Free Return to Sender by Fern Michaels Page A

was beyond thankful.
     
    It had taken a full week before Nicholas Pemberton could get an appointment with Dr. Reeves, and by the time the day of the appointment arrived, he had no patience left. To make matters worse, he’d already been in Evan Reeves’s office for two hours without seeing the great man himself.
    They’d taken numerous blood samples, asked every medical question known to man, then asked him to wait. He did not like waiting. Especially in a cubicle the size of his clothes closet.
    In an hour he had another Friday meeting with his staff. If Dr. Reeves didn’t make an appearance by then, he would have to come to Nick. Nick glanced at his Rolex for the tenth time. As he was about to leave, the door opened.
    Dr. Reeves was not what Nick had expected. He was in his mid-to late thirties, was deeply tanned, and had longish blond hair. Wide shoulders tapered to a narrow waist. He must work out, Nick thought. In fact, he looked more like a beach bum than a doctor. Women would certainly find him attractive.
    “Mr. Pemberton”—the doctor held out a hand—“I’m Evan Reeves.
    Sorry we kept you waiting so long. Dr. Warner asked that we wait for the results of your blood work.”
    Nick leaned against an examining table. “And?” he inquired impatiently.
    “He was right to be concerned.” Dr. Reeves took a deep breath.
    “Let’s go to my office. These rooms are too small to breathe in.”
    Maybe the guy wasn’t so bad, after all.
    “Yes, they are.”
    Nick followed him down a narrow hall. At the end, Dr. Reeves opened a door to his left, stood back, and motioned for Nick to come inside.
    “Please, have a seat.”
    Nick sat down in an awkward plastic chair, one of those modern-looking things that was supposed to be comfortable. “So, am I going to die?” Nick didn’t want to waste time on idle chatter. He had things to do.
    Dr. Reeves sat at his desk. He picked up a sheet of paper and scanned the results. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you from dying, Mr. Pemberton.”
    Nick’s pulse rate increased. He raked a hand through his hair and felt his hand tremble. “This is serious, isn’t it?”
    “I’m afraid so.”
    “Give it to me straight up. I don’t want the sugarcoated version.”
    Nick jammed both hands in his pockets to hide his tremors. He did not want to appear vulnerable or afraid to the doctor.
    Dr. Reeves swiped a dark hand through his messy hair. “Okay. I think you have leukemia. We’ll need to do a bone-marrow test to confirm my findings, but at this point, I think I’m on the money. I see this every day.”
    It took Nick several minutes to absorb the doctor’s words. He didn’t interrupt him, and for that Nick was grateful. A deep breath didn’t help at all. Chelsea swore by them, but he thought her stupid. What did she know?
    “Then let’s do this test. I want to be one hundred percent sure.”
    “All right. You’ll have to be hospitalized—”
    “Are you serious? For a goddamn test? I have a meeting in less than an hour!”
    “Mr. Pemberton, this is very serious. It can be life threatening. If my suspicion is correct, you don’t have time to worry about meetings. This disease can be devastating in its swiftness. Sometimes we have only a matter of weeks to treat leukemia.”
    A thousand thoughts surged through Nick’s mind. He could die. Soon, according to the doctor. Maybe he should get another opinion. But Reeves was the best in his field; he’d gained that much information from Vinery before firing him. He was the second opinion.
    “Then let’s not waste time. Set the test up now. I’ll make a few phone calls to clear my schedule.”
    “Of course.” Dr. Reeves picked up the phone on his desk, swiveled around in his chair, facing the bookshelves behind his desk. He spoke quietly into the phone. Turning around, he got up and walked to the door. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll have my staff take care of your admission. There’s a bit of paperwork