“You went to Duke for your B.S. in Nursing, right?” Thomas asked anxiously as soon as we were introduced. He seemed very nervous for a man with the confidence to wear bright pink scrubs with matching nail polish. I had to remind myself that I was basically his boss. I’d never been anyone’s boss before. It was a strange feeling.
“Yes,” I replied in response to his question. “I graduated in May. I just flew up from Atlanta this morning. I’ve been working the hospital circuit.”
“I hope I get into a program that good,” he said wistfully. “I’m going to community college right now, but I’ll be applying to fulltime programs next year. I probably won’t go to North Carolina though. I’m afraid of racists and homophobes. It’s not like I can really hide how black and gay I am.”
I had to laugh at that. It was true. Although there was no way we’d be able to satisfy one another romantically, I could already tell that Thomas and I were going to get along just fine.
“There are racists and homophobes everywhere though,” I replied honestly. “The ones in the north just hide it little bit better. Sometimes.”
He nodded in bemused agreement.
“Speaking of racists and homophobes, let’s go meet Mr. Durant,” he suggested with a toothy grin. His teeth were very white against his dark skin. Thomas’ family was from Burkina Faso, I’d learned during our quick introduction. Like me, he was hired because he spoke native French.
“Great,” I replied with an eye roll. “And is he really?”
“Malheureusement, oui,” Thomas replied in French as we travelled down another indistinguishable hallway to a sunroom. Sadly, yes.
Alexander Durant looked pretty alright for a man in his eighties. His doctor (and my boss), Dr. Mathieu, told me on the phone that Alexander had mild arthritis, moderate dementia, and severe cataracts. He mostly needed someone to supervise his medication and keep up his routine.
“T'es qui?” Alexander asked me instantly. His tone was suspicious and unfriendly. Who are you?
I stood up straight and tugged at the hem of my dark red scrubs. I was glad I’d worn them on the plane, so I’d have them on as soon as I arrived. I might be only twenty-two, but I was a licensed professional and wanted to look that way.
“Bonjour Monsieur Durant,” I told him, standing in a sunbeam so he’d be able to see me as well as possible. “Je m’appelle Eva. Je suis votre nouvelle infirmière.”
Hello Mr. Durant. I’m Eva. I’m your new nurse.
“Where’s Stephen?” Alexander asked me in deeply accented English. He said Stephen’s name as Stefan and his gaze pinged back and forth between me and Thomas. “Is he sick today?”
“Alexander’s having a good day memory-wise,” Thomas whispered in my ear. Then, to Alexander, he said, “Stephen will be back tomorrow. He’s just got an appointment today.”
Stephen would not, in fact, be back tomorrow. He would not be back ever. According to the other members of the staff, my predecessor quit abruptly and moved out in the middle of the night. His note had said he’d had enough.
Alexander nodded and gestured dismissively at Thomas. Thomas rolled his eyes. The two stared at one another for a second before Alexander sighed and turned his attention to me.
“Ton français est plutôt bon, Eva,” Alexander said. He squinted through his cataracts at me. “D'où est-tu?”
Your French is pretty good. Where are you from?
“Wisconsin, mais j'ai grandi en Belgique. Mon père est dans l'armée.”
Wisconsin, but I grew up in Belgium. My father is in the army.
“Oh, I love Belgium,” Alexander explained in French. “I used to spend my summers there as a young man. My brother fought there during the Great War, too. He was a commander of the Colonial Legion at Ypres. He survived the German gas attack, but he was blind after…”
Alexander trailed off in thought. He looked out the window and blinked into the light repeatedly. Thomas and I exchanged a look and he shrugged.
“He does this more and more,” Thomas explained in a low voice. “It’s like he forgets what he’s talking about midstream.”
That was troubling. If his short-term memory was really deteriorating so quickly that he lost track of his own words, Alexander may need around the clock supervision soon from a more specialized group of caregivers. Mrs. Breyer had made her desire to keep care in the home as much as possible, but she could be underestimating the progression of her father’s Alzheimer’s disease. The farther the disease progressed, the harder it was to make changes in his care and the staff that supported him. It was better to try and get a long-term plan in place as early as possible. I made a mental note to discuss it with Dr. Mathieu. Perhaps a medication adjustment would help.
