Page 2

Chapter two

Rebecca

I sink into the couch in the living room of my new apartment, exhausted.

Well, that might be the understatement of the year for how I feel right now.

Groaning, I put my feet up on the plastic storage bin I’ve been using as a coffee table for the last few days and lean my head against the back of the couch, closing my eyes.

I can’t believe I’m this tired and I haven’t even seen any players.

The last few days have been filled with paperwork, meetings with different staff members and with Dr. Walt, trying to memorize all I could about the team, and learning to navigate a new environment—don’t ask me how many times I’ve gotten lost.

Dr. Montgomery left good notes about the players she’d been seeing, and I’m confident that with Dr. Walt’s help, I can figure it all out.

I probably should have gone to the game tonight to get a better feel for the team and players, but I’m so worn out and could tell I was going to crash.

Besides, there’s another home game in two days I can go to.

The ringing of my phone has me opening my eyes and sitting up. I snatch it off the cushion next to me, smiling when I see who is calling.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, kiddo.” It doesn’t matter that I’m in my mid-thirties and no longer a kid, he still calls me kiddo . “How’s your first week going? Enjoying it?”

I contemplate his question for a second. “It’s good. A lot. A bit overwhelming. But I’m sure it’ll get better. ”

“I imagine working with athletes is a hell of a lot different from private practice.”

“Way different, but I think I’m going to enjoy it. It’ll be a welcome change of pace. How are things with you?”

“Things are pretty good. Jill says hi and she misses you.” He mutters something I can’t hear to my stepmom before coming back to the phone. “She’s getting ready to go play bingo at the community center. Tried to get me to come with her. Like usual.”

I chuckle. “You should go. It might be fun.”

“Nah, not my thing. The real reason I’m calling,” he starts, and I hold my breath. “Do you know anything about this orthopedic pillow? It got delivered yesterday. This very expensive orthopedic pillow.”

I shrug my shoulders, even though he can’t see me. “You said your neck was bothering you when we talked a few weeks ago.”

“And the massage gun that also got delivered?”

“I’ve seen the way you sit when you drive, with your shoulders all hunched over. And you were saying your leg was tight.”

“Rebecca.”

“Dad.”

“My neck hurt because I slept wrong. I don’t need a new pillow. I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t know if either item was necessary.”

“Let me take care of you. It’s the least I can do after everything.”

He blows out a breath. “Rebecca–Becca, I love you. I love that you want to take care of me like this. But even though I might be close to seventy, I can still take care of myself.”

I suck in a breath, running a hand down my face. “I know, but I feel guilty. I’m so far away and can’t help you, and the car accident. . .”

“Becca, the car accident was almost twenty years ago and is not the cause of my current aches and pains. And even if it was, it was not your fault.”

“But—“

“How about I promise to tell you if there’s something you can help me with, otherwise know I’ve got it handled? ”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now we’ve solved that, I’ll let you go. Glad you’re having a good first week. Talk soon?”

“Yep. Love you. Bye, Dad.”

“Love you.”

I set the phone on the couch and stretch my arms over my head. Peaches, my ginger cat, jumps up and sits next to me, all but glaring at me.

“I can take the hint, Peach. Time for dinner.” I pet her before standing up and making my way over to the kitchen, pausing to connect my phone to my Bluetooth speaker and turn on my current music obsession—Billy Joel.

I crank the volume up since I’m pretty sure the apartment next to me is empty—there’s never been any signs of life the past week—and sing along to the music.

Once Peaches is happily feasting on her food, I set about figuring out what to make myself.

I finally decide on a can of chicken noodle soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

Not the healthiest, but I don’t have the energy to make anything else.

I had a big salad at lunch, so it’s not like I didn’t have any vegetables today.

I make a mental note to find some crock pot recipes so I can come home and have dinner waiting for me.

Especially if today is any indication of how busy I’ll be in the future.

“Hey,” a blonde woman who appears to be about my age says, coming up to me in the staff kitchen the next morning. “Dr. Jansen, Rebecca, right? The new PT?”

“Guilty,” I say before taking a sip of water from my water bottle.

“I’m Sutton St. James.” She puts her hand out, and I shake it. “We haven’t met yet. I’m the head of the Public Relations and Marketing Department.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. St. James.”

She grabs a Styrofoam cup and pours herself a coffee. “Just Sutton. We’re not big on formality here. How are things going? The guys aren’t giving you a hard time, are they?”

“It’s only my first week, but it’s going well so far.”

She leans a hip against the counter. “Don’t let them fool you, they’re all softies at heart.” I raise an eyebrow but remain silent. “If the guys give you any trouble, let me know, and I’ll take care of it.”

I chuckle. “Thanks?”

She grins at me before taking a sip of her coffee, visibly blanching as she swallows. “Gosh, I forgot how terrible this stuff is.”

She walks over to the sink and dumps her drink down the drain. I take another sip of my water, wondering whether this conversation is over and I should leave the kitchen or if she’s going to say something else.

