“Well,” she said at last, her gaze on the last of the scans, “I don’t see any evidence of a degenerative tear. Looks like there’s some fraying, possibly a partial.” She lowered the scan and looked from Cole to Wyatt. “If you’re asking for my opinion regarding whether or not surgery is needed, I’ll say that I don’t think so, based on these. Targeted rehab should do the trick.”
Her words cemented Cole’s desire to work with her. Wyatt had presented the scans to a friend as a general consultation without giving Cole’s name and received the same verdict. Hearing it from Everly somehow instilled more confidence in Cole, though.
“That’s why we’re here,” he said, causing Everly to look at him. “I’m in need of a physical therapist.” When her eyes widened, he grinned. “I want that physical therapist to be you, Everly.”
* * *
If she lived to be a hundred and fifty, Everly would never forget sitting beside Cole Parker—close enough she could feel his body heat through his clothes—and him asking her to be his physical therapist. This had to be a dream.
“I’m still a student,” she managed when she found her voice. She couldn’t seem to look away from him. “You should be going to a certified—”
“I know what I should be doing,” he interrupted. He looked humored, which made her frown. “But I don’t want any hint of my treatment ending up public knowledge.”
Realization had her back stiffening. The only reason they were approaching her to work with Cole was because of her status as a student. Any pride she might have felt over this proposal swiftly faded. Anger rose to take its place.
“I see. It’s a contract year for you, isn’t it?” she asked. She remembered reading an online article about it. “Heaven forbid you receive treatment for an injury so common in pitchers.”
“Everly, I apologize for Cole’s lack of finesse,” Wyatt said from his position against the desk. “What he means is—”
“I’m not interested in being finessed.” Her throat burned with hurt as she got to her feet and caught Wyatt’s gaze. “I don’t know what to say right now, Wyatt. Maybe you think I’m convenient, or maybe you just think I’m willing to risk my future because you know I’m an Atlanta fan and you’ve helped me out in the past. But this is out of line.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Cole said, also getting to his feet. “Don’t take your anger out on Wy. Maybe I didn’t word this right.”
His tone caught her attention. Gone was the arrogant humor of a moment ago. Now, she saw a hint of desperation in his eyes.
“I’m not the best with words and explanations,” he said. He reached out and touched her shoulder. The contact made her pulse hum again. “Please, will you just hear us out?”
She forced herself to calm down and gave a brisk nod. When Cole waved again at the couch, she took a seat and waited for him to do the same. Wyatt continued to watch them from the desk. She knew him well and decided that he was biting his tongue. It seemed he wanted Cole to direct this conversation.
He did so the moment he sat down, angling his body so he faced her. She sat at the edge of the cushion, her knees and hands clenched together.
“You’re right that this is a contract year for me,” he said. “Since you apparently follow baseball, you know that injuries weigh heavily in those kinds of decisions. If a team decides that a player’s injury could be chronic, they’ll be less likely to invest in him. That could mean a decrease in pay or, more importantly, a trade to another team. In worst-case scenarios, players might not be picked up at all.”
She couldn’t prevent a snort over that. “You’re in your prime, Cole. You’ll be fine.”
He shook his head. “Everly, I don’t want to leave Atlanta. I know that it’s rare these days for a player to finish his career with the team where he started, but I really want that. My family’s here. I was raised here and went to school here. I don’t want to give team decision-makers any reason to question whether they should renew my contract. Between you, me, and my agent, I’d take less money just to stay here.”
She considered that. Many players would say that they’d change teams in a minute if it meant more money. Sincerity reflected in his eyes, though. The truth was, she didn’t want him changing teams, either. She’d grown up an Atlanta fan and had been crushing on him for years.
“Cole, I respect your wish to stay with your team. I really do. But you need the help of someone with access to the right equipment who can focus on your rehab from now until spring training starts, and I can’t do that. School has to be my top priority.”
“Wyatt gave me a head’s up on the equipment. I’ve got a fully outfitted gym at my house. Anything you need, I can get. And I know that your last final is in two weeks and then you’re out of school until mid-January. We could work around your school schedule for now and then we can work together as often as we need to until you’re back in classes. By then my rehab should be to the point where I can work on it by myself with limited help until spring training in February.”
He’d really put a lot of thought into this, Everly realized. Even as the impossibility of his suggestion made her shake her head, she couldn’t help but be flattered.
“As you can see,” she said, waving at her uniform, “I have more obligations than just my studies. I work here, I perform extra work at the school to earn my assistantship, and I volunteer at several sports rehabilitation centers in the area. I can’t afford to put my life aside to do this.”
Now, Wyatt leaned forward and drew her attention. “Everly, you know your school obligations will come to a lull after finals, and Rowan mentioned that Kathleen’s unable to give you the extra shifts you requested during the holiday season because you approached her later than everyone else.”
She held back a wince. She was still kicking herself over that. School had taken up so much of her time that she hadn’t thought to approach Kathleen until it was too late.
