Road to Recovery

by Ann, Natalie

  Of course, if he was honest with himself, it rarely happened. Girls had been throwing themselves at him since high school. At six foot three with golden boy looks, having been a jock and a brain combined, it seemed everyone wanted a piece of him then.

  College proved to be even more of the same. Toss in the fact that he came from old money, and every girl eyed him as the next big catch. He would have been stupid not to take what they were offering back then.

  But now, at age thirty-four, it was getting old. He would like to say he was more discriminating at what offers he took. Or at the very least tried to stay discreet about it. He didn’t have a new woman every week or even every month, but he never had any serious relationships either. Nor did he lack female company when he wanted or needed it.

  Lucas watched Brooke walk out the doors of the gym when his own treadmill beeped, ending his workout. Grabbing his gear, he headed for a quick shower and change, then decided he would run back to his office and grab a few files for a bit of work this weekend.

  Distracted

  Brooklyn, a.k.a. Brooke, A. Malone, age twenty-eight. Held a degree in Human Resources and MBA from Penn State. Five years of experience working her way up the chain of various HR positions for a large construction/development firm. Last position held as Corporate Compliance Director. Lucas finished scanning the information he was able to obtain on Brooke.

  He thought that was a lot of responsibility for someone her age. Then again, he remembered how well she handled Mike. Straightforward, direct and to the point, yet polite all the same. Professional was the first thing that came to mind. Even in the unprofessional environment of the hospital gym.

  What surprised Lucas was the lapse between her last job and her current job with the hospital. Almost nine months. Although there was nothing in the file to indicate there were any problems from her references. Maybe she was burned out and needed some time off.

  He was feeling a bit guilty for obtaining the information, even though it was within his right to look it over. So he set it aside and went back to the case files on his desk. He had a lot to do and not a lot of time to prepare. Knowing that he would find out more about her in time, he pushed Brooke to the back of his mind and returned to the cases in front of him.

  Ten minutes later, his mind was right back on Brooke. He couldn’t figure out what it was about her. He told himself it was only curiosity since he would be working closely with her. She looked all serious and methodical throughout her workout. Almost like she was ticking things off a mental checklist, moving efficiently from one machine to the next without breaking stride.

  He could see she wasn’t just going through the motions either, but actually worked out. She was sweating and her breath labored as she went through her reps, very little pausing in between.

  He thought he caught her wincing a few times, but as quickly as he saw it, it was gone. Could’ve been pushing herself too hard. There was no denying she seemed stiff when she got off the elliptical, she actually stopped and held the arm rails to steady herself before she reached down for her bag.

  He couldn’t help but admire someone who put that kind of effort into working out, rather than just making an appearance as they pranced around the gym pretending to do something.

  She was different. Most of the women in the work gym were either trying to land their future husband, or overweight and trying to get in shape—in order to land their future husband. She didn’t seem to fall into either of those categories. She didn’t watch herself in the mirrors, didn’t fix her hair or glance around checking to see if anyone watched her. And she definitely wasn’t out of shape.

  Her lean calf muscles were visible below the bottom of her black yoga pants. Though her legs were mainly covered up, Lucas could see the muscles in her thighs flex while she rode the elliptical bike. Too bad she had on a long baggy shirt that covered her to mid-thigh, preventing him from seeing much more. He had a feeling the rest of her was as toned as her calves and thighs. Undeniably, she had a body that was used to physical activity.

  His phone buzzed, pulling him away from thoughts of Brooke and pushing him back to the work at hand.

  ***

  Brooke turned the hot water on full blast. The master bath with the spa tub and multiple jets was what sold Brooke on the townhouse. She wished she had a little bit more space, but since she lived alone, it would do. She really didn’t entertain much anyway, but she would have preferred a bigger second bedroom that she could have converted to a home gym and office combo. As it was, she barely fit her desk and daybed in the room, thanks to the built-in shelving unit.

  Luckily she had a full gym at her disposal at work. That did make things convenient, although she preferred working out alone. If things got too crowded she could always try going in the mornings before work.

  Once the tub was filled, Brooke shut off the water and turned on the jets. She climbed in slowly, the steam rising, then jerked back when she lowered herself, took a deep breath and inched down further. She fought her way through the heat, knew she needed it to soothe her sore and overworked muscles. Better to be uncomfortable now than later.

  She really hoped she could get through the night without pain medicine. Hating the way the pills made her feel and terrified of getting addicted to them, she had finally figured out a routine that helped get through most of the pain, and only gave into the urge for medicated relief when she didn’t have to work the next day. Even then, it was less frequent.

  Looking down through the water, she traced the scar on her thigh, still red and raw looking. She wasn’t a vain person at all, but the sight of that scar less than a year old made her cringe. Thankfully she couldn’t see the one on her lower back. She knew it was there, not as big in size, but a bigger reminder of how lucky she was.

  And for every bit of pain she felt right now, she was thankful that she was able to feel the pain to begin with—and to walk. Even with the pain, walking was better than the months in a wheelchair, wondering. Wondering, if she would ever be the same again.

  She wasn’t used to being dependent on anyone. Those first few months after the accident she had no choice. Four surgeries, two each on her leg and back, and the doctors finally declared her put back together enough to move forward with her recovery. Every bit of pain she felt was a reminder that she would be able to walk again. If she felt pain, then she could move.

  Remembering those first few weeks of physical therapy made Brooke realize how far she had come. And how fast. Faster than anyone had thought she could. She’d been so determined to get back to her life. She’d wanted to move on.

  And then she wanted to move away. Away from the memories and from her hovering and extremely overbearing parents. They weren’t happy with her decision to move over three hours away, but they had little choice in the matter.

  She was an adult. She was capable of taking care of herself. She’d had a good job—had, she reminded herself. But she knew she could find another one. She had always been smart with finances, so there was money put away. Enough to get by for a long time, if need be. She knew her parents would help, but she refused to consider that an option.

  Thankfully that never became a necessity. Brooke was offered this job almost immediately and it seemed logical to accept. It was far enough away that her parents couldn’t show up during the week for the heck of it, but not so far that they couldn’t visit for the weekend.

  The distraction of the bad memories kept Brooke in the tub longer than normal. Realizing that the water had started to turn cold, she pulled herself out of the tub slowly. Once dried off and changed into shorts and a shirt, she wandered into the kitchen trying to decide on dinner.

  After looking around, she realized she was too lazy to cook. So she grabbed a bowl from one cabinet and a box of cereal from another.

  While she ate her cereal, she pulled out a pad and pencil from the neat organizer hanging on the wall and started to make a list of everything she needed to do this weekend. She had never bee
n able to get away from household lists on paper. It seemed like too much effort to pull out her phone or tablet and put everything on some device. She’d tried but soon tired of having to power it back up to see what else was on the list. Much easier and faster to write it down and leave it on the kitchen table.

  Work was another matter, though. Files full of lists of projects and goals filled every electronic device she owned. All linked together so she could access it when she needed.

  Finished with her list, she was content she remembered everything. Her simple dinner eaten, she put her bowl in the dishwasher, shut the kitchen light off and went out to watch some TV while she reviewed some files for work. Monday would be here soon enough and there was still so much more she needed to figure out.

  ***

  Reaching behind her back, Brooke pulled up the zipper on her pale mint green dress, then turned her head to glance at herself from the back in the mirror to make sure the slim ivory belt wasn’t twisted. Satisfied everything was the way it belonged, she fastened her belt and looked at herself in the mirror from the front.

  The minute she saw this dress in the store window of the boutique she knew she had to have it. She had a weakness for pretty girly clothes. Girly, classic clothes. Nothing frilly. But soft and feminine just the same. She loved shopping and loved clothes and shoes. Then again, what girl didn’t?

  She wore her fair share of black or brown, but she always tried for a splash of color. She wasn’t big on accessories, too much time and effort to make it all match and look just right. Putting an outfit together, how hard was that really? A bottom and a top, she could handle, and handle well. But ask her to start adding jewelry and scarves and she was lost. Simple and efficient, and she was done.

  She grabbed her lightweight ivory cardigan from the chair to ward off the brisk March morning air. Then she walked into the closet and pulled her flesh-toned heels off the meticulously organized shoe racks. Arms filled with her sweater and shoes, she walked to the front door and set her shoes on the floor to slip on before she left, then neatly laid her sweater across her briefcase on the bench.

  On her way to the kitchen to put her lunch together, she heard her phone beep and stepped over to grab it from her purse. Glancing down she saw her mother’s text. Morning, dear. Are you up?

  After a five-second internal debate, Brooke called her. If she didn’t respond now, her mother would call her at work in a few hours. Better to get it done and over with at home, because she was pretty sure she was about to get another lecture.

  “Good morning, Mother. Everything OK? It’s a bit early for you to be texting me,” she said.

  “Yes, dear, I’m fine. I haven’t heard from you in a few days and figured I would have a better chance to chat with you if I caught you before work. How is everything going with your new job?” Paula Malone asked, working her way through what Brooke thought of as her mother’s ice breaking topics.

  “Good. Matter of fact I’m trying to get an early start on the morning. I spent time working this weekend and am eager to get in today,” she replied.

  “Brooklyn, dear, you should be out having fun on the weekends, not working.” Her mother ignored her sigh and continued. “But I won’t keep you too long. I wanted to check in on you, see how you were doing with your physical therapy. Surely you have gotten a new doctor to work with by now?”

  Brooke sighed louder this time. And there was the main reason for the text this morning. “No, Mother. I haven’t had time yet, but it’s on my list of things to do. I’m fine. I’ve been doing my own rehab in the hospital gym the last few weeks. I worked with my old doctors enough in the last few months. I know what I’m doing by now.”

  Paula was not someone to be put off. When she had an opinion, she made sure everyone around her heard and agreed. And if they didn’t, she would keep hounding and nagging until you threw your hands up and gave in. “I’m sure you do. But just in case, you need to have someone to follow up with. The last thing you need is to injure yourself. It’s only been a few months since your last surgery. The doctors told you it would be a good year before you were back to yourself. Maybe I’ll ask your father to look into some local doctors for you.” She slipped in, “How does that sound?”

  Brooke groaned. True to form, her mother threw the father card out there. No one ever went against Richard Malone’s wishes.

  Peeking at her slim gold watch, she interrupted her mother. “You’re right, Mother. I’ll look into it this week, I promise. Right now I really need to go. I’ll talk to you later in the week.”

  “OK, dear. If I don’t hear from you by Friday, I will call back. I expect you to tell me you have an appointment scheduled,” she chided.

  Brooke hoped her voice didn’t relay the sound of her teeth grinding. “I’ll talk to you later,” she repeated.

  “You know we only want what is best for you,” Paula reminded her daughter, ignoring the attempts Brooke made to end the call until she was good and ready. When met with Brooke’s silence, Paula finally added, “Bye, Brooklyn.”

  Brooke ended the call, shoved her phone back in her purse, slipped her heels on, grabbed her briefcase and sweater, then rushed out the door.

  Thankfully the ride in was quiet and she still managed to beat the morning traffic. After parking her car, she reached over to grab her briefcase and realized she never made a lunch. Since she knew she would need an extra dose of caffeine after her mother’s call, she decided she would run to the hospital cafeteria and grab something to put away for later, along with an extra-large coffee.

  ***

  Lucas was reading an email on his phone when the elevator doors opened. He lifted his eyes, stepped in, went to push the button for his floor, and saw another hand beat him to it. Stepping to the back of the elevator, he resumed reading his email.

  The doors opened again on the next floor, more people piled in, and he felt a nudge on his briefcase that was draped on his shoulder. Reaching up to secure it more firmly in place, he made eye contact with the source of the nudge. Whiskey-colored eyes with flecks of gold met his pale blue ones.

  “Sorry about that,” she said politely.

  “No problem,” he replied, and went back to his email. Then quickly turned his head back around to her face. He ran his eyes from the top of her head down to her incredibly sexy heels. Heels, almost the same color as her legs, giving the illusion of height, even though she was easily six inches shorter than him standing in them.

  It couldn’t be. He was having a hard time believing his eyes. This couldn’t be the same Brooke from the gym on Friday. But it was. The same face, the same eyes, hair, which was now flowing in waves down her back, rather than twisted up on top of her head.

  He realized she was speaking to him, and, feeling kind of dumb, he asked, “What?”

  She looked around, leaned in, and lowered her voice. “I said, do I have something on my face? You’re staring.”

  Where his normal cool confidence had just gone was beyond him. He felt as if he had been smacked upside the head. He didn’t know why he only thought she was pretty when he first noticed her in the gym. She was more than pretty—she was stunning. It was the eyes. Never breaking contact from his own, sending heat right to his core. Did his stomach just flip over? What the heck was that he felt? It was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.

  Her eyes might have been looking at him casually, but it didn’t feel casual to him at all. It was like she was seeing right through him. And right now she was most likely seeing some idiot pervert who couldn’t even answer a simple question. Head out of your ass, man, he thought to himself.

  “Sorry. No. Nothing on your face,” he answered with a corner of his mouth lifting. “At least nothing that doesn’t already belong there.” She had sharp cheekbones accented by a cute button nose. Those whiskey-colored eyes were almond shaped and wide, contrasting to her face, yet the combination of big eyes and sharp cheekbones worked, and worked well.

  Continuing to watch
those big eyes, he could almost see the wheels turning in her head, trying to figure out how to react. A corner of her mouth quirked up, but before it could completely reach her eyes, the elevator doors opened.

  Wrapping both hands around her coffee and the small brown bag she carried, she said, “This is my stop.” Then walked off and turned to the right toward her office.

  Lucas stepped off and turned left after her departure. He couldn’t believe that happened. Nothing like acting like a love-struck teenager. Could it be any more embarrassing? Thankfully she didn’t know who he was. Next time he saw her, he would be more prepared. Hopefully he wouldn’t be distracted by her looks again.

  Practical

  The next day the receptionist interrupted Brooke. “There is a Cori here to see you. She said she met you in the gym on Friday? Do you have time for her?”

  Startled out of her thoughts, Brooke absently replied, “Sure, send her in, please.”

  A minute later Cori bounced in, wearing bright pink scrubs. The squeaking from the rubber soles of her shoes stopped when she stepped onto the carpet in Brooke’s office. “Hiya, hope it was okay to stop in without warning? I was up here filling out some papers in payroll and thought I would say hi. And can I say wow. You look different. If I didn’t know I was actually walking into your office I would have never thought you were the same person from the gym.”

  Blinking at the hurried mouthful of words that came out of Cori’s mouth, Brooke waved her arm toward the seat in front of her desk as she reached across to turn off her iPod. “No, no problem at all. Glad for the interruption. Have a seat if you have a minute,” Brooke offered politely.

  Cori turned her head, looked around and sat down. “Nice office. A bit small, but private. You get to listen to music in here if you want? Pretty cool! It would be nice to listen to music while I worked, would help get through the day. Or maybe just drown out the patients, eh?” She laughed and shook her head. “Anyway, I came by to see if you were going to be in the gym this week. I didn’t see you yesterday and was looking forward to the entertainment again. By the way, Dr. Wonderful was there casually looking around the gym yesterday. My bet was he was looking for you,” she said with a smirk.