Page 40 of Man Handler

CHAPTER TWELVE

Austin

A WEEK LATER

“Mornin’, Miss Daisy,” Iwave as I rush by the front desk.

“Did Waldo get out again this morning?” she asks.

“Of course.”

“Maybe you should lock your front door?”

“Thank you, Daisy.”

I change my clothes quickly and head out to the waiting area, but just as I get there, Clara takes in the last patient waiting. “Good morning, Austin,” she says while walking by.

“Mornin’,” I respond.

I head over to the front desk and slump over the counter. “What’s new in Miss Daisy’s world?” I ask, flicking the pom-pom on top of her pen.

“You mean besides enjoying tea and crumpets?” she snickers.

“I haven’t said that to you in ages,” I rebut.

“Whatever happened with Boston girl?” she asks. “I mean after she called you her luvah.” Daisy falls into a fit of giggles, and I can’t help but laugh along with her because it’s becoming one of my most memorable moments at this hospital.

“That was something else.” I slap my hand against the side of my face. “I have no clue how’s she doing, though,” I tell her. “She didn’t call me, and neither did her buddy. I offered help if they needed it, but I guess she’s okay.”

“Well, that’s just as irritating as a rock. I’m sorry,” she says.

“What are you sorry about?”

“I saw your face after she left last week,” Daisy says, with a raised brow.

“What are you talkin’ about?” I huff. I didn’t look like anything of the sort when she left last week. I have the best poker face out of anyone I know.

“Austin Trace, you were as red as a ripe tomato.”

“You’re seeing things, darlin’.”

“You’re just in denial,” she argues.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not chasin’ after a girl who wants nothing to do with me unless she’s high on anesthesia. That’s ridiculous.” I stand up straight and stretch my arms over my head. “Only fools chase people.”

“Actually, Elvis said, ‘Only fools rush in,’” she corrects me, “and it’s been a week, so you’re not a fool, Austin.”

“Daisy, I ain’t chasin’ her. Why are you being so insistent on me spending time with this woman, anyway?”

“I just have a feeling, I don’t know.”

“You have a lot of feelings,” I remind her.

“Don’t fault me for being in touch with my inner thoughts.” I don’t even know what she’s talking about right now. “Want me to call her for you?”

“Um, hell no,” I tell her.

“Well, she has to come back in three weeks to get her arm checked anyway, so until then, we’ll just wait and see,” she says.