KNOX: An Enemies-to-Lovers Sweet Romantic Comedy Page 3
“Yes,” he said, and pulled away. “I need to go in now. It’s good to see you again, Sylvia. I’ll see you around.”
He stepped toward the door.
“Are you dating anyone, Knox? Our viewers want to know.”
He didn’t answer, just waved as he walked through the double glass doors, then through another set of doors and into the lobby.
An attractive receptionist, maybe in her thirties, sat at a desk. Glancing up, she smiled. “Welcome to Cerebration Works. How may I help you?”
“I’m here with my brother, Daniel Reid.”
“Oh, yes. I saw you in the bowl game. You were great.”
“Thanks,” he said and gave her a subdued smile.
When he didn’t say anything else, she nodded and motioned to a hallway. “They’re in the third room on the left.”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
“If you need anything else, just let me know.”
The door to the third room back on the left was ajar and he could see the therapist-slash-scam artist.
Amy Kingsley.
She wore cowboy boots and jeans — and she rocked those jeans. If things had been different, she might have even rocked his world. Instead, he was going to rock hers — and not in a good way.
* * *
The door to the consultation room opened and Amy looked over.
Oh, great. The Big Jerk was here with Daniel.
“Mr. Reid,” she said smoothly. “Did you want to get an up-close look at what you consider a scam operation?”
His mother’s eyes widened. “Did Knox say that to you?” She sounded scandalized.
“Oh, yes,” Amy said. “He was very open about his opinion as he stormed off the dance floor.”
“Knox!”
“Mother,” he said, lifting his hands. “I hadn’t researched the place then.”
“And you have now?” Amy asked, her tone more belligerent than the professional one she preferred to use.
Knox nodded. “I’ve read the claims.”
Amy narrowed her eyes at him. Without breaking eye contact, she said, “George, would you please take Mr. Reid to the MRI room and get him ready? I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
George said, “Sure.”
Amy motioned to Knox. “Mr. Reid, please come with me.”
“I’d rather stay with my brother.”
She stood as tall as she could make herself and pointed to the door. “Out.”
George looked at her with a funny expression.
She knew she was being rude and even unprofessional. How could this clod of a football player get under her skin so much? Why did she lose her cool around him? She was never like this to people, but she couldn’t seem to stop being rude to him. But he’d started it, she wanted to say, as if she were a child.
She stared at him, daring him to refuse. He scowled but pushed through the door. She stepped into the hall and led him back into her office.
He filled the room with his size and his personality. She almost felt like she couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t used to confrontations, but she was so angry at him that she wanted this one.
“Take a seat,” she said with an unwelcoming tone.
“I’d rather stand,” he said, a stubborn slant to his jaw as he crossed his arms.
She leaned against the desk and crossed her own. “Suit yourself.”
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
Was there a way to say this without being rude? Did she even care with this guy who pushed all her buttons? She forced a smile. “I want your brother’s experience here at Cerebration Works to be positive, and I believe you coming here with a belligerent attitude will be negative.”
“I want the same thing. I’m just here to help Daniel through the experience.”
His words were reasonable, but the smirk on his face pushed her to say, “You’re here to prove we’re scam artists. You already admitted that to me.”
“I had my doubts, but that’s why I’m here. To see what you’re doing and to make sure Daniel has a positive experience.”
So he was going to throw her own words back at her? Really?
Before she could say anything, he went on. “What does this therapy normally cost?”
She paused. He’d spoken in a placating voice, one she hadn’t expected, and lost the smirk. Was he trying to be more reasonable — or was he just trying to get her to lower her defenses? “Twenty thousand dollars.”
“For two weeks?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“Yes, it is, which is why we provide state-of-the-art, cutting-edge technology to change our patients’ lives. They tell us we’re worth every penny.”
“How much would it be worth to you to step aside as Daniel’s therapist?”
Not sure she’d heard him correctly, she said, “I beg your pardon?”
“Let someone else help him.” He shrugged his huge shoulders. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Had she just heard him correctly? Was he trying to bribe her? “You couldn’t pay me enough to step aside now.”
“How about a million dollars?”
Shocked into silence, she stared at the man. Was he serious?
He shrugged. “I’m good for it.”
That shook her tongue loose. “I’m sure you are. Now I’d like to ask you to leave the clinic before I call the police.”
4
Let’s Just Disappear for a Week
She was beautiful when she was angry, and Knox realized she was spitting mad.
“A million dollars can change a life,” he said, affably.
“Having millions can change people into arrogant jerks, too. I wouldn’t want to risk it. So take your bribe and put it where the sun don’t shine.”
“I’d rather call it an incentive.”
“What exactly are you afraid I will do to your brother? That another therapist wouldn’t, I mean? Do you really think I’m so inept that another therapist can help him here when I can’t? It’s not our company’s methods you object to, but me, personally?”