“Monsieur Durant?” I ventured.
“T'es qui?” Alexander said sharply. He looked at me as if I’d appeared out of thin air.
Who are you?
I took a deep breath. I’d worked with Alzheimer’s patients during my rotations in college, but never in depth. Yes, this would be hard. Yes, I was overwhelmed. But I could do this. Caring for people, making a difference in the world by reducing suffering one person at a time, this was what I lived for. Rita was right; it would just take time for me to adjust.
Teaser: Charlie
Two weeks later I paid a visit to the Durant mansion to find Eva. I saw her before she saw me. The gorgeous girl wearing the tremendously ugly, pink hummingbird patterned scrubs was still a fucking knockout. She had filled out considerably in all the right places since I was in law school. “Eva’s the new nurse,” Richard told me in his usual, brusque fashion. He hadn’t asked if I knew her already or had encountered her at the funeral, and I hadn’t volunteered the information. “Eva Martin. You need to talk to her, so she can get you the records to put you on the right path. Real cute, brown hair, blue eyes, young. You can’t miss her.”
He was right. I couldn’t. No red-blooded heterosexual man could miss Eva. Not with that ass. I was surprised, but glad, that Richard hadn’t commented on the ass.
She was still on the petite side—perhaps five three—but perfectly proportioned. Even in bland, oversized scrubs, she still managed to look criminally hot.
I was shamelessly gawking. I hadn’t felt attraction to someone in so long—or even had time to notice its absence— that it took me a second to figure out what I was feeling. The sensation cascaded through my brain in a dizzying flood that left me weak in the knees and short of breath. She was cute before but… but now? She’s a complete and total smoke show.
“Eva?” I asked. My voice came out weaker and more desperate than I intended.
She didn’t reply.
Confused, I noticed she was wearing headphones in her ears. I shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and cleared my throat.
Nothing.
She was completely absorbed in her task. Her deft fingers sorted the pills from their bottles into a weekly organizer with the sort of skill and efficiency that only came from practice. She was humming absently and clearly had no idea that she wasn’t alone.
“Ahem. Eva?” I asked again, louder this time. I even waved my hands uselessly to try and get her attention.
She continued sorting pills.
Finally, I reached out to touch her shoulder. Before I even made contact with her narrow, hummingbird-clad arm, she saw the shadow and jumped about a foot off the ground. The medication she was organizing flew everywhere on her tray.
Her wide blue eyes were accusatory and scared when they met mine. We stared at one another for a long moment in the quiet sunroom where the elder Alexander spent most of his time. I hadn’t meant to startle her. I bent down and picked up the orange pill bottle that had rolled against my shoe and extended it out to her. She accepted it wordlessly and pulled her earbuds out.
“You really scared me Charlie,” Eva finally said. Her voice was smokier and sultrier than her innocent face would suggest. She had the sexiest voice I’d ever heard. Her full pink lips were dra
wn into a pout, and her milky skin was flushed. Her expression made me feel like I’d just run over her cat or something. I felt irrationally guilty.
“Sorry,” I managed. “Are you ok?”
She nodded and stared with wide, blue eyes. Had Richard not told her I was coming? He said that he would. The last thing I needed was Eva telling Dylan I’d been a creep. Maybe she forgot about me. I cleared my throat.
“I’m here in my, um, professional capacity,” I said, extending a hand that she stared at with obvious confusion. “I’m an attorney at Clark and Jeffries. You know, where Dylan and I work? Did Richard tell you I’d be stopping by?”
A smile spread over her features, transforming her from skeptical to amused. Through my awkwardness, I felt a matching smile threatening to break out on my own face. Her emotions appeared to be contagious.
“Are you being serious Charlie? Did you think I magically forgot who you were? I just forgot that you were coming today,” she said. “What can I do for you Mr. Townsend?” Her voice was teasing.
I mentally gave myself a little shake to break free of Eva’s spell. Time to be professional. Don’t say anything inappropriate. Like the truth.