“With you only working here a few nights a week and not having school to distract you, you’d have the time to work with Cole.”
Feeling Cole’s gaze on her, she said, “I’ve approached some of my contacts in the sports rehab world to see if there are any paying positions open right now. I want to build up my resume with graduation coming up this summer.”
“You’d get plenty of direct experience working with me,” Cole pointed out.
“Nothing I could list on my resume if you want to keep this quiet,” she countered.
He frowned, acknowledging her point. “What’s the largest tip you’ve ever made?” he asked after a moment.
Blinking over the question, she thought of the five hundred dollar tip he’d given her earlier. It was more than twice her second largest tip ever. Her eyes flickered to her purse beside her. Cole followed her gaze. Heat suffused her face when she saw he understood.
“I’ll triple it,” he said.
She considered that. Fifteen hundred dollars for about six to eight weeks of work. Not too shabby, especially when combined with her pay from Prix Fixe. Feeling her resolve slipping, she looked again at Wyatt. The hope she saw in his eyes gave her resolve another nudge.
“Fifteen hundred for me to treat you between now and when I start back to school, right?” she asked Cole, wanting to be sure she hadn’t completely misread the fact that he’d tipped her the five hundred and based his proposal off that.
“I’d like you to work with me up until I leave for spring training,” he clarified, “even if you can’t work with me as often after mid-January. And I’ll pay you fifteen hundred per session.”
Her breath seized in her chest. Per session? He didn’t understand how much rehab this was going to entail.
“But I’ll want to work with you almost every day, at least initially,” she explained.
“I understand that.”
Her palms grew damp. “B-but that’ll be at least thirty sessions between now and February. Maybe even as many as fifty.”
“I imagine so.”
/> “It’ll likely end up costing you well over fifty thousand dollars at that rate of pay,” she said. Her eyes widened to try and impress the significance of this on him.
He shrugged, making a face as his right shoulder raised and lowered. “Worth every penny if it gets me healthy.”
Holy Mary, Mother of God.
Everly’s head spun. She tried very hard to cling to the reasons not to do this. She’d have a heck of a time explaining this income to the IRS. If anything went wrong, she could ruin the career of one of the hottest players in Major League Baseball. Even if everything went well, she’d receive no professional credit to aid her in her career goals.
Looking from Cole to Wyatt, she took a deep breath and let it out.
“All right,” she said. “If it helps one of my favorite people and one of my favorite team’s players, I’m willing to give it my best.”
Chapter 6
Cole Parker was a godsend. Either that, or he was batshit crazy.
Everly was still trying to process what had happened that evening as she got behind the wheel of Champ, her ten-year-old Kia Rio. The car had earned its nickname after surviving a near sandwiching between two tractor-trailers on I-75/85 a few years before. Since then, Everly tried to stick to driving on back roads whenever she had to cross the city.
She now cranked up the heat, turned on the radio, and headed on those back roads along the familiar path to her grandpa’s house off Tift Avenue. Champ operated largely on auto pilot as Everly pondered her recent windfall.
Fifty thousand dollars or more in two months or less. Hot damn.
Tears pricked her eyes when she fully realized what this meant. She’d be able to pay Jonette, the nurse who treated her grandfather whenever Everly could afford it, enough money to work with him for at least six months. She could pay his specialist for the extra services recommended to treat his respiratory condition. She could pay their property taxes and possibly have room left over to pay her annual health insurance premium for next year.
She was afraid to believe it. The old phrase, “Too good to be true,” ran like a mantra through her head. But Dr. Wyatt Parker hadn’t ever let her down. Since he was involved in this arrangement, she allowed herself to feel optimistic for a change.
Even though it was after one in the morning, her grandpa had left the porch light on for her. It greeted her as she pulled into the driveway running alongside the 1920’s bungalow her grandpa had lived in from the time he married her grandma. Since the age of fifteen, Everly had lived there, too. It had been just the two of them for about seven years now.
She cut the ignition and listened to the familiar rattle that resulted as the engine died. Maybe she’d use some of her coming fortune to get a tune-up, she mused. Then she grabbed her purse and opened her car door to the biting cold.
As she approached the side door leading into the house from the driveway, she noticed flickering lights inside. She frowned, realizing her grandpa was up and watching television. Sure enough, when she unlocked and opened the door, she spotted him in the family room sitting in his favorite recliner. His silver hair stood up in tufts on his head, telling her he’d tried to sleep. Pillow lines vied for attention alongside silver stubble and the host of wrinkles lining his thin, pale face. But the blue-green eyes trained on the television were as bright and sharp as a man’s half his age. Jacob Wallace wasn’t a man to let things get him down. Everly drew a lot of strength from his example.
“Pee Paw,” she chided, stepping inside and locking the door behind her. “You should be in bed.”
He waved a hand at that. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said in a voice roughened by age and an ongoing battle with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. “You had me worried, my girl.”
