of well-cut slacks that showed off his muscular legs and great butt.
“I saw Grace in the parking lot,” he said, his voice like warm chocolate and Southern Comfort. “She let me in.”
“Why did you come back?”
“I want to know how my sister is.”
“Amy and I discussed everything.” Rebecca had done all the talking so “discuss” was stretching it. But she’d given the teen a lot of information. She took off her glasses and tossed them on the stack of charts. “Did you ask her how she is?”
“Yes. Now I’m asking you.”
“If there was something she didn’t understand, I’d be happy to explain it again. To her.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d explain it to me.”
“She wouldn’t tell you.”
It wasn’t a question. If he knew, he wouldn’t be here, which would certainly make her life easier. But she was puzzled. Amy had gone to him for help and now was holding back. Why?
He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb as he shrugged. “You know how teenagers are. A lot of it went over her head. She couldn’t remember. So just give me the facts.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why?” he demanded. “I’m her brother. I’ve got a right to know.”
“Not so much.”
He blinked. “How’s that?”
“Amy is not in a coma,” Rebecca explained. “She’s able to give consent and she’s choosing to make her own decisions about her medical treatment.”
“I’m not asking to make decisions.”
“Right.” She suspected he wanted to be in control, otherwise he wouldn’t have come back for information. If Amy wasn’t inclined to share it, why had she gone to him in the first place?
“Don’t look now but your skepticism is showing, Doc. I just want to know what you told her.”
“There are laws protecting a patient’s right to privacy. If Amy wants you to know, she’ll tell you.”
“She won’t say anything.”
Then neither would Rebecca. She folded her hands on the mess of paperwork in front of her and stared at the baffled expression on Gabe’s face. For a man who liked to be in control it wasn’t a comfortable place to be. And why that tugged at her she couldn’t say.
When the silence stretched out, determination replaced bafflement. “If possible, Amy’s even quieter after seeing you earlier. I’d like to know whether or not I should be concerned.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It could be,” he argued. “All you have to do is tell me she’s fine. Or how about this. I’ll say it and you just nod. One for yes, two for no.”
“I can only say that this is a discussion you need to have with Amy.”
“Who’s going to know if you tell me anything? It’s not like I’m going to rat you out. For that matter, I wouldn’t even know who to tell.”
“I’m sorry, Gabe.” It occurred to her that Grace might have a point. He was annoyed, yes, but if he didn’t give a damn he wouldn’t be here after hours badgering her for information. Chalk one up for him. “Clearly you care about your sister, but my professional obligation is to my patient. I’m Amy’s doctor.”
“I’m Amy’s brother. The way I see it that close personal relationship trumps your professional obligation.”
What the hell did he know about her professional obligations? She sat up straighter. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a builder. T&O Enterprises is one of the fastest growing companies in the country.”
“And aren’t there rules you have to follow? Standards you have to maintain in order for the integrity of whatever you build to pass inspection? Obtain a certificate of occupancy?”
“Yes.”
“And if you don’t follow the rules, there are people you have to answer to. Isn’t that right, Gabe?”
“You know it is, Rebecca. Do you mind if I call you Rebecca?” he asked, turning on the charm.
“Yes, I do mind.” But she minded more that her heart had sped up again and it wasn’t because he’d startled her. This so wasn’t a good time to find out her high IQ was no match for his charm. “So you can understand that doctors have rules, too.”
He moved out of the doorway and farther into the office, stopping in front of her. She swallowed the familiar taste of fear. It was automatic; it was habit. She owned this problem. He’d done nothing threatening and she wasn’t afraid of him.
“My sister left home without a word to anyone and when things got rough she showed up on my doorstep. In your opinion, is that sound judgment?”
Of course it wasn’t. But Amy’s judgment might have been impacted by trauma, and Rebecca had no intention of sharing those suspicions. “It doesn’t matter what you or I think. In the eyes of the law, she’s old enough to call the shots.”
“She’s eighteen. Just a kid herself.”
“Even if you were her parent, I couldn’t give you her medical information without her permission.”
“That’s nuts,” he said emphatically.
She shrugged. “That’s the way it is.”
He stared her down for several moments, then ran his fingers through his hair, his frustration obvious. “Can you at least tell me she’s fine? That’s not actual information. It’s more in the nature of how’s the weather. How about those Dallas Cowboys. Or have a nice day. Just tell me she’s okay.”
“As I said before, it’s not that simple.” Rebecca couldn’t tell him anything without divulging her medical information.
“What’s wrong, Doc?”
“I never said there was anything wrong.”
“Your face does. You’re worried about something.”
Was she that easy to read? Or was he just good at it? Or was he simply fishing for information? She hoped not—on all counts. Because she really didn’t want him questioning whether or not she was nervous. Her jumpiness wasn’t about the present, it was about the past. And that’s where she wanted to leave it.
“I gave Amy all the facts she needs for now.”
Facts like her blood pressure was high and a cause for concern. The minuscule amount of information she’d been able to get out of the teen convinced her that when she’d eaten at all, her diet had consisted
