"I'd like to see it."
"I'd like to show it to you." I directed her to the area behind the receptionist's desk. A series of five doors off the long hallway. One opened into my office and the other four led to exam rooms for patients. There was an alcove on the opposite side for Linda.
"Did you have anything in mind?" she asked.
"Not really. What I'd like is a scene that would create a sense of comfort. The children I see are sick, and some of them are afraid they'll need a shot or that someone's going to poke a needle in them and draw blood. I want to convey that the doctor's office isn't a scary place."
Macy frowned. "It was for me."
I frowned in return. "Then make sure this one isn't."
She hesitated, and I could see she disliked me as much as I did her.
Then she smiled. "I'll sketch a concept and bring it in for your approval," she said pleasantly.
"When can I expect that?"
She shrugged. "It shouldn't take more than a couple of days."
I questioned that, considering her attitude toward punctuality. "And your fee is?" I asked.
She glanced down the hallway and I could almost see the wheels turning in her brain. When people know I'm a physician, they usually jack up the price. If she attempted to gouge me, I wouldn't tolerate it. Linda had given me the amount charged by the artist Patrick had employed, so I had a rate to compare Macy's to.
"I can see this running about seven hundred dollars." She looked at me assessingly. "That's half of what I normally charge--but I need a favor."
"What kind of favor?" I immediately asked.
"A small one. I'll tell you once we've agreed on a scene. Okay?"
I nodded, just so we could move this process along. I could always decline and find another artist.
"Go ahead and sketch out your idea and bring it over when it's convenient," I said.
"Okay."
I started out of the office, grateful this meeting was over.
"I'm sorry I was late," she said as she began to leave.
"Apology accepted. Oh, can I see the photos you brought?" I remembered that was why she'd kept me waiting an additional thirty-five minutes.
"Yes, I almost forgot. I think Lovie might've chewed on the corners of a couple of them, but you'll get a good idea of the work I do."
I still didn't know who Lovie was, nor did I want to ask.
She brought the photos out of her purse and handed them to me. The edges had been chewed on--and recently, I noticed, since they were moist. I shuffled through the first few and thought she did an adequate job. Her work was at least as good as that of the artist Patrick had used.
"Well?" she said expectantly.
"You'll do. Based on the acceptability of the sketches, of course--and the terms of this so-called favor."
Anger flashed in her eyes. "I'll get back to you next week."
"Fine."
She yanked the photos out of my hand, turned and walked out the door.
For the life of me I couldn't imagine why Hannah would ever think I'd be interested in someone like Macy Roth.
Chapter Fifteen
D
r. Michael Everett was a jerk. Macy couldn't understand why a woman as kind and compassionate as Hannah would marry such a...a stuffed shirt.
She left the office building and drove home, muttering under her breath. She couldn't get away from that unpleasant man fast enough. He'd gotten all bent out of shape because she was a few minutes late. It wasn't like the entire world revolved around
him! Back in her own neighborhood, Macy released a deep sigh and felt the tension ease from her neck and shoulders. Men like Dr. Everett were one reason she couldn't hold down a regular nine-to-five job. She'd never survive in an office, because she couldn't bite her tongue; it just wasn't in her.
Ten minutes with him had been a severe challenge. When she reached her front porch, Macy found Sammy curled up on the welcome mat, his chin resting on his paws.
"Did Harvey lock you out again?" she asked. Poor Sammy didn't know where else to go. Macy had dutifully taken him to the vet for a checkup, hoping he'd have a microchip; of course he didn't. The good news was that he'd been neutered--one less expense for her. It also proved that once upon a time he'd had a loving, or at least decent, home. She'd posted Sammy's picture on every telephone pole in a mile's radius, along with her cell phone number. So far she hadn't received a single response. He was such a gentle dog and he'd done wonders for Harvey, although her neighbor would never admit it.
Despite his protests to the contrary, Harvey liked Sammy. He grumbled about how much the dog ate and that he brought fleas into the house, which wasn't true. Still, she saw Harvey place his hand on the dog's head and pat it. Sammy provided companionship when she wasn't around and he was a good watchdog, too. No squirrel had gotten into Harvey's backyard bird feeder since Sammy's arrival.
"Where's Harvey?" Macy asked, bending down to stroke his fur.
Sammy looked up at her with his doleful dark eyes.
"I'll bet he just forgot and locked the door," she reassured him. This had happened a couple of times already. When it did, Sammy wandered over to Macy's and set up residence on her porch. Unfortunately Snowball objected vigorously whenever Macy let him in the house. The cat apparently considered it his duty to maintain a dog-free zone.
Sammy rose and started down the steps. He paused halfway to look over his shoulder, as though urging her to follow.
"Okay, I'll come," she said.
Instead of heading for Harvey's front door as he usually did, Sammy led her to the backyard.