Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Whitley’s office was on Park only a few blocks from the MET. Actually, it was surprisingly close to Penn’s apartment. I was glad that he was working, so I wouldn’t be tempted to go by and see him. He was probably the last person I should tell about any of this. He’d think I was insane to even want children with Camden Percy especially after how he’d behaved in Puerto Rico. But he didn’t know the circumstances of our arrangement, and I didn’t particularly want to inform him. In all this time, I hadn’t told anyone but Lark.
My phone buzzed as I entered the building and headed to the set of elevators. I glanced down at the name and sighed. Camden. Again. He’d been calling steadily all week. Never leaving a voicemail. Never sending me a text. How was I supposed to judge whether or not to call him back when he didn’t let me know why he kept bothering me?
Despite present circumstances, I was still mad at him for what he’d done in Puerto Rico. I didn’t want to talk to him. I wondered how many days he’d call before he got fed up with me for not answering and came to find me. Maybe I’d talk to him if he did that.
I rode the elevator to the fifth floor and entered into a well-lit reception.
A woman in scrubs looked up at me with a smile. “Hello. Welcome to The Plastic Surgery Institute. How can I help you?”
“Hi. I’m Katherine Van Pelt. I have an appointment with Whitley.”
“Ah, yes, you’re her four thirty. Here, fill out this paperwork and sign the release. Dr. Bowen will be right with you.”
Dr. Bowen, right. Not just my crazy friend Whit.
I took the paperwork from the receptionist and dutifully filled it out. Though I left plenty of it blank, considering why I was really here was a secret, even from the doctor.
My wait was short. In a couple of minutes, Whitley appeared in the doorway with a smile on her face. Her caramel-colored hair had strands of blonde through it now. I swore this girl changed her hair color more than anyone else I’d ever met in my life.
“Hey, Whit,” I said, coming to my feet.
“It’s about time.” Whit nodded her head to the back for me to follow her, which I did. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Always. Oh, want to hear my latest story?” Whitley asked, suggestively raising her eyebrows up and down.
“God, do I?”
“It’s tame! Promise.”
“Tame? Like the woman who picked you up for a threesome with her husband or like the guy who followed you around for a few weeks, leaving presents at your work and home?”
“Hey, I almost had to get a restraining order for that guy.”
“These are your levels of crazy—stalker or threesome.”
Whitley shrugged. “That seems reasonable. This isn’t that though.”
“Well, let’s hear it,” I said.
She stopped me at a station. She used a thermometer to get my temperature, checked my pulse, and then gestured to the scale. “Let’s get your weight.”. I gulped and stepped on the scale. She looked down at the number on the scale and frowned. She jotted the number down without comment. “Let’s move into a room.”
I followed her inside a consultation room and took a seat in the large black chair that dominated the center of the room. Whitley was making notes in an iPad. She looked back up at me.
“Okay, so…” Whitley said, biting her lip. “Robert and I are talking again.”
“What?” I asked in surprise. That was the last thing I’d expected. “But you said in Puerto Rico that he liked you more than you liked him.”
“Yeah. I mean… we talked it out when I got back. I think maybe I overreacted.”
My eyes bulged. “You are the definition of overreaction, Whit. And trust me, this is coming from someone who constantly overreacts. But you don’t say those things about a guy that you want to get back together with.”
“I don’t know. He treats me right. I’m not sure I gave him a real chance.”
“But I thought you and Gavin…” I trailed off at the horror on her face.
“What makes you think that?” she stammered out.
“Uh, the fact that you two were all over each other on New Year’s?”
“We’re always like that. It’s not… anything. He’s just”—she shrugged—“Gavin.”
“Uh-huh,” I said in disbelief. “And he’s friends with Robert.”
“So?”
“So, he’ll back off if you start dating Robert again because he’s a good guy.”
“Gavin King?” she asked with a laugh. “A good guy?”
I could see it in her eyes in that moment. She and Gavin had definitely hooked up. It had spooked her. Now, she was trying to distance herself from what had happened. Classic Whitley.
“Okay, Whit. If you say so.”
I let the matter drop when she turned back to her iPad.