“I need caffeine, and this isn’t drinkable. Want to go on a coffee run with me?” she asks, turning to face me.

“Ummm . . .” I hesitate, unsure of what to say.

I don’t have anything to do right now or in the next hour, but it is still the middle of the workday. At my old job, unless it was lunch or an emergency, we were expected to be at the office and available during working hours even if we had no scheduled patients.

“It’s just down the street. We can walk there and back in thirty.

You’ll find everyone around here is pretty lax with your coming and going.

We all end up working way longer than forty hours a week anyway, even with the occasional mid-morning coffee run and long lunch.

” She pauses, studying me. “As long as you don’t have any appointments or meetings? ”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“It’s settled. We’re going for coffee. Meet you downstairs in ten? I have to grab my purse.”

What the heck. She seems nice, and I don’t have any friends here.

Or in general, really. Making friends as an adult is hard, so I’ve gotten used to being alone.

At my last job, there were a few people, acquaintances really, who I’d chat with in the break room, but that was the extent of it.

Probably my fault since I never went to any of their Friday happy hours or karaoke nights.

This feels like the perfect opportunity to change that.

To make friends. Or at least try to. And it would be nice to at least have someone to get coffee or lunch with.

“Sure, okay,” I tell her .

A few minutes later, I’m stepping off the elevator into the lobby as one of the players comes strolling in holding hands with a woman.

“Hey, Doc,” he greets me.

“Dr. Jansen.” The correction comes out before I can stop myself. Fuck. Oh well.

He blinks a couple of times before continuing, “Right, Dr. Jansen.” He clears his throat. “Perfect timing.”

“Hi.” Shit, what’s his name? I need to make flashcards to learn who is who. “Something I can do for you?”

“Hunter. Hunter Rhodes,” he says pointing to himself.

“Right, sorry, I’m still trying to remember names and faces.”

He waves away my apology. “I want you to meet my wife, Madison. Sweets, this is Dr. Jansen, our new physical therapist.” He gestures to the woman at his side.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Rhodes.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but the elevator dings, and Sutton steps out. Her face lights up when she sees the couple in front of me.

“Hey, Mads.” She greets Mrs. Rhodes with a hug, like they’re best friends. And maybe they are. “So you met our new physical therapist.”

Mrs. Rhodes grins at me before addressing Sutton. “I did.” She turns back to me. “And it’s Madison. Or Mads is fine too.”

I nod, although it feels weird to call her by her first name.

Her husband could be a patient of mine, and I always address my patients and their spouses, partners, or whoever they come with, formally.

Some doctors are more relaxed, but I like the formality; it keeps everything professional and at arm’s length.

“We should plan a girls’ night. Introduce Rebecca to everyone,” Sutton says.

I clear my throat, shoving my hands into the pockets of my scrubs. “That’s really nice of you, but unnecessary.”

I’m not sure who everyone is, but if she’s talking about the players’ wives or girlfriends, it’s probably better if I don’t cross the line and become friends with them.

Even though Sutton has. The players, after all, will probably be my patients at some point.

In private practice, I’d never make friends with my patients.

Be friendly, yes, of course. Hang out with them outside of the office?

Nope. Too much of a gray area, ethically.

“Of course it’s necessary. You’re part of the family now,” Sutton says.

I stare at her, unsure of how to answer that. Part of the family? She must mean the Storm family. Dr. Montgomery told me this team was close, but I figured she meant the players and their families.

“We can talk about it another time once you’re settled, Dr. Jansen,” Madison says, giving me a small smile. “We should probably get going if we want to have time for lunch with Dad before the team meeting,” she says, tugging on Rhodes’s hand.

“Right,” he says.

“It was nice to meet you,” I tell her, and I genuinely mean it. It’s nice to be so welcomed by everyone.

We say our goodbyes and go our separate ways. When we step out onto the sidewalk, Sutton pauses and turns to me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. But I was serious about you getting to know everyone.”

“I appreciate it.” I blow out a breath. “I’m still trying to get my footing here and figure out the dynamics. It’s more casual than what I’m used to with private practice.”

“Understandable. The difference here is we spend a hell of a lot of time together, so we all consider each other family.”

“Even the players?” I rock back on my heels, glancing around.

“I expected there to be a policy of no fraternization between staff and players outside of formal team related things. I was shocked to find no mention of it in the HR paperwork I received. But I kind of assumed it was an unwritten rule.”

“While some teams around the league have that rule, we don’t. Personally, I think it makes the team stronger for it. Everyone gets along so much better, and no one’s afraid of accidentally breaking a rule by being friends. There’s so much more synergy between everyone.”

“Makes sense.”

She nods and we start walking down the street toward the coffee shop.

She points out a few different places as we walk.

A deli that makes great soups and sandwiches, an ice cream shop, and her favorite bar where a group of them go for happy hour.

I take it all in, making a note of what she says so I can check out a few of the places she suggests.

I’m new to this area, so I’ll take any recommendations I can get.