“You’re sure, beautiful?” he asked.
I gave him a grin. “I am flattered, Mr. Newman. But I don’t date my patients.”
My instructor Veronica shot me a good-natured eye roll and a smile. She knew exactly what Mr. Newman was like—incorrigible and charming in equal measures.
Nor did I date men who were forty-five years older than me, but I suspected he already knew that part. He had taken a nasty spill thanks to a testy knee—“from the army,” he told me—and had broken his hip. His recovery was slow going, but he’d offered the flattering compliment that his time was well spent because he was with me. I felt the same way. Greg Newman was positive, funny, and the most respectful man in my life. I liked spending time with him. He didn’t let little things stop him. He didn’t even let big things stop him.
Unlike a certain other someone who had been fighting me every step of the way.
I told myself I was being unfair. Cade had only been in recovery for a few months. Healing took time.
“Is there someone else?” Mr. Newman asked with mock concern.
“There’s no one else.” I encouraged him to take another step.
“I can tell,” he said, regripping the bar and committing to his next step, “that you have a man on your mind.” He harrumphed. “A younger man, I’ll bet. I guess I can’t blame you. Everything on me is falling apart, and I don’t think I could keep up with someone as young and active as you are.”
“You’re doing fine,” I said. “You’re doing better than most of the younger men I know.” One in particular. “These days, the younger guys can’t hold their own the way you mature men can.”
“ ‘Mature’ is a nice way to say ‘geriatric.’ ” He lifted gray eyebrows.
I gave him a wink that seemed to satisfy him for the remainder of the session.
Once we were through, Veronica called me into her office. I went, half worried I’d committed some infraction of which I was not aware. As a perfectionist, I was always fearing I was doing something wrong. Even when I was sure I wasn’t.
“Close the door.” Veronica wore a bland expression on her caramel-colored face. Until I was a licensed PTA, she was my shadow. I didn’t mind. She was friendly, encouraging, and patient. She was also one of the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen in my life. Like Beyoncé, but slimmer, her face more placid than fierce. “Have a seat.”
Uh-oh. This really was starting to sound bad.
I eased down into the chair across from her desk and admired a small cactus with a bright orange bloom.
“Tasha.”
My eyes widened and met hers.
“I’d like to offer you a permanent position here upon graduation. If you’d like to accept it.”
Stunned, I processed this information slowly. I was speechless.
Veronica’s face broke into a smile. “Full-time employment comes with a raise, but I talked to my supervisor and we agreed to make it retroactive on today’s date.”
“But…I have a few more months?” The statement came out like a question, because I couldn’t believe my luck. A raise and a full-time position would mean I could relax about finding work. I could stay here, in a facility I loved. It would mean less dependence on my father. I could start paying for my own everything and he could no longer lord his money over me.
I grinned, the possibilities stretching out in front of me into the infinite skyline.
“I take it that is a ‘yes,’ ” Veronica said with a soft chuckle.
“Yes. I’m sorry. Yes, yes.” Unable to sit any longer, I shot from the chair and held out a hand. She shook it as I thanked her, and I appreciated her taking my profuse use of the words “so much” in stride.
At my locker, I packed my things, still grinning at the turn of good fortune. Spring really was the best—and now she was bringing me change in the form of freedom. Or the first step of it, anyway. I should get a bottle of wine. No! Sparkling wine. Something with a cork I could shoot off my balcony.
But the idea of going home to my apartment to celebrate alone did not appeal.
I could go to Oak & Sage.
The moment I had the thought, my smile returned. I could tell Rena my good news and have sparkling, bubbly wine with her. Well, since she was working, I’d likely only have it with myself, but still. I could toast to my new job. My new permanent job.
And going there had nothing to do with the fact that Cade might work this evening. Or the fact that I hadn’t seen him in almost a week.