“I’m Charlie, you know that. I’m always Charlie to you. I’m sorry I’m being so weird. I was hoping you’d help me with a project I’m working on for Richard and Alexander Jr.,” I told her.
“Sure. What sort of project?” She asked. “I’ve only been here for two weeks, and I don’t know anything about legal stuff, but I’ll help if I can.”
She shrugged her narrow shoulders and I attempted not to look at the outline of her round, perky tits. I failed.
“I’m looking for all of the medical records on Edith Durant,” I explained, dragging my gaze back to Eva’s equally alluring, huge blue eyes. “I’m working on wrapping up her affairs. You know, all the boring paperwork.”
Partial truths are easier to tell than lies. And much easier to remember.
Eva cocked her head at me in apparent confusion.
“I was never involved in Edith’s care,” she said slowly. I suspected she thought I still might be somewhat confused. “I understand she had been ill for a while, but my first day was after she’d already died…”
I nodded. I knew that. I’d been there.
“Richard told me you care for and update the records for his father. He said Edith’s records should be stored in the same place.”
Eva’s expression softened when I mentioned her patient. She clearly had some affection for him. No one else I’d met over the last few years did. The eldest Alexander was almost universally feared by his legal team and formal business associates, and even his own family seemed to view him with a degree of suspicion and dislike.
“Ok,” she told me. “I didn’t know Edith and of course Alexander can’t remember her passing, but I’m sure it’s a big job to wrap up her affairs. I’ll show you where everything medical is kept. I haven’t gone through the whole cabinet yet, but we can look together.”
Eva led me out of the sunroom and down a set of hallways. Despite having worked for the Durant family for more than four years, I’d never been in this section of the mansion. I’d probably only seen twenty percent of it. This place was so vast that I suspected there were areas no one had visited in years.
“How do you keep from getting lost in here?” I asked Eva as we walked. Her shoes—godawful, sensible, floral printed Crocs that clashed with her scrubs—made no noise on the marble. My dress shoes clicked loudly.
She looked sidelong at my question.
“It’s a work in progress,” Eva confessed with a little sigh. “The only way I’ve been able to find my room is with landmarks. I’m trying to memorize all the paintings.”
The hallway we were walking down had a number of bland, fuzzy-looking landscapes on the wall. I made a mental note as the hallway emptied into a parlor that had been filled with file cabinets. Boring landscapes=medical records.
“Do you know what year Edith’s treatment started?” Eva asked.
“Um, let me check,” I said, fishing out my phone and quickly sorting through my emails. “She was born in 1969.”
“You want all of her records?” Eva asked, and I nodded. “You had better grab one of those boxes over there.”
By the time that Eva and I had gathered up the records for the first three decades of Edith’s life, we had filled three banker’s boxes.
“There are gaps in her treatment,” Eva remarked as she loaded the files. “From 1974 to 1976 and then again from 1990 to 1992. There’s also nothing from the last five years.”
“Maybe she was institutionalized?” I suggested.
“There are copies of all her other inpatient treatments,” Eva said doubtfully. We had both been glancing at the files, but I didn’t really know what I was looking at. It seemed Eva did, and she was detail oriented enough to notice the gaps. I should have noticed but being alone with Eva in this file room was distracting me. She kept bending over to put the records in the boxes and it was killing me. Her tone turned teasing again. “Also, it’s not politically correct to call them mental institutions anymore.”
I rolled my eyes. I could not give less of a shit about political correctness. Unless I was being paid to care, that is.
“Yeah but this record says she was literally treated with electroshock therapy,” I replied. I’m sure I looked as incredulous as I felt. “Isn’t that what people get in horror movies about insane asylums? Pretty medieval stuff right?”
To my surprise, Eva peeked over my shoulder and then shook her head.
“Sure, but what you’re looking at there isn’t what you think at all. Electroconvulsive therapy, ECT, like what she received in 1995 to treat her catatonic episode… it can be very effective. The procedure is done under general anesthesia. It doesn’t hurt. The patient shouldn’t even be aware of it. The electricity triggers a small seizure that alters the brain chemistry. It can quickly reverse symptoms of some mental illnesