Rock Him (9 page)

Maddy was far too thin for his liking, but her thick-lashed, wide-spaced, sober gray
eyes, that nearly perfect bone structure, those lips … his gaze lingered on her
lips. She smiled over the rim of her mug and his heart skipped a beat. There it was,
that magnificent smile.
That
was what made her beautiful. Now that she was living here and he was spending more
time with her and Ella, he got to see that smile frequently. Sure, her lips triggered
lust, but that wasn’t what seized up his heart. He had plenty of experience with lust.
This was … tenderness, affection. Combined with lust it was uncomfortable and, given
their situation, completely inappropriate. She was his employee, for God’s sake.

“Let’s talk about your … condition,” he said.

Her smile vanished leaving a frozen, expressionless mask in its wake.

“What are you doing for it, medically speaking?”

“None of your business,” she responded frostily.

“I made an appointment with a rheumatologist,” he ignored her gasp, “the best in the
area, to talk about treatment options.”

Her gaze was stony. “Asher, I manage my disease. I have since I was a teenager,” she
replied, frost giving way to ice.

“Are you on the latest medications?”

She dropped her gaze. “I’m on … a medication. It helps.”

“Are there other, better options? What about physical therapy?”

“Asher, I’m not comfortable talking about this. You’re my boss.”

“Tough,” he responded. “I need you to be healthy to … to take care of Ella.”

Her eyes flashed. “I am healthy, damn it.” She twisted her hands together in her lap.

“I know it’s a chronic illness. I’ve read a little bit about it.”

Her chin came up.

“I read there are some pretty powerful medications. I also know that if you decide
to try them you need regular follow-up with a doctor and shots or intravenous infusions.
You haven’t done any of that, as far as I know, since I’ve met you.”

Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together so tightly the skin around her lips
blanched.

He went on doggedly, “If you need any of those things, our insurance is good, and
what it doesn’t cover, I will.”

“You don’t need to — ”

“Bullshit.” He moved closer to her. “I want to understand. Are there drugs you could
take to make it less painful, less — -”

“Ugly?”

“No.” He took her hand in his. “It’s not ugly, Maddy. Nothing about you is ugly.”
He swallowed and released her hand. “It’s hard to watch you struggle. It’s hard to
know someone like you is in pain.”

She looked daggers at him with those magnificent gray eyes. “Someone like me?”

“Someone I care about, someone Ella loves.”

She sighed. “Asher, the newer medications are expensive, some aren’t even covered.
And some of the damage to my joints happened during my childhood before those drugs
were available so I have scar tissue that interferes with my dexterity. Then there
are the side effects … its trial and error.”

“This better not be about money.”

She laughed, but it was bitter. “Easy for you to say, Richie Rich. It
is
about money. I’m a part-time student and a full-time employee. If the insurance company
covers the medications at all, it won’t cover the full amount and they’re really expensive
— we’re talking thousands of dollars. And don’t get me started on the expense of doctor
visits for follow-up and hospital visits if there are complications. Believe me, I
speak from experience.”

“But there are benefits? To the newer medications?”

“They can slow the progression of the disease. They can reduce pain,” she admitted.
“But they make me more susceptible to infection, complications from colds and flu
viruses. Let’s not forget we live with a little germ factory.” She managed a smile.

There was that hitch in his chest again.

“I want you to keep that appointment, Maddy. Please. Let’s see what the insurance
covers; it’s supposed to be a good plan.”

She stood up. “Fine.”

“And I want you to do whatever he recommends. Expense and complications be damned.”

She shook her head. “And if I get sick?”

“We’ll take care of you.”

• • •

Maddy scowled as she sat in the front passenger seat of the luxury sports car — this
one was even more ridiculous than the one he wrecked, if that was possible. People
stared at it in the stop-and-go traffic on the freeway. Clearly Asher, who had insisted
on driving her to her doctor’s appointment didn’t believe in keeping a low profile.
They discussed Maddy and her classes on the way, but Maddy was too annoyed to relax.
She was also nervous about meeting with the rheumatologist.

