Page 73 of Meant to Be

“You know I’m a doctor, right?”

I tilted my head. “What’s your point?”

She rolled her eyes before turning back to the counter where she’d been cutting. “Dammit! There’s blood on the board. I just ruined the lentil loaf I was making. Shit!” she cursed, frustrated.

“Hey.” I halted her movement toward the garbage can, wrapping my hands around her upper arms. “First of all, lentil loafshouldbe ruined so let’s thank the Man upstairs for that. Secondly, what’s got you so upset?”

She blew out a breath, causing a curl that’d fallen into her face to blow outward, but landing back in the same spot, just over her eye. “My lentil loaf is very good,” she mumbled.

“I’ll take your word for it, sweetheart.”

Another eye roll. “Whatever.” She turned, stepping out of my embrace and slamming the chopping board back onto the counter.

I frowned, not liking at all that something was weighing so heavily on her. “Kayla,” I called, turning her to face me again. “Tell me what’s going on. Why’re you treating my cutting board like it ate your lunch?”

“I’ll replace the cutting board.”

“I don’t give a shit about that cutting board, Kay. And you know it. Tell me what’s going on,” I demanded. I was working to control my own anger at that point.

“It’s just not right!” she finally answered, her hands waving in the air.

I continued holding her by the arms. “What’s not?”

“Life. This world,” she replied as if I should’ve known what she meant. “All of this shit happens and people walk away like it’s nothing. And assholes who hurt others get to go on and live their pathetic little lives as if they’ve never done anything wrong.”

Heat rose in my chest, and not the good kind of heat either. “Who, Kayla?” My voice was low.

“N-not me. Someone else.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Who?”

Her eyes shut and she inhaled deeply before pushing out the breath. “A patient of mine.” She opened her eyes. They bored into mine, as if pleading. “I can’t give you more information. It’s private. I just …” she sighed. “She’s a good person. Just wants to raise her daughter and live her life.”

“A patient?” This was about more than a patient.

“And the asshole that—” She broke off, briefly covering her lips with her hand. “I can’t say.” She looked at me, as if begging me not to ask for more information than she could give.

I ground my teeth together, clenching my jaw. “Kay, I solve problems for a fucking living.”

Her forehead wrinkled as she looked quizzically at me.

“You keep talking in circles when you could just be upfront with me and I can solve this problem.” I was growing pissed.

“It’s not my problem to solve.” She hesitated. “Not all of it anyway. But I do need to ask you something … for a favor.”

“So ask,” I urged, my hands moving from her arms to her waist.

“My patient needs a new job.” She hummed, her hands going to my arms, pulling me into her body. “She’s a paralegal.”

I reached up behind Kayla with my right hand and took her loose hair into it, tugging lightly, pulling her head back to peer up at me.

“You want me to get her a job?”

Her eyes widened slightly. “If you could just ask around. I know you probably know a ton of lawyers or firms. They might need a new paralegal.”

I worked my lower jaw, staring at her intently. Her eyes never left mine. “This is the patient you were just mumbling about?”

She tried to nod but then remembered I had her hair in my hand. “Yes.”