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see a doctor, Charlie’s patience neared an end. He’d almost convinced himself that he would rather go through life with a limp than to sit another minute in the E.R.’s hard plastic chairs.
    â€œCharles Masters?”
    â€œOver here,” he called, struggling to his feet.
    A shapely Latina nurse smiled when her eyes landed on him. “The doctor can see you now. Would you like for me to get you a wheelchair?”
    That was like asking a starving man if he wanted a cracker.
    A few minutes later, Consuela, according to her name tag, wheeled him through the crowded hallway behind the reception desk. Getting a room was too much to hope for apparently. Instead, the nurse rolled him behind a makeshift divider and told him that the doctor would see him in a few minutes.
    It was another hour.
    â€œWell, well. Sorry to keep you waiting,” a voice boomed as the divider was pulled back, which jarred Charlie awake.
    â€œDr. Weiner?” Charlie asked, startled.
    â€œAh, Charlie!” A stunned smile spread across his personal physician’s face. “What a surprise.” He looked down at the paperwork Charlie had filled out at check-in. “I must be tired. I didn’t really make a connection when I read your name on the folder.”
    Charlie squared his shoulders and felt a little better about being in the care of his primary doctor. “I didn’t know you worked here at the hospital.”
    â€œWell, I fill in from time to time.” Dr. Weiner closed the folder and leveled a serious look at Charlie. “You know my office has been trying to reach you.”
    Charlie instantly recalled the number of messages left on his home answering machine. But with all the trouble going on at the office, he kept putting off returning the doctor’s calls. Besides, they probably just wanted to give him the results of his lab work for his upcoming trip.
    â€œTell you what,” Dr. Weiner said after an awkward beat. “Let me take a look at your foot, and let’s just have you come into my office in the morning.”
    â€œTomorrow?” Charlie frowned. “Is there something wrong?”
    Weiner hesitated again. “I don’t have your chart from my office with me, so let’s just go over everything then?”
    Charlie’s gaze lingered on the smiling doctor. He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

Chapter 5
    C harlie hated doctors. No doubt. His resentment went back to the day he was born, when some heartless doctor smacked him on the butt. Since then, he despised anyone wearing a white coat. Since that first day, medical professionals had put him through an endless ordeal of sharp needles, horrible-tasting prescription medicines, and as he got older, even subjected him to invasive finger-probing in unmentionable areas.
    Now with an important business trip to South Africa coming up, Charlie had to deal with a lot of blood work, updating vaccinations and loading up on antibiotics. But it all needed to be done if he was going to save his company.
    â€œAh, Mr. Masters. You kept your appointment.”
    Charlie gave an odd-angled smile as he strolled into Dr. Weiner’s office leaning on a cane to protect his sprained ankle. His brain quickly scrolled through his mental Rolodex for the name of the cinnamon-brown beauty at the check-in desk, but luckily he was rescued by her name tag. “Tammy, how are you?”
    The roll of her eyes told him she knew he didn’t remember her. “So what’s the excuse this time? You lost my number? You had another death in the family—the dog, perhaps?”
    â€œI don’t own a dog,” he said, unruffled by her irritation. He leaned over the counter and smiled into her eyes. “Besides I’ve been under the weather and have been laid up for a little while.”
    A spark returned to her disbelieving gaze. “Then maybe I could come over to your place and play nurse?”
    â€œNow