Dead Weight Read Free Page B

read the number. Wait a minute!
    Thirty-nine pounds.
    She’d added thirty-nine pounds to my weight!
    â€œHow much does that suck?” I yelled at Goldie. “I mean, I weigh enough as it is, and she has to add thirty-nine pounds! Thirty-nine freaking pounds. What’s that about?” I took a breath. Had to. “You think she does that to all the clients here? How insulting.”
    â€œTrue. Then again any one of them could crush her in a heartbeat. Hell, even I could.” Goldie laughed, and then grew serious. “Nothing in this business surprises me though, Suga. Hold on and let’s think this through. Why would she add to your weight?”
    I slumped into a chair, which creaked. “Cause she’s a bitch.”
    He curled his lips at me.
    â€œOkay. Okay. I’m a professional and although pissed and insulted, you are right. That was purely a female reaction from the core of my gender. Okay. Okay. There has to be a reason, and a more than likely crooked reason.”
    Goldie nodded then tapped a coral painted nail to his lips. “You are more than likely correct, Suga.”
    When I lifted my legs over the stuffed arm of the chair with a groan, I vowed once again to help as many people there that I could. Extra weight required so much more energy, but somehow I’d manage. Had to. “Okay. Why would she add weight? Don’t I look big enough to be a patient here?”
    Goldie looked at me.
    â€œRight. Silly question. But to add more doesn’t make—” I swung my legs back and sat on the edge of the chair. “Hold on. The insurance companies must have guidelines. Of course they do.”
    â€œYep. I’m sure they do. Guidelines? What’s going on in that smart brain of yours, Suga?
    â€œGold, what if you needed to be X pounds to be treated here. Or, wait. Not just to be treated here, but for insurance coverage of surgery. Gastric bypass requirements do have minimum limits, and that surgery is expensive.”
    Goldie sat up straighter. “I think you’re onto something, Suga.”
    â€œI’ll just bet patients have to be a certain weight for the surgery, which could run into big bucks. So the clinic fudges the weights so they can do more.” I looked at Goldie.
    â€œBingo, Suga. Bingo.”
    I left Goldie resting while I walked to the office to do as much snooping as possible. When I neared the front reception desk, I noticed Henry talking to a woman who wasn’t as large as I was (at the moment) but she wasn’t exactly thin.
    Great. Maybe she’d been here for sometime, and I could learn from her. I walked closer, sporting my best interrupting smile. “Hey,” I said, and pushed myself closer to Henry.
    â€œPauline. Where’s your cousin?” Henry asked.
    At first I wanted to say all my cousins were back in Hope Valley, but then I remembered the cover we’d used to get Goldie in here with me. “He’s beat. Resting.” I turned toward the woman and stuck out my hand. It was then I realized my hands and wrists were pretty slender. Quickly I pulled back, but not before she appeared to notice.
    Oops.
    â€œI’m Pauline,” I said before she could process anything about me. “Just arrived. Lovely place. You? Been here long? Henry, you’re not being very polite not introducing us!” There. All that rambling should detract her from my hands—or more than likely scare her off.
    Henry curled his lips at me. “Pauline, if you gave me the chance I was just going to say, this is Hannah Gura. This is Pauline—”
    â€œPolish … Sokol. I’m of Polish decent. You?” Suddenly I felt a bond form. At least I planned to cultivate one to form.
    â€œWhy yes. I am Polish American.” She held out her hand.
    Yikes. I decided to go for it and shook very hardily so she wouldn’t be able to get too close a look. Then again, her hands weren’t much larger than