(Theme Song of the Chapter: Problem - Ariana Grande Ft. Iggy Azalea)

Sophie◆Cruz

MY FINGERS TREMBLED as I held my phone up to my ear and held my breath. Here we go. As the phone rang once, twice, and then a third time, I wondered if she would actually pick up. No, she wouldn't. She rarely ever did, and today would be no different.

I rolled my eyes as her voicemail began to play.

"This is Carmelita Cruz and I am not available at the moment. Please leave a voicemail and I will try to reach you back...."

Beep.

I sighed. "Hi Mom! It's your daughter trying to wish you a happy birthday. I hope wherever you are and whatever you are doing, you're having a great time." I paused, looking at the palm trees that decorated the clinic's parking lot.

"Anyways, I've been doing well..."

Not that she actually cared.

"Just give me a call back, okay?" I hung up the phone and released a long breath.

This was so predictable of her—to go absent without any warning or trace. I hadn't physically seen my mom in over a year, and the last time we talked on the phone she was in Cancun with her new boyfriend, who was a Z-list wannabe actor.

It's been like this since I was a little girl. Growing up, my mother was always leaving for months on end to date her foreign boyfriends, something you would see on 90 Day Fiancé.

I was practically raised by my grandparents. My mother was a teenager when she had me. She and my dad were high school sweethearts, but when he found out she was pregnant, he freaked out and left the picture. I didn't get in touch with my dad until I was five years old.

"Ms. Cruz," a wretched voice called to me as its owner left the clinic building. "Pretty women should always smile..."

I snapped my head toward the voice, not even attempting to hide my aggravation. If there was one thing I hated, it was a random old man ordering me on what to do with my body.

So patronizing.

"Bye, Earl..." I muttered before looking back at my phone.

But that didn't stop him, of course, because he began to walk toward me. I turned my head toward him warily before faking a smile, hoping he would go away.

"That's more like it..." he purred. "Now, how about that date we talked about?"

My mouth dropped as I looked around, unable to believe how shameless this married man was.

"Ah, yes," I feigned ignorance. "A date... with your wife."

His sly smirk faded, and he pressed his lips together. "No, that's—"

"Earl, please go. This is highly inappropriate," I interjected.

Earl furrowed his brows. "Well, I am not your client anymore, so it's pretty fine to me."

I looked at the old man who was practically a senior citizen incredulously. Earl was utterly delusional if he believed for a second I would go on a date with him.

I let out a humored chuckle. "Earl... if you don't stop, I'm going to tell your wife."

Earl's face grew serious at my words, and I watched as he straightened his posture in an attempt to look more intimidating. He slid his hands into the pockets of his outdated jeans and narrowed his eyes.

He stepped forward to close the gap between us, and I stepped back in an attempt to create more distance.

"You won't do such a thing," he said, his voice low. "I would hate for that pretty face to get screwed up..."

Chills ran down my body, and I froze in place. Did Earl just threaten me?

I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, a Maserati zoomed into the parking lot, coming to an aggressive stop.

The door opened swiftly, and a tall figure emerged from the vehicle. Aiden Accardi sported a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing his inked skin. Silver rings shone boldly around his fingers. His hair was neatly tamed, with a few strands falling forward on his forehead.

He made long strides toward me and Earl, and I could feel Earl's posture shift.

"Mr. Accardi," Earl said nervously, but there was something in his tone that seemed to indicate familiarity rather than addressing a public figure.

Aiden's eyes flickered between Earl and me, as if reading the scene in front of him. His eyes glossed over me, then shot Earl a look.

"Ms. Cruz, is he bothering you?" Aiden asked.

Yes.

Earl shook his head. "I was actually just leaving..." he stated before giving me one last glance and walking in the opposite direction from Aiden.

Aiden's eyes followed the old man coldly, and I could see the anger in his body language. He watched as Earl drove off and then nodded to himself, as if making a mental note.

"T-Thank you," I said timidly. "But what are you doing here? Have you found another PT at Vitality Rehab & Wellness Health?"

Aiden shook his head, slipping a hand into his pocket, the veins in his strong arms showing. He began to do that thing he always did—study me, his gorgeous eyes taking in my body.

"I actually came to see you."

My heart stopped.

How the hell did he know I worked around this time?

"Me?" I asked for clarification.

His lips curled into a grin. "I want to be a client again."

I scoffed. "That's not how this works. You have to talk to my supervisor. She can set you up with someone else."

I didn't know much about Aiden Accardi, but I did know he was a dangerous man—a danger to my career.

"I don't want another Physical Therapist. I want to continue working with you," he said. "My arm is still giving me problems, and I'm on my fourth cortisone shot this week."

This week?

"What doctor prescribes you four shots? That's medical malpractice. You're only supposed to have no more than three a year. You could hinder your healing process or worse, destroy your joints—"

"I know all that. Why do you think I'm here?" he said, crossing his arms. "Your methods might be working slower than cortisone, but they work, and they won't kill me in the end."

His dark brown eyes poured into mine, and I could see something flicker in his gaze before diminishing.

"I need you, Sophie."

The way he said my name made my heart flutter, and I felt little butterflies in my stomach. And that was the problem. Those butterflies were exactly the reason why I couldn't work with him.

One of the things I loved about my job in physiotherapy was helping people. I was naturally a person of compassion and I knew how debilitating pain and physical trauma could be. That compassion superseded the skepticism I had towards the man in front of me and I found myself contemplating if this could work again.

"If we were to work together again..." I started. "It would have to be here at the clinic. No more private sessions."

Aiden shook his head. "I'm a busy person; that won't be possible."

"Then no," I said firmly. "I can't afford to always come to you, and that may be hard for a very rich man like yourself to understand."

I also couldn't be alone with you anymore.

"This clinic is sh*t then," he said brashly. "If you can't even afford gas. What chump change are they giving you?"

I began to cower under his observing stare.

"I make deals for a living," he said, walking a bit closer to me. I just watched him in awe. "So I'll make you one."

A deal? What was he getting at here?

"I'll pay you double what they are paying you a year..." he trailed off. "Every month."

My eyes widened in shock. That would be more money in a year than I would ever be able to make in ten years at Vitality Rehab & Health Wellness.

"To do what?" I asked.

He watched me, his thumb brushing against his lips as he thought to himself.

"To leave your job and work for me and me only," he said with a certain edge to his voice. "My own personal physical therapist."

My body heated up at his words. Just last week, I had been avoiding Aiden and our private sessions, but now an opportunity had landed in my lap that ensured we would be spending even more time alone together.

"So, what do you think, sweetheart?"

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Hi, Loves! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Sophie really does have one less problem without Aiden Accardi in her life but can she pass up the cash? Would you? Please vote, comment, and follow. Your support means so much.

xoxo,

- V