Elsie scribbled on her clipboard, jotting down everything that he said so that she could refer to it later if needed. She loved that she could actually get some information from this guy, unlike the gate-keeping Nikki.
“And what do you do for your profession?” Elsie asked.
“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised. Ollie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side.
“Yes, really,” she said, tapping her pen against the side of the clipboard. “I need to know so I can get you back to it.”
“You don't recognize me?” He seemed utterly shocked by the idea.
“I'm sorry, I don't,” she replied, shaking her head. “Should I?”
Ollie leaned forward, bringing his elbows to his knees. He looked directly at her with his crystal clear blue eyes and she felt a tingling inside of her, which she tried to ignore. The man had presence.
“You're being serious?” he asked. “You're not just messing with me?”
“Look, Ollie, I'm not here to joke around,” she said with a polite smile. “I'm not messing with you. I've no idea who you are.”
“I'm Oliver Lance,” he said, as if his name was all the information she needed. Elsie shrugged. He blinked twice before adding, “I'm the starting quarterback for the San Francisco Bandits.”
Elsie raised her eyebrows, initially wondering if he was pulling her strings. The Bandits were her nephews' favorite professional football team. She didn't actually know any of the players on the team, so she couldn't be sure he was telling the truth or just trying to impress her.
“I've heard the name,” she asked, twirling her pen in b
etween her forefinger and thumb.
“So you have heard of me?” he asked, a satisfied grin crossing his face.
“No, I've heard of the team name, the Bandits,” she said. “But only in passing. I'm not a huge football fan. I'm sorry.”
Ollie's smile shifted out of cocky and into amazed as he shook his head in disbelief. “It's not often I meet someone who doesn't recognize me.”
“I'm sorry to disappoint,” Elsie replied, with a smile and a shrug.
“No, don't be.” Ollie sat up straighter on the table. “It's kind of refreshing, actually. I'm just surprised is all.”
Ollie being a professional football player certainly explained some things, including his muscular physique and his ability to afford all of the medical equipment than surrounded them.
“Can I ask you something?” Elsie asked, setting her clipboard to the side.
“Of course,” Ollie said, looking completely at ease.
“Why did that woman stress so hard that you being here was a total secret?” she asked. “She reminded me of it over and over, making sure that I wouldn't tell a soul.”
“Because nobody can find out that the Bandit's quarterback has been injured,” he said, his face loosing the confident smirk. “The car accident stayed quiet, but if word gets out that I'm injured, it's bad news for my team. If news of this injury gets out, it changes the game. It changes how we play.”
“I have to ask, does your coach know?” Elsie asked.
Ollie nodded, his blue eyes watching her. “He knows everything. This is actually his idea. I only play if I'm back to full speed. But this is my life. I need your help.”
Elsie sighed. She could see the pain and desperation in Ollie's eyes. His career was everything to him and it was clear by the lengths he had gone in order to preserve it.
“Okay, well let's get going,” she said, putting on a smile. “I can't promise a full recovery. No physical therapist can. But I'll do my best to get you back into tip top shape.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
She raised her eyebrows as she looked at him. “Please, call me Elsie. I'm a physical therapist, and 'doctor' just isn't me.”
“Whatever you say, Doc.” He winked at her.