“Now, if only I could find a guy over four feet tall and of legal age who was as easily impressed.”
“It might help if you didn’t look like you were still waiting to graduate high school. Do you still get carded?”
“All the time.”
“So not fair.” They walked out of the room and headed to the nurses’ station. “I’d like to find a guy who doesn’t want to play doctor when he finds out I’m a nurse.” Jenna pulled a syringe out of her pocket, hit the end and turned it into a pen. “Of course, when I whip one of these puppies out, they tend to change their tune rather quickly.”
“Sheer genius.” They joined two of the other nurses, Valerie and Kris, along with her fellow resident on duty, Dr. Shad Davis, at the desk. “Anything new come in?” Denise handed over the hospital copies of Johnny’s discharge paperwork to Valerie.
“Nope. Time to enjoy the calm before the weekend storm, where we’ll all put in overtime. Hate holiday weekends,” Kris said.
“It’s not like I have a social life anyway. May as well work.” Denise could remember a time when she’d had a social life, had that someone special in her life to share the day’s stories with, to go out to dinner or a show with, but she’d given it all up for the dark side. Only there weren’t any cookies; just long hours, cold nights, and her infernal internal clock tick-tocking away reminding her life was slipping by.
“Tell me about it,” Shad chimed in. “I figured since I never have time to hang with friends outside of here, I’d join the social media bandwagon and sign up for Facebook. At least then, in between patients and my fellowship, I could catch up with family. Big mistake.”
“What did you do, get addicted to one of those games?” Jenna asked as she dropped into the free chair.
“I never made it that far. I picked a night after a particularly long and emotionally draining day. Got as far as filling in my profile and uploading my picture before I fell asleep at my desk. The next morning I woke up to over a hundred emails in my inbox with some interesting and creative suggestions. They even uploaded pictures. I think I saw more naked bodies in one day than I have my entire medical career.”
Jenna shot her a raised eyebrow and started laughing. Valerie and Kris, who were older and a bit on the conservative side exchanged quiet smiles.
“Doesn’t sound like Facebook to me. Not that I’m on there.” Denise pulled her water bottle out of her pocket and took a long drink.
“Well, the site started with an F and had the word book in it.” Shad turned about tens shades of crimson.
“You didn’t?” All four women asked before breaking out in laughter.
“My next door neighbor even responded. With a picture. Au natural. He’s eighty!”
Denise choked on her water. Tears streamed down Jenna’s face, while Valerie covered her mouth with her hand.
“Do you know how awkward it was running into him at the mailbox? I mean, what do you say when you’ve seen your eighty-year-old neighbor naked, with an offer to do bad things to you?”
“How’s it hanging? Oh, never mind. I already know,” Kris suggested innocently.
Denise lost it then. The laughter stole her breath away and the quieter she tried to be, the harder it was to breathe. “Clearly you need to disappear, Shad. Change your phone number, delete your email, maybe even move to Nome, Alaska. If anyone asks if you’re Dr. Shad Davis from Providence; deny, deny, deny. I could hook you up with a good plastic surgeon. A little nip on the nose and chin, a little tuck around the eyes and you might be able to return in about ten years or so.”
“I’ve learned my lesson. The Internet is evil. I’m never going on social media again. My friends and family can reach me the old fashioned way, via phone or in person.” His phone pinged in his pocket and when he pulled it out and looked at the screen, Shad hung his head. “I’m going to go delete my email account.”
“Poor guy.” Denise wiped the tears away and took in a few deep breaths. “But strangely I feel better about my life all of a sudden. I’ll be in the break-room, if anyone needs me.”
As Denise walked away from the desk, where the three nurses were still chuckling, she made a mental note: do not attempt social media. Which really wasn’t much of an issue for her anyway, except for Pinterest. She loved skimming over the recipe pins. Not that she had the time, energy or desire to cook real meals. Maybe if she had someone to share the food with, she’d be inspired to try some? As it was, cooking for one didn’t require a lot of thought.
Pop a DiGiorno pizza in the oven and twenty minutes later her dinner was ready—it was better than delivery.
The break-room was empty and Denise grabbed a packet of Pop-Tarts (unfrosted, of course) and dropped onto the sagging couch. She never noticed the beeps and hisses of the machines while on the floor. After all these years, it was white noise. But the minute she walked into the deserted lounge the quiet enveloped her, at times almost suffocating and at other times calming her nerves, allowing her to center her mind and energy. A must to survive the busy shifts in an ER.
Today it brought peace. They tell you not to get emotionally attached to patients yet it’s hard not to, especially with the kids. And Johnny, well he’d stolen her heart the first time he’d been brought in. He’d fallen off a ladder while trying to take Christmas lights off the front of their house. His mom had been at work and he wanted to surprise her. He’d looked up at Denise from beneath those long, dark lashes and said he was trying to help, so his mom could relax when she came home. How could her heart not go out to him?
The story of his dad did more than touch Denise’s heart; it ripped it to shreds and reminded her how lucky she was to have all of her family. She felt an overwhelming need to hear her mom’s voice, see her sisters and feel her dad’s strong arms around her. She made a quick call to her mom, and left a message when voice mail came on. Next she shot off a couple of texts to the not-so-forgotten-middle child, Elysia, and the baby, Rhachel, asking when they were free for a girls’ night out. Both lived within ten minutes of her, but their schedules kept them miles apart. Since she knew her dad, who worked as an airport ramp agent, wouldn’t be able to take her call, she made a note to pick up flowers and stop by to see her parents over the weekend.
Nibbling on the pastry, she pulled up her e-mail and worked her way through sales notices, sexual stimulant ads, and invitations to engage in illicit affairs. The last e-mail in her box had one of those oddly familiar names she couldn’t place right away. For several minutes she racked her brain trying to put a face with the name or at least place how she knew them. Her finger hovered over the delete button as she debated to open or discard.
“What the heck,” she said to no one in particular and held her breath as she clicked open the message. Her eyes locked onto the first line.
Dear Denise, Congratulations! You’ve been selected to be the next Mrs. Right on Finding Mr. Right.
Wow! Really?
She had put the show out of her mind. Who wouldn’t have after six months of not hearing anything? And, well, a few months ago she’d thought her days of being single had ended. As evidenced by her lack of a social life and volunteering to work on Valentine’s Day, things had not worked out as she had hoped. A quick scan of the contents had her heart pounding, palms sweating and her stomach jumping up and down. Basically it was like her first day as an intern. Scared shitless and as excited as a kid on her first trip to Disneyland.
A second read-through and she noted the schedule. Filming began in three weeks. A crew would arrive in two weeks to film her intro, as they wanted to capture the ‘real’ her, both at home and work. She would need to read the attached contract. Sign it. Complete the nondisclosure, eligibility and release forms. Sign them. Complete the medical history form (easy-peasy). Sign it (okay, she got it, sign her life away). She couldn’t pull up all the documents on her antique phone, but she got the feeling her head would spin when she did. Three weeks didn’t leave a lot of time to put her life on hold. Not
to mention shop for a new wardrobe and lose those ten stubborn pounds. Good thing she didn’t really have a life and had a lot of vacation days saved up.
“Hey, whatcha doing?” Jenna poked her head into the break room.
Denise waved her in and put her finger to her lips. “You’re never going to believe this.” She filled her friend in on the email contents while keeping an eye on the door to make sure no one else popped in. “So, what do you think? Should I go?”
Over the summer it had seemed like a great idea. Take a little break from the monotony of work. Hang out by the pool. Go on surreal dates with gorgeous men who were hot for her. Travel to exotic locations. Find someone to share her life with without all the fuss and muss of blind dates or hanging out in bars. Now? She was torn. Not that anything had really changed. One incredible weekend, didn’t change the past or—clearly—her future.
