Page 113 of Fire

Totally normal.

“You okay?” Hendrix asks as we pull up to the clinic. We decided to rent a car for the week, even though we’ve left it in the hotel parking lot for the majority of the time. But it has its advantages.

And this is definitely one of those.

Hendrix doesn’t get recognized often. If he does, it’s usually more of a double-take, like people are trying to figure out where to place him. It’s not until we’re in places like restaurants or in a crowd that they really start to make the connection.

An Uber is a risk neither of us wants to take right now.

With the long list of bands waiting for a decision, he doesn’t want it getting out that there might be an issue with his ability to perform.

“What? Yeah.” I nod, probably with a bit too much enthusiasm.

Seattle is dreary today. Kind of like my mood. The clouds are gray, and the temperature is unseasonably cool. I pull mycardigan a little closer as we step out of the car and head to the clinic.

It’s an impressive building, sleek and modern, with floor-to-ceiling mirrored windows. Eric meets us at the entrance and quickly lets us in with a wide smile and a handshake for Hendrix. Eric is completely unfazed by his celebrity status, which immediately puts him at ease.

When he turns and pulls me into a full bear hug, even lifting me off the ground, that probably causes his blood pressure to spike a little.

“Valentine!” He finally releases me and steps back. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, Lin.” I glance around the lobby and give an approving nod. “This place is pretty fancy. Are you going to offer me a cucumber water or maybe a gold watch while I wait?”

It’s more than fancy. If I had walked in here off the street, I wouldn’t have guessed this is a doctor’s office. There aren’t any rows of tacky upholstered chairs or harsh lighting. Instead, it feels more like a spa with a small check-in desk, expensive leather sofas, and fresh flowers and plants decorating the space.

He chuckles, and the sound instantly takes me back to our residency days. Endless shifts, grumpy attending physicians, and bonding over pizza at two in the morning. He gave me the support Tanner should have during those stressful years. “Gold watches come later. I can offer you an overpriced bottle of water and my charming personality, though.”

I shrug. “I guess that’ll have to do.”

He gives us a quick tour of the facility. It has everything from physical therapy to a full lab that includes X-rays, a CT scanner, and more.

“This is amazing, Eric.”

“You don’t think I’m a sellout?” he asks, a crease forming between his brows.

“What? Why?”

“I remember you and Tanner arguing about what kind of practice you wanted to open. He wanted something like this, and you wanted?—”

“A clinic that would be accessible to low-income families. I remember. We settled for something in the middle.” Or rather, his parents did.Good for optics, I remember his father saying. Just like me, apparently. “But that has nothing to do with your career. And whether or not I would choose this path doesn’t diminish its success, Eric. This is incredible. I bet you get a ton of professional athletes coming through here.”

He grins, shoving his hands in his pockets as Hendrix watches our exchange. “Best part of my job.”

“You’re only saying that because you’ve never worked with a rock star,” I tease as he shows us into an exam room. It’s just as nice as the lobby, with soft lighting and upscale furniture designed to put patients at ease.

“Can’t say that I have.” He winks over his shoulder. “Why don’t you both take a seat, and we can get started.”

Hendrix looks a little nervous until I take his hand and settle beside him on the leather sofa.

Eric fits his wiry frame into a chair opposite us, an iPad in his lap. He’s dressed more casually than I imagine he usually is for the office, in jeans and a zip-up cardigan. He’s always balanced the preppy, cool look well.

“For transparency, I do have a nurse here who will be coming in later to draw labs if necessary. All my employees sign an NDA since we work with high-profile clients. Now…” He exhales and smiles. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

And he does. Hendrix explains when he first noticed it, the subtle change in how his right hand behaved when he played, how it started to happen more often, and how it’s worsened since he began traveling with the band.

With each question Eric asks and Hendrix’s response, I feel a tight band forming around my chest.

When I look at Eric, however, he’s the epitome of calm. Nothing but tranquil waters painted across his serene face. I try to emulate his facade and not jump to conclusions.