laughs into my ear. “Of course I’m not going to tell her, Elijah. She would have a freaking heart attack. I’ll keep your little secret, but my husband does happen to like y’all’s team pretty well. Any chance I could score tickets to the nearest game? Well, that would certainly sweeten the deal.”
“No problem. I’ll have my manager set it
I wince as I move too quickly, trying to get up from my office desk so that Coach can take a seat. “Here,” I say to him, patting my chair. “I already have her office number right here on my desk.”
Coach gives me the eye but sits down anyway, flipping the card over in his hand before sighing and dialing it on my office phone.
“Hello, is this Miss Sullivan’s office? Yes, hello. My name is Coach Jeffrey Tomlin, and I wanted to inquire about your open appointments. Do you have any? I have a client that needs to begin physical therapy for his sports injury. You do cover that, right? Who’s my client? Does that actually matter—” He pauses when I quickly wave my hands in front of him, mouthing for him to wait.
“Just give her my name!” I whisper. I can tell by the voice on the phone that it’s not Paige who answered. Which makes this even better, since I don’t really know how Paige would react if she were the one answering the phone.
Coach rolls his eyes at me. “My client is Elijah Witter. Wide receiver for the San Antonio Longhorns. There will be an NDA involved if we do decide to use your services, just so you know. So you do know Mr. Witter then. Interesting. Okay then, what can we set up?”
If there were some tiny little part of me that was still a kid, it would be jumping up and down like a lunatic right about now. Maybe that’s stupid. Maybe I’m just getting way too ahead of myself here, but dammit, I’m allowed to be slightly hopeful with my thoughts, aren’t I?
“Well, uh, thank you, ma’am. I’m actually his Coach, like I said. Ha! You’re too kind, because I’m damn sure too old for you, I bet. Oh no? Really? Hmm, that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to me. Oh no, I won’t be the one bringing him in, unfortunately. Yes, ma’am, you take care of yourself as well. Ha-ha, thank you again.” Coach looks completely self-gratified now, leaning back in my chair with one arm folded back behind him as he hangs up the phone. “Well that wasn’t Miss Sullivan, but her sister sure is a sweetheart. Looks like you actually know Miss Sullivan . . . personally. Funny how you didn’t mention that before.”
I scratch at the overgrown scruff on my face. “I didn’t? Yeah, that is funny. I could’ve sworn I did. Anyway, I know her. We went to school together growing up. That’s why trust her instincts, and I know she’ll help me heal up as fast as I possibly can.”
My eyes grow wide as I realize something. “You said it was her sister who answered? Shit.”
I quickly reach for the phone and hit redial, “Hello, Coastal Physical Therapy. How may I help you today?” I instantly recognize Stacey Sullivan’s voice and have to roll my eyes. Paige told me a little bit about Stacey recently, but I do happen to recall just how much of a brat she could be to her little sister back in the day. Some things aren’t that easy to forgive—at least, for me.
“Hi, Stacey. It’s Elijah Witter. Simmons, I mean. Can you do me a big favor?”
She pauses for a moment before answering. “Depends on what it is.”
“You cannot tell Paige about this. I don’t want her to . . . well, just don’t tell her, okay? I’d really appreciate it. If you need anything like season tickets or whatever, let me know and I’ll take care of it. I just need this to be kind of a surprise for Paige.”
Stacey laughs into my ear. “Of course I’m not going to tell her, Elijah. She would have a freaking heart attack. I’ll keep your little secret, but my husband does happen to like y’all’s team pretty well. Any chance I could score tickets to the nearest game? Well, that would certainly sweeten the deal.”
“No problem. I’ll have my manager set it
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