Page 23 of My Fake Dating with the Grumpiest Highlander
What exactly is happening here?
“The dizziness?”
“Gone.”
“The chest pain?”
“Disappeared like magic.”
I stare at her, trying to understand.
Either this woman had a brief anxiety episode that resolved on its own, or...
Or she’s lying.
But why would someone fake cardiac symptoms?
Attention?
That doesn’t fit her demeanor at all.
She doesn’t seem worried.
She doesn’t seem sick.
She seems...
Satisfied.
I frown.
“I’m going to be honest with you,” I say carefully. “I can’t identify the cause of your symptoms. They may be related to temporary stress or indigestion, but I’d prefer to see you again tomorrow just to make sure everything’s alright.”
“How diligent!” she exclaims with enthusiasm that feels wildly disproportionate. “Dr. McKinnon never would’ve come twice.”
Of course he wouldn’t.
Because he would’ve figured out in thirty seconds that there was absolutely nothing wrong with you and trusted his own judgment.
“I prefer to be cautious,” I say while closing my medical bag. “Especially with symptoms this... vague.”
“Vague,” she repeats with a tiny smile. “An excellent word choice.”
I stand, eager to leave this room and this woman who makes me feel like a mouse being observed by a cat.
“If you experience palpitations or pain again, don’t hesitate to call me immediately. Even in the middle of the night.”
“You’re adorable, Dr. McLeod. Absolutely adorable.”
Jamison appears in the doorway as if summoned by magic, ready to escort me out. I turn back toward Maggie.
“Get some rest. I’ll send a message later this evening to check on you.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m in excellent hands.”
I follow Jamison into the hallway, relieved to leave behind that sitting room and those unnervingly sharp blue eyes. We cross the grand hall in silence, my footsteps echoing against the polished floors.
“Is Mrs. McGregor often ill?” I ask.
