Chapter 9

      Alex stood when Kelly, followed by David, walked through the door.

       “Ms. Maxwell.” Alex approached. He extended his hand then realized his faux pas. “I’m Dr. Hutchinson.” He was oddly transfixed by her and didn’t know why. Was it the look of uncertainty in her dark eyes or the cascade of ebony hair that brushed her slender shoulders, framing not a beautiful face by any standards but a rather plain one? Her face was a puzzle of exotic and very ordinary all mixed together.

       “I’m David Livingston. Kelly’s coach.”

       Alex focused on David. “Mr. Livingston.” He shook David’s hand.

       “Call me David.”

       Alex nodded but didn’t offer the same familiarity in return. Kelly had yet to speak.

       She hopped over to the chair and sat down without a word, thinking that the fabulous Dr. Hutchinson was really the actor Blair Underwood in a lab coat. Dark, handsome, boyish good looks with a maturity that would never age and a subtle sex appeal that wafted around him like a good cologne.

       Alex pressed his lips together and exhaled a short laugh. “Why don’t we get started? I’ve gone over your chart and your X-rays.” He perched on the edge of his desk. “Can you tell me what happened?”

       “Is that really necessary?” David interjected.

       Alex turned his gaze toward David. “Whenever I work with a patient, I like to know as much about them as well as everything that led up to them having to see me.” The left corner of his mouth curved in an expression that was a challenge more than a grin.

       “I was practicing,” Kelly suddenly said.

       Both men turned toward her.

       She cleared her throat. “I was getting ready for the trials…the Olympic trials.”

       “Next summer, right?”

       Kelly nodded her head in agreement.

       Alex smiled. “Former track-and-field groupie.” He rested his arms on his thighs. “You want to tell me what happened?” he asked gently.

       Kelly told him about that day on the track while David stood in the corner with a petulant scowl on his face and his arms folded.

       “I have to be honest with you,” he began once Kelly finished. “The injury that you sustained is quite severe for someone with no previous breaks and for someone in good physical condition. You didn’t step on anything or remember twisting it in an odd way?”

       “No. I was running the way I always do. When I made the final turn…” She winced at the memory.

       Alex stood. “Okay. We’ll want to run a few tests before we get started and get some new MRIs of that ankle. How does it feel when you put pressure on it?”

       “Not bad. More of an ache than a pain.”

       There was a knock on the door.

       “Come in.”

       “Good morning.” Ruby looked from Kelly to David.

       “This is my assistant, Ruby Rivers. You’ll be working with her during your rehab.”

       “My understanding was that you would be Kelly’s physician, not an assistant,” David said. He said the last word like a curse.

       Ruby arched a brow and her neck reflexively jerked back like in her days in the East New York projects.

       “Ms. Rivers is a licensed and certified physical therapist. She is the one I’d go to should the need ever arise.” He stepped over to Kelly. “I’ll see you in about an hour after Ruby runs a few tests and takes some information.” He walked to the door and pulled it open. “Mr. Livingston, can I speak with you a moment?”

       “I want to wait until Ms. Rivers is done. There may be some questions I can answer.”

       Alex glanced in Kelly’s direction and caught the flash of panic that widened her eyes. “She’ll be fine with Ruby,” he said faltering a bit, caught off guard by the expression on Kelly’s face. He put his hand on David’s shoulder and ushered him out. “We can talk in the lounge.”

       “I’ve been a fan of yours for a while,” Ruby said.

       Kelly offered a faint smile.

       “Must be tough being in the spotlight.”

       Kelly didn’t respond.

       “I’m going to take some blood.” She cleaned Kelly’s arm at the bend of her elbow, prepared the needle and drew two vials of blood.

       Kelly looked away until Ruby was finished. Ruby bent Kelly’s arm toward her chest while pressing a sterile gauze at the site of the tiny puncture.

       “Just hold that in place for a few minutes.” She put the vials on a tray and filled out two labels. “I really am quite good at what I do.” She turned to Kelly. “And Hutch is even better.” She smiled.

       “Hutch?”

       “Yes, Dr. Hutchinson. Everyone around here calls him Hutch.”

       “Oh.” Kelly smiled, running the name and the image of the man around in her mind.

       “He’s worked with some of the greats, from basketball stars to jockeys, and got them back out there,” she assured, hoping to ease the lines of tension that framed Kelly’s dark eyes.

       Kelly released a long sigh. “Running is all I’ve ever known,” she said softly.

       “One thing my mama always told me was never put all your eggs in one basket. I originally went to school for interior design. Thought I was the next great B. Smith.” She chuckled. “I struggled for about five years when I realized it wasn’t for me or I wasn’t for it.”

       “So how did you decide on therapy?”

       “My mom had a hip injury about ten years ago. And the doctors really botched it. I had to move back home to help her. I had to learn things just to help her get through her day. I got really interested in the recovery process and didn’t want to see anyone go through what my mother went through. So I went back to school. I actually studied under Hutch. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

       “How long do you think I’ll have to be here?”

       “That all depends on how well you do during the rehab and the extent of your injury. We’ll work with the ankle and the whole body. You’ll be put on a specific exercise regime along with a diet.”

       Her heart thumped. “Diet?”

       “Absolutely. We want to make sure your body has everything it needs to rebuild and become as strong as it can be. The instructions are easy to follow.”

      Diet. Instructions. She hadn’t figured on that.