“Yes! Are you crazy? First, you get to escape the cold, because that stupid groundhog saw his shadow. We should feed him to the wolves. Second, you’d get to live in that amazing mansion with that beautiful pool. Not to mention you’ll go on cool, fun dates and visit new places. Why would you say no?”
“I don’t know about that. According to the email, they’re moving to a mansion in the San Francisco area for a change of pace and scenery. It can still be pretty cold there in March.” The second question was the issue and while it was easy it wasn’t simple. Mainly, her job. She’d worked long and hard to finish her internship and residency at the hospital. “What if they won’t give me a leave of absence? Then I’m out of a job and there’s no guarantee he’ll be the guy of my dreams.”
“You won’t know unless you go. Unless you’re still hung up on Brody.”
“What?” Her head reared back and she looked at her friend like she’d lost her mind. “Why would you think that?”
“Oh come on, Denise. I know he was the guy—from the wedding—who you spent the weekend with in October.” Jenna popped the last piece of Denise’s Pop-Tart in her mouth and gave her a look, daring her to deny it.
“I never said it was Brody.”
“You never said it wasn’t.”
“Okay, so what? I spent a wonderful, romantic weekend with my ex-fiancé. And maybe I thought, hoped, it would be the start of us rebuilding our relationship. Obviously, by his silence, that isn’t what Brody was looking for.“
Jenna crossed the room and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, tossed Denise a fresh one and then grabbed one for herself. She took a couple of sips with that hmm look on her face. The woman was worse than an amateur sleuth in a cozy mystery when she didn’t know an answer.
“So he didn’t call you after the fact?”
“Nope.” Denise slunk down farther into the couch, knowing what was coming next.
“Did you call him?” her friend asked point blank.
“It’s complicated.” Denise pulled the elastic out of her hair, dragged her hands over her head and rebound her ponytail, pulling it good and tight.
“No, it’s not. Hon, you walked out on him the first time. Doesn’t it make sense that he might have been waiting for you to call? For you to show that this was more than a weekend fling?”
Denise hung her head between her pulled up knees and groaned. She’d been wondering about this very thing for months. Hearing her friend say the obvious out loud made her feel like a scared idiot.
“If you’re going to go on the show, you need to make sure your heart is available, my friend.”
“What are you suggesting, oh wise one?” She pretty much knew, but it was always good to get a second opinion.
“You know you need to see Brody, because I think he’s the one. Either complete the circle and move on, allowing yourself an honest chance with Mr. Right, or try to work things out with your ex. I vote for option two.”
Jenna made it all sound so simple. Nothing with Brody had ever been simple and she didn’t believe in soul mates. Yes, the man drove her nuts—in all the right and the wrong ways. Passionate, honest, fun, loyal to a fault. Yet, stubborn as a mule and when mad, a jackhammer couldn’t get through the walls he threw up. None of that meant he was the only guy for her. Denise dropped her head back against the couch, she thought about all that had gone on in the past few months (years) and made her decision. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed her phone and typed a response and hit send.
“What did you just do?” Jenna asked.
“I told them I couldn’t be more thrilled to participate.” She shrugged her shoulders as she stood up. “Maybe I’ll find my dream guy, maybe not. I don’t believe Brody and I are meant to be together, we’ve had our chances. If I’m wrong, maybe this will get him up off his duff and to come after me for once.”
“And work?”
“I’m on my way to Simon’s office now. Wish me luck.” She practically bounced down the hall to her supervisor’s office. Denise gave him the rundown of the offer, reminded him of her accrued leave and a few minutes later had his reassurance that it shouldn’t be a problem.
Brody smiled as he listened to his mom rant about his lifestyle. It was an old argument, one he heard at least once a week and one he knew was delivered out of love and not disappointment.
“Mom, I’m fine—”
“Brody Andrew Nichols, wipe that smile off your face and stop mollifying me. You need a life. Working sixty plus hours a week, an occasional barbeque with the boys or a quick game of lacrosse before you return to your office isn’t living.”