She stopped at his side and bent down to kiss his cheek, taking care not to jar the plastic nasal cannula supplying him with oxygen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to call and wake you.” She brushed the lapel of his blue fleece bathrobe and gave him a pointed look. “This is supposed to be your Christmas gift.”
“Sho’ ‘nuf.”
Smiling over the challenging twinkle in his eye, she said, “Well, I’m glad you like it. It’s going to drop below freezing again tonight and I don’t want you turning into a Pee-Pawpsicle.”
He chuckled. “So, you gonna tell me why you’re so late?”
“I’m bursting to tell you,” she said with a wide grin. She tossed her purse on the coffee table and sat on the couch, picking up the remote to mute the television.
“Hey, that’s Law ’n Order you’re mutin’ there. A marathon.”
“Pee Paw, I met Cole Parker today.”
His lower jaw loosened and his eyes widened. “The Cole Parker?”
“Yes,” she said, clapping her hands together and laughing over his reaction. They were both avid Atlanta fans. “And there’s more. He’s going to pay me to work with him on rehabbing an injury he’s been nursing for a few weeks. He’s going to pay me ridiculously well.”
She’d had to argue with Cole for ten minutes to get him to agree to let her tell her grandpa about their arrangement. Only when she pointed out that her grandpa was in poor health and needed to know where she was and how to reach her did he finally agree. The fact that she lived with her grandpa and couldn’t really keep secrets from him weighed in that decision, too.
“What kinda injury?” he asked, his excitement fading into concern. “I ain’t hearda no injury.”
She normally would have corrected his poor grammar, but was too amped up to bother. “And you won’t hear about it. You can’t tell anyone about this, Pee Paw. The whole reason Cole wants to work with me is because I can do this without it ending up as tomorrow morning’s SportsCenter lead story. Do you understand?”
He shook his head. “Why ain’t he gettin’ treatment from one of them fancy team doctors? Are you sho’ he ain’t tryin’ some funny business here?”
The idea of Cole going through all of this trouble just to mess with her had her laughing again. “No, Pee Paw…no funny business. Wyatt Parker’s his older brother.”
“No shit?”
“Pee Paw,” she chastised, though she could hardly blame him for swearing.
“Doc’s related to Cole Parker?”
“Yep. I had no idea.”
“With all that Doc has done for you ‘n me, I can see why you’d feel obliged to help his brother out.”
He was right. She would have done just about anything for Wyatt after all the help he’d offered her.
“Somethin’ this big, you’d better start at the top, my girl.”
She did, walking him through her evening, much as she had done many other nights. She didn’t leave out her reaction to seeing Cole for the first time. Her grandpa already knew of her less-than-healthy crush on the young pitcher. Then she explained about Cole’s shoulder and why he wanted to work with her in lieu of a doctor or other type of certified specialist.
When she was done, he shook his head again. “Well, I’ll be. This here’s an opportunity of a lifetime.”
“I know!” Everly fell back against the sofa cushions and ran her hands along her hair as she looked up at the ceiling. “I’ll be able to pay Jonette for six months in advance and cover the property taxes before they’re even due, and—”
“Everly.”
She looked back at her grandpa. He didn’t often use her name.
“I’m sorry you bear the burden of seein’ to our needs,” he said, reaching across the short distance between the recliner and the sofa arm so he could capture the hand that rested there. “I’d have you enjoy this time, not stressin’ about makin’ ends meet. You’ve done that long enough.”
For the second time that night, tears burned her eyes. She forced them back. She hadn’t had any choice but to make sure their needs were met. She still didn’t.
“Sure, Pee Paw,” she responded, not wanting him upset.
He patted her hand one last time and shifted his gaze back to the televis
ion. When he cleared his throat, she knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say next.
“I got a note from your daddy,” he said. “He’s still umpin’ somewhere in Venezuela.”
Everly’s stomach pitched and she tuned out her grandpa’s words as he shared the rest of her father’s e-mail, not wanting to take her bitterness out on him. Mason Wallace was her grandpa’s son just as much as he was her father. The difference was that her grandpa had forgiven her father for leaving his family over eight years ago. She hadn’t.
She paid enough attention to what her grandpa said that she knew when he’d wrapped up his synopsis. Then she picked up the remote and unmuted Law and Order.
“Don’t stay up too late, Pee Paw,” she said, rising and giving him a hug.
Neither of them mentioned her lack of response regarding her father’s message. They both understood where they each fell on that line.
“I know, my girl. Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 7
The pain in his shoulder woke Cole on Saturday morning. Since he’d gotten less than six hours of sleep, he tried downing some ibuprofen and going back to sleep.
No go.
Cursing, he tossed his sheet and comforter aside and trudged into the bathroom. Stopping in front of a panel installed in the wall, he pressed the touch screen and set the coffee brewing in the kitchen. Then he turned on the shower to begin Phase One of waking up.
When he couldn’t raise his right arm to shampoo his hair without his shoulder screaming with pain, he cursed again. By the time he’d finished toweling off, he half-expected his mother to call and berate him for all of the profanity. She was eerie like that.
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