"Okay." Dr. Harvor gestured to the door. "Let's step out into the
hall." It was quiet on this floor today, so there was little traffic.
"I
had some information I was supposed process several days ago, but it
got lost in the cracks and I neglected to get it done in a timely
manner." He tucks his hands in the pockets of his smock, his facial
expression remaining thoughtful. "I was a little surprised to find you
in Jared's room just now. When he came in for his shoulder surgery, he
asked if he could be assigned with a different physical therapist from
now on. His reason was that you and he weren't getting along, and he'd
be more comfortable with a man."
Dr. Harvor shrugs. "As far as I was concerned, you were one of the
best we had, without a mark on your record, so naturally I was confused.
I figured it was his right though, so I started that paperwork I never
finished."
Pausing, he studies Grace's face. "I've
never heard a complaint about you until now. Would you... mind telling
me what happened?"
Clint avoids answering
Angel's question, and simply accepts the ice pack and Tylenol, which he
downs easily. Putting the ice over his eye, he winces a little as the
pressure stings.
"I gotta fix that door on the shop," he muses. "That spring is too tight and it likes to snap back in people's faces."
While he spoke though, he refused to look at Angel. It was a lame effort at not lying and not telling the truth either.
"No, he didn't." Jason rolls his eyes. "This could shape
up to be quite a long day..." And night. But he really didn't want to
say that.
"I vote if by the time the sun goes down we haven't seen movement, we call in to see what on earth we're supposed to be doing."
Mick
laughs and holds up his hands in surrender. "It was both of them... but
the rest of us jumped on board pretty quick. Don't worry though - we
know you don't like big deals, so we're really just using it as an
excuse for some good food and fellowship time."
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