“How do you know I’m smiling?”
“I’m your mom. I know all.”
“Really? What are the winning Lotto numbers?”
“Don’t sass me, young man.”
“Mom, you do know I’m thirty-two, right?” By the silence on the other end, he knew he had pushed her buttons. “Okay, then I’ll ask you an easy one. What’s the secret to a good life?”
“Unconditional love. Which, at the rate you’re going, you’ll never know.”
His smiled deepened. She’d hit part one on the head, but was so wrong on the second half. “Then I have a great life, because I have you and you’ve loved me unconditionally even when others didn’t.”
“That’s not enough. Someday I won’t be around and then who will you have? Jason and Dave will always be there for you, but they’re starting families of their own. Being alone is a lonely, sad way to live. It’s not really living, it’s existing and don’t tell me you date, because you don’t. Not really. You may go out once in a while, but when was the last time you went on a second date or a third date? You need to get over Denise, honey. I know she was the love of your life, but that was five years ago. Or forget what happened and ask her for another chance.”
He didn’t want to talk about his ex-fiancée, not now, not ever, not with his mom or even his buds. “Who?” Hoping she’d get the hint. “I’m fine, Mom. When the time is right, I’ll find someone. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Yes, I do. It’s in my job description. It doesn’t matter how tall you are, how old you are, you’ll always be my baby and I love you.” He heard the love and concern in her voice and hated that he’d put the latter there.
“I know. How about I take my favorite girl to dinner on Sunday? Let me show you my appreciation and that I don’t work too much.” He’d already made the reservation. His dad had never done anything special for Valentine’s Day unless you counted not using his mom as a punching bag that one day of the year, and it had been years since Brody had felt strongly enough about any woman he’d dated to spend the stupid holiday with.
“Can’t. That’s why I called.” His mother hesitated. “I already have a date.”
As a lawyer he’d had very few things render him speechless. This news was in the top ten category.
“Since when do you date, Mom?”
“Since a nice man asked me.”
“Who is it? Where did you meet him? What does he do?” He’d have a friend run the guy’s background. No
way would he let his mom get hurt again. She was too trusting. Too tenderhearted, always looking for the good in people, and it had nearly cost her her life.
“Baby, it’s just dinner.” After several long seconds of silence from Brody she went on. “His name is Kevin Stewart. He’s widowed, two grown kids, originally from Chicago, and is a chiropractor. We met when he attended my cooking classes at the community center.”
“How’d the wife die?” Brody scribbled the man’s info on a notepad.
A deep sigh met his question. “Really, Brody.”
“Fine. Rain check, but I’m calling you at nine.” He hung up and stared at the note. He was happy for his mom. She’d spent way too many years with the bastard known as his father, then several more learning to be her own person again. If anyone deserved to find love—and he’d never believed his old man had loved either of them—it was his mom. And well, his two best friends. It seemed like in the last year everyone Brody knew had been given a second chance. Except him. Not that he wanted the complication of a love life, or cared.
His office door clicked open and his secretary, Angie, walked in with a stack of mail. “Did your mom tell you her new beau is taking her to the White House Tavern over in Newport Sunday? They want to see if the place is haunted like the rumors say.”
He took the bundle and set it on his desk, ignoring it. “Nope, we didn’t get that far.”
She cocked her hip and rested her hand. Great, he knew that pose and look. Time for round two of his weekly lecture.
“Probably because you were giving her a hard time and don’t try to deny it. And she’s right you know. Uh-huh. If you found a nice girl to settle down with, you wouldn’t work so much.”
“Were you listening in, Angie? You know you could have just pulled up a chair, it would have been easier.”
“Don’t get fresh with me. There’s not another administrative assistant in the state who’d put up with your moodiness, and you know it. Beside, we had a little chat before I transferred her call. She’s very excited about her date.”
Boyfriend for Hire Page 30