After the complete physical exam, the doctor instructed her to dress and meet him
in his office.

She sat in one of the two chairs facing his desk. The door opened and Asher came in
the room. Her mouth dropped open as he settled himself into the chair next to her.

“What are you doing?” she asked. This conversation would be difficult enough without
her rock star boss hanging on every word, waiting to take over her decisions. She’d
stopped allowing her mother into her consults as soon as she turned eighteen. This
disease was hers to manage. Her pain. Her choices.

“Finding out what I need to do to help,” he replied, giving her a smile that nearly
stopped her heart.

She ignored that traitorous organ, allowing anger to stiffen her spine. “Asher, get
out. This is none of your business and totally inappropriate.”

“I know,” he replied. “I just want to know what we can do — ”

“
You
can’t do anything. I’m not a child, I’ve been managing my disease — ”

“Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what the doctor is going to say? That
your disease is well-managed? I need to know as your employer and your friend that
we are doing everything we can.”

“The doctor is not going to tell
you
anything, Asher Lowe. Now get out!”

The doctor knocked on the door and entered.

“Doctor, you are not allowed to share any of my medical information with this man.
In fact, I don’t want you to speak while he’s in the room,” Maddy said.

“Maddy.” Asher’s tone was pleading.

Tough. His manipulations would not work with her.

“Asher. I’ll admit I’ve let some things slide. Mainly due to time, money, benefits.”
She shrugged. “But if this job allows, I’ll follow the doctor’s recommendations for
drug and non-drug treatment to the letter. Go wait for me in the waiting room.”

The doctor started to interrupt, but Maddy silenced him. “Not one word, doctor, while
he’s here.”

Asher stood, his expression stony, and left the room.

The rheumatologist grinned. “Must be nice.”

“
Nice
?”

“To have someone care that much,” he said, still grinning.

Maddy stiffened. “We’re not together if that’s what you’re alluding to.”

“Oh, no.” Dr. Baxter lost his smile. “I never thought so.”

Of course not. The idea of Asher Lowe with Madeline Anderson was inconceivable.

The doctor recommended one of the newer biologics to treat her disease. He warned
that if she got sick, she could end up hospitalized with complications, so he needed
to see her monthly for follow-up visits.

“Maddy, when was the last time you had a flare?”

“I’ve had some minor ones along the way, but the last significant one was in college.”

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad. I had to drop out for two semesters. There were a few hospitalizations
that year.”

But that hadn’t been the worst thing. The worst thing that year was Trey. Who could
blame him? She didn’t. Not anymore. She’d gotten sick — really sick — her junior year
in college. And Trey couldn’t deal with endless doctor visits, the hospital stays,
caring for her after her discharge. Trey was fun-loving and clever, he had loved her
— of that she had no doubt — but he was not equipped to deal with her illness. She
had broken up with him, beating him to the punch, and remembering the relief mixed
with guilt in his eyes when she told him they were done. The hollow protestations
of love, loyalty, and support that followed. Her stomach churned at the memory. So
she had returned home and had another flare, and then another, and it was a year before
she had the stamina to return to college.

“So that’s good then,” the doctor said, as he made a notation in her chart, “the significant
flares have been infrequent. I’ll know more after I run your lab work, but you seem
to be pretty healthy, considering.”

Maddy nodded.

“We’re going to change up your medications. I’ll go over what that will mean, but
I also have a list here of non-drug treatments.” He glanced up from his paperwork
“If you do them routinely, they’ll help.”

“Exercise?” Maddy asked wearily. Working as a barista and being on her feet all day,
classes and studying had left neither the time nor the inclination for exercise other
than walking the last few years.

“Yes. Swimming is best. Can you swim?”

She nodded.

“Does Mr. Lowe have a pool?”

“Yeah. Heated year-round,” she admitted.

“That’ll be perfect. Hot tub?”

She smirked and he laughed. “I’ll take that as an ‘of course.’”

He encouraged physical therapy twice a week and they worked up a schedule of stretching,
swimming and hot tub soaks.

