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don’t care about that.”
    She snuggled into my side. “You may not, but your fans will if you can’t make your shows.”
    “You’re more important then my shows.” And I meant that. She was my everything. “Dr. Malone will be here around lunch time to check you out.”
    “I guess you do have some pull after all.”
    I rubbed her arm and kissed her blazing-hot forehead. “I don’t know why you continue to doubt my mad skills.”
    A chuckle turned into a slight cough as she leaned away and reached for the toilet paper roll I had brought her in lieu of tissues. The cough was starting to sound worse, too. I hoped this doctor hurried up.  
    After my attempt to get Lane to eat some chicken noodle soup failed, there was a knock on the door. Relief flooded me as I knew this man could help her in way I couldn’t. 
    On the other side of my door stood a stout little guy, who couldn’t be much taller than five foot. His red hair was thin on top, but still thick on the sides, while his neatly trimmed beard perfectly matched the color of his hair. He kind of reminded me of one of those munchkins from the Wizard of Oz , just a slight bit thinner.
    “Dr. Malone?” I questioned since he didn’t have a white coat on or anything, merely a pair of khaki pants and a cheap looking button down shirt. 
    The man pushed by me and walked into the living room without a word. If he wasn’t my only chance at getting Lane better, I would’ve tossed him back out the door on his ass for being such a pompous dick. 
    His beady eyes shifted onto Lane who sat shaking on the sofa under a blanket. “You the sick girl?”
    Lane nodded and licked her dry lips. “Yesss, sir.”
    For being such a little man, he seemed like he could intimidate the shit out of people when he wanted. 
    “Fever?”
    Lane shrugged. “We don’t have a thermometer, but I think so.”
    The doctor narrowed his eyes at me. “What kind of person doesn’t keep a thermometer on hand?”
    I flinched at his snippy tone. People didn’t usually speak to me that way. “The kind of person who is very busy.”
    He laughed, but it was thick with sarcasm. “Son, don’t tell me about being busy. I’m busy from the time I get up, until the time I go to bed seeing patients. Even making house calls to our new resident celebrities because they feel too prestigious to come down to my clinic, yet I guarantee you I have one at my house.” 
    My jaw ached as I ground my teeth together to keep me from lashing out. Instead I took a deep breath. “I guess I’m slacking then.”
    Satisfied with my answer, he sat the small black bag he carried in with him on the coffee table and opened it. He produced the thermometer and cleaned it with an alcohol wipe before placing it under Lane’s arm. Dr. Malone also pulled a stethoscope and went to work listening to Lane’s lungs. A couple seconds later the thermometer beeped, and I attempted to read it over his shoulder before he blocked my view. 
    “Young lady, your axillary temperature is one hundred point three. That accompanied with the cough and the wheezing and crackles I hear in your lungs tells me you’ve got a nasty infection. I’m going to go ahead and give you some samples of an antibiotic that the pharmaceutical company has graciously supplied my office with for patients. Also here’s a decongestant.” 
    He pulled two white bottles from his bag and hands them to Lane. “Use the liquid medication every four hours as needed for cough, and take one pill every twelve hours until they’re all gone, regardless if you feel better. Understand?” 
    She nodded and he closed his bag. “Good. Now, there’s a matter of payment to discuss.”
    Dr. Malone turned towards me expectantly. Right. Money. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the cookie jar from the overhead cabinet above the stainless steel refrigerator. Not the most original place to keep a wad of cash, but it worked. 
    I counted out five hundred dollars, not really