Free Wishes and Stitches by Rachael Herron Page A

Before all this, I was going to get coffee,” she said, waving her hands idiotically. “In the break room, Bruno’s probably made some . . .” She turned and led him into the office hallway, not watching to see if he followed.
    But the carafe was empty and it needed washing. Normally she left it for Bruno, but not this time. She needed to get that spa certificate sooner rather than later. “I just need to rinse this.” She turned the faucet on and felt Rig’s eyes on her back. Neither of them spoke over the water, and she used the moment to take a deep breath.
    When she’d started the coffee brewing and turned back around to face him, he said, “I hope this is an okay time.”
    â€œIt’s fine. I was on a short break before the walk-in emergency.” She couldn’t help grinning. A dog. “Do you want some?” She gestured to the pot.
    â€œNo, thanks. I’m fine. Do you have time this afternoon to go over some things? Maybe show me around? Or should I have called first? Did Pederson call you yet?” Rig jammed a hand into his thick hair, as if he was nervous, too.
    She nodded. “I’ll give you the nickel tour right now.”
    Rig looked relieved. Maybe this wasn’t easy for him, either. She was, essentially, his boss, and she hadn’t known about it till yesterday. For God’s sake, his tongue had done things to her that she thought might still be illegal in some backwoods parts of the country. And now she had to be professional. Competent . Well, even if she didn’t like it, even if she was furious with Pederson, she could be professional. None of this was Rig’s fault. He was just the new guy.
    She reminded herself that her father had raised a good doctor, not one who got flustered easily, dammit. She took another deep breath and smiled. Rig smiled back, and she felt something flip in her stomach.
    â€œWe don’t normally work on animals on top of file cabinets, just so you know.”
    â€œOf course not.” Rig’s smile was like honey, slow moving and sweet. “I find filing cabinets often too high. That was a nice low one, though. Again, great job. I have to admit, I thought you were more of a by-the-book kind of gal, the kind who would have sent her down the street to the vet.”
    Naomi paused before speaking. She was a by-the-book kind of doctor, and proud of it. She didn’t have time to waste messing around with alterna-healing ideas, the kind of East meets West stuff that some of her colleagues were embracing. No. It had to be tested and proven true for her to subscribe to an idea. No chakra-energy centers for her.
    Except she’d done the Heimlich on a dog.
    She cursed the blush she felt rising. “Well. Yes. Shall we?”
    Then she took a deep breath and led Rig around the office, showing him the records-management system, the computerized charts on each patient, the billing area, the examining rooms and their organized closets, and the small lab drop area. Naomi felt his approval with each step. Every time she pulled out a drawer, he asked intelligent questions, and he seemed impressed with the stock of supplies they kept on hand.
    Bruno came into the back office carrying a case of paper.
    â€œBruno!” said Naomi. “You might have already gathered this in all the excitement, but this is Dr. Keller, our new hire.”
    â€œHey,” Bruno said, brushing past them.
    â€œBut you can call me Rig,” Rig said.
    Bruno nodded but didn’t say anything. He opened a cabinet and started putting away the reams of paper, moving boxes of pens out of his way.
    â€œBruno’s great,” Naomi hurried to say. “I mean, he does just about everything around here. I couldn’t do it without him. And he’s gay!”
    Bruno’s hand froze in midair, still holding highlighters. Rig coughed.
    Naomi wanted a sinkhole to open under her feet. She’d meant to sound cool,