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I’d married years ago in Florida,” she continued, “but that Dr. Richie person strutting back and forth and tossing out all that overly dramatized gibberish was just too…” Her sentence trailed off and she shook her head.
    Riley had never personally met Richard Strong, but having inherited the job of cleaning up the man’s mess here at the clinic—and the potential problems that could ensue—Riley had certainly learned a great deal of secondhand information about the man. Some people loved him, saw him as charismatic. He apparently had a way of garnering people’s trust. And Riley had heard it said that the man could sell ice cubes in Antarctica. And the suits in Administration had loved that “salesman” aspect of Dr. Richie’s personality. Plus, when he’d accepted the job of running the clinic, the famous guru of the Northwest had brought quite a fan following along with him.
    But there were plenty of people who had their doubts about the man and his tactics.
    â€œI just can’t believe what he’s done,” Carrie continued, amazement filling her tone to the brim. “What kind of person is he that he felt he needed to change his name?”
    Riley perked up. “He changed his name?”
    â€œYes,” Carrie said. “He was born Strokudnowski. Richard Strokudnowski.”
    A difficult name to spell, Riley decided as he attempted to jot it down.
    â€œWell, there’s really nothing wrong with a name change,” he told her. “Lots of people do it.” Riley hoped he didn’t offend her. He only meant to offer another view. “Especially prominent people. Stars and the like. They want to be called something that makes an impact, something that’s easy to remember. Strong is much easier to remember than Strow…Strew… ” His eyes grew wide when he realized that Richard Strong’s given name had slipped right out of his brain.
    â€œStrokudnowski.” Her mouth quirked. “I see what you mean.”
    â€œAnd surely you know,” he went on, “that Dr. Richie has been making a name for himself in the fitness world for some time now.”
    â€œI’ve recently discovered his fame.” She winced as she asked, “But Dr. Richie? It sounds so lame.”
    Riley shrugged. He thought the name sounded pretty silly, too, and wanted to shake his head every time he was forced to say it, but who knew how the Dr. Richie phenomenon got started?
    â€œSometimes a person grows larger than life,” he suggested, “and the fans are the ones who do the choosing.”
    Her expression told him she hadn’t thought of that possibility before this moment.
    â€œDr. Jacobs, I need to find him.” She scooted to the edgeof the seat. “I feel so bad about what I did, about what I said in that seminar. I need him to know that. Can you tell me where he’s gone? Did he move out of the state? Did he take a job at another clinic?”
    â€œI’m sorry.” He shook his head, truly empathizing with the woman. “I don’t know where he is. Actually, we’re looking for him, too.”
    Her eyes grow round. “Is he in trouble? Did I—”
    â€œHe’s not in trouble,” he assured her. “We’ve decided to do some testing on his weight-loss treatment.”
    â€œNoWait.”
    Riley nodded.
    â€œI was asked to go give back my bottle,” she said.
    Again, he nodded. “We’re hoping to collect as much of it as we can.”
    â€œI’m relieved.”
    Her response startled him into silence. Most of the clinic’s clients were upset about having to surrender their NoWait.
    â€œDr. Jacobs,” she said in a lower tone, “I’ve been visiting the clinic for weeks now. Since that oil was introduced, people around here have been acting like a bunch of horny toads ready to dry-hump anything that stands still long enough.” Her