They shook hands and Maddy went out to the waiting room to schedule her next appointment.
She was surprised to see Asher leaning on the counter, chatting with the front office
staff — all women, all eating out of his hand. She cleared her throat. One of the
ladies hustled over to schedule her next visit.

Asher winked.

Once in the car, she caught Asher sneaking glances. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you what
he recommended.”

“Oh, the nurses were very forthcoming about the typical treatments for your condition.”

“Stop calling it that. Seriously, Asher, its rheumatoid arthritis. Not ‘my disease’
or ‘my condition.’ And I’ll do what the doctor suggested; I’m no masochist.”

“Good.”

“Stop butting in though. I mean it.”

“Okay.” He sounded duly chastened, but he was smiling.

She smothered an answering grin.

• • •

The next morning, after walking Ella to the bus stop, Maddy put on her blue swimsuit,
a piece so old and dry rotted it was almost transparent. She studied herself in the
mirror ruefully. No, not almost transparent … actually transparent. Had it been
that long since she’d been swimming? Yikes. This thing was indecent. It was time to
order a new suit with rush delivery.

She pulled her hair into a tight ponytail, wrapped herself in one of Asher’s many
white guest robes and made her way downstairs.

The water was steaming, and it was a chilly fall morning. Her feet were freezing,
and after she took off the robe and threw it in a lounge chair, the rest of her was,
too. She gave a brief longing look at the hot tub, then entered the pool water. Not
warm enough. She stood uncertainly, halfway down the steps of the long rectangular
pool and trailed her fingers in the water, dreading the moment she would have to immerse
herself. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she glanced up to the window
of the master suite, Asher’s room.

There he was in the huge window, staring down, wearing what appeared to be a towel
wrapped around his hips. His eyes were locked on her, not moving. She dropped her
gaze, then remembered her transparent suit and plunged the rest of the way down the
steps to start her laps, her mind racing. Why had he been standing there, staring?

• • •

After dinner, she approached her room to find, hanging on the doorknob, a bag from
a sporting goods store. She unhooked the purchase and brought it into her bedroom,
bemused. She shut the door and reached in, retrieving a pair of goggles and an orange
rubber swim cap. That was thoughtful of him. The paper still hung heavy in her hand
— she peeked inside and grabbed the silky black material lying at the bottom. Huh.
A swimsuit. She checked the tags. Her size. She held it up, flipped it around and
cocked her head. The style could politely be called matronly. Once on, it would cover
most of her chest and back and all of her hips. It was not flattering, not in the
slightest. It wasn’t like she had plans to buy a bikini — she was swimming for exercise
after all — but this thing was hideous. The memory of him standing motionless in the
window and wearing only a towel popped into her head.

“Uncle Asher? Where are those people going with those dogs?”

Distracted from his Saturday morning mission to obtain the latest gaming device, he
looked up from his smartphone. “Hmmm? Oh, there’s a pet shop in here somewhere.”

“A pet shop?” Ella’s eyes lit up. “Can I go there?”

He glanced at her, tugging on his hand. “Yeah. Sure,” he murmured absently. “But I
need to get this console. You’ll like it, Ella.” Or he hoped she would. Maddy had
suggested it might be a good thing to bond over. He wasn’t a video gamer. Not that
he hadn’t battled friends in the Rock God guitar game to kill time on the road. But
dancing? Bowling? Tennis? He shuddered. Still, if Maddy thought it would help, he
was willing to try.

He also needed to get Ella a bike with training wheels. Maddy had been full of suggestions
for strengthening their relationship after the therapist told him she’d like to see
more of a connection between him and his niece.

He pulled her into the electronics store and caught the wistful look she cast over
her shoulder.

“Ella, I’m here to buy a game console for you,” he said, mildly exasperated.

“Yeah, but I’d really like to have a cat,” she said, peering up with sad, brown eyes.

Just as he made it to the right section of the store, his phone rang. Justin. He let
go of Ella’s hand to answer. “Yeah?”