Her green eyes glinted in an if-looks-could-kill sort of way. She was an itty-bitty thing, but he wasn’t about to cross her in this moment.
But he had to. For his brother’s sake. “I object to the company, as well. I just don’t think Daniel will go through with it if you’re not here.”
“Why wouldn’t he? This is just ridiculous.” She picked up the stapler off her desk as though she were fixing to throw it at him.
“You’re telling me you’re the first person in the United States, in this century, who is willing to turn down a cool million dollars?”
She set down the stapler very carefully and straightened her blouse with just as much intent. He was ready for her to make a move. “I don’t want your money, Mr. Reid. I don’t want your attitude. I don’t want you here at all.”
“I don’t want you offering my brother false hope.”
“False hope is when you hope they recover and they die.”
Surprised, especially at the softening of her tone, he said, “You’re awfully pessimistic to be in this job.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, probably counting to ten before she did something really rash like attack him, though he was pretty sure he’d win a direct physical assault from this itty-bitty thing. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. We’re done here. Leave before I report you to whoever you report bribes to.”
He raised a hand and laughed. “It was a joke. Who would actually pay someone a million dollars? Of course, I wasn’t serious.”
“Yes, you were.” She picked up her phone. “I’m going to call security.”
“Security or the police? Make up your mind.”
She narrowed her eyes and proceeded to push buttons.
“Wait. There’s no need for that.”
She stilled and looked up at him, speaking with a fair amount of authority. “I’m going to
request that you don’t come to your brother’s therapy sessions if you can’t behave yourself. This isn’t a football field, and you don’t get to tackle me, not even verbally.”
She was using football talk on him? That just made her more attractive. Heaven help him, if she wasn’t trying to sucker his brother right now, he’d ask her out.
After a long pause, during which the air fairly simmered with attraction between them, he said, “Fine. You win. I’ll behave.”
“So you agree that you don’t get to make the calls? That you’ll sit on the bench waiting for the coach to call you in?” She narrowed her eyes again. “And I’m the coach.”
What a little spitfire! He wanted to laugh, to pick her up, to say something that would make her even more angry. Instead, he did the wise thing and reluctantly nodded. He couldn’t keep her away from Daniel if he wasn’t allowed in the building. “Yes, Coach.”
“Make sure you remember that,” she muttered as she pushed past him and went through the office door. Turning, she waited for him to come out, likely not trusting him in there without direct supervision.
He really wanted to kiss her.
* * *
“What’s got your boxers all twisted up, son?”
Knox looked over at his father, seated in his recliner. This had been a long day, what with encountering Sylvia, being benched by Amy, and watching Daniel struggle through basic mind/body exercises. “Nothing, Dad. Just worrying about Daniel.”
“Well, stop. He’ll be okay.”
Knox nodded.
He and his father had a complicated relationship. Knox — and all of his brothers — had spent their entire lives and careers trying to live up to their dad’s legend as a Hall of Famer. Ace Reid had done everything better — he’d played better, he’d played longer than most, and he’d set records that were still unbroken.
He just couldn’t seem to communicate with his sons very well.
Still, Knox wasn’t going to stop just because his dad said so. He was no longer a child. “How about Jessie?”
“What about her?” His father lifted the remote to turn his game back on.
“What can we do to get them back together?”
“They’re not our business, son. They’ll figure it out, or they won’t.”
“Okay.” Knox stood, irritated with his father’s aloofness.
“Grab me a Coke while you’re in the kitchen.” It wasn’t a request.
“Sure, Dad.” And, if his father was lucky, Knox wouldn’t pour it over his head.
After delivering the Coke — unpoured — Knox made his way back to the kitchen, where his mother was stirring what he hoped was a Texas sheet cake, one of her specialties. “Sheet cake?”
“I know it’s one of your favorites.” She snapped the bowl into the base of the mixer and started the beaters. “I wish you’d try to be nicer to the therapy people, Knox.”
“I just don’t want them to give Daniel false hope.”
“But what if they really can help?” His mother touched his shoulder. “They helped Butch Newcomb from Baylor last year.”
“The tight end?”
His mother nodded.
“Was he diagnosed with ALS?”
“No official diagnosis, but he’d had multiple concussions and had the symptoms, stumbling and slurring his words. A lot like Daniel’s injury. Now he’s walking and talking just fine. Your father talked to him afterward and asked if he was back to 100 percent, and he said no, but he’s about 90 percent.”
“But he’s not playing.”
“No.”
“And Daniel will likely be diagnosed in the next year or two.”
“Maybe. But maybe they can still help. The traditional physical therapists have him building his muscle strength. This therapy is supposed to integrate mind and body and retrain the brain.”
“But Daniel thinks he’s going to play football again, and that’s not gonna happen.”
His mother nodded. “That’s something Daniel has to come to terms with. But it might be easier to accept if he can at least get around better, to accept 70 or 80 percent instead of 100.”
Knox nodded. “Maybe so.”
“Stop fighting this so much.”
“I’m worried about his marriage.” Knox leaned against the counter. Surely his mother could see why.
Rebecca sighed. “This is hard on everyone, and Jessie has to come to terms with his disease, too. Cut her some slack. She just needs to work through things.”
Knox raised his hands in protest. “But he said she left him in his hour of need. He had his fifth concussion, has pre-ALS symptoms, and his wife took off with his children. I’d say he’s right.”
“You know what I think?” His mother sighed again and set down the wooden spoon. “I think she just got tired of Daniel being such a big jerk.”
“Mom!”
“I’m calling it like I see it. He hasn’t dealt well with all of this.”
“Who would?” he asked. “He’s lost his balance and speech, his career, and now his wife.”
“She’s just licking her wounds. She hasn’t gone anywhere. He just needs to get over his pity party and apologize.”
“Wow. I can’t believe you’re saying this.” He looked at his mother. “What do you say about me behind my back?”
“That you’re a jerk to therapists who are trying to help your brother.”
That brought a snort of unexpected laughter, and he raised an eyebrow. “You’re probably right.”
“Be nicer to her, son. You obviously like her.”
He snorted. “I don’t like her. She’s stubborn and may be after Daniel. That’s who she likes.”
His mother came closer and slipped her hand through his arm, looking up at him. “Son, the sparks practically fly when you two are in the same room with each other.”
Softening, he said, “Sparks before an explosion, maybe.”
“Sparks. I’m telling you.”
* * *
“That’s the way,” Amy told Daniel as he struggled to do the task before him.
The unique therapy required patients to complete physical tasks while working on mental tasks at the same time in order to put their brains and bodies in sync. The first few days were always the toughest, and this was only Daniel’s second day.
Though she couldn’t see Knox, she could feel his presence behind her. She knew if she glanced back — as she couldn’t seem to stop doing — she’d see him leaning against the wall of the treatment room, his arms crossed, a scowl on his face.
He was, technically, behaving but she hadn’t counted on his mere presence unnerving her to this extent.
It was like he put off pheromones or something and she was drawn to him. What was with that?
She really had to get him out of here. But how? Her boss wouldn’t like it if she just ordered him out. Paul had already let her know she was to make sure everything ran smoothly with Daniel’s therapy — and, unfortunately, that included keeping his grumpy brother happy. Well, at least not making him unhappy.
Too bad she couldn’t seem to stop herself from getting into it verbally with the guy. Very unprofessional of her, and she was determined that she would not let him get to her today.
She glanced back.
He was, indeed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, scowl firmly in place, watching her.
She forced a smile, resisted giving a wave, and turned back to his brother, her face now flushing warm.
How could a large scowling man be so darned attractive?
Knox Reid was an enigma. A puzzle. A nuisance.
She liked puzzles. It’s what had drawn her to her current work — puzzling out, with the help of the specialized MRI tests, what parts of a patient’s brain were deprived of blood flow and needed to be stimulated back into good communication. She was good at those types of puzzles.
She wondered what was going through Knox Reid’s brain right then.
Her face still warm, she kept her b
ack to him, determined not to glance at him again. Ever, if possible.
Lucinda George, the technician assisting Amy, glanced at her and then at Knox and back at her. It was pretty bad when her coworkers could tell how rattled she was. Lucinda stepped close to her, and whispered, “Do you know they’re both famous football stars?”
Amy nodded.
“Is the brother dating anyone?”
Something stabbed through Amy. Jealousy? Surely not. She whispered, “Not that I know of. You ought to go ask him out.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
Amy was so unnerved that her hands were starting to shake a little.
Lucinda noticed and tipped her head closer to Amy. “Would you like me to handle the rest of this hour? Maybe you could go grab a Coke or something.”
Trying not to show the huge relief she felt, Amy smiled, and whispered. “Thank you.”
Then, without looking back, she strode to the door, opened it, stepped through, and let it close behind her.
Her heart racing and her breaths shallow and hard to catch, she started walking up the hallway. It felt as though she’d left the playing field, giving up the win, but she just couldn’t handle any more of Knox Reid at the moment.
When she heard the door open behind her, the one she’d just come from, she ducked into an examining room and closed it behind her. Thank goodness the room was empty.
This was ridiculous. She was actually hiding? That wasn’t like her.
How was she going to make it through two weeks of this? Knox Reid was going to be the death of her. But she was determined he wasn’t going to be the death of her career.
After a few moments, she drew in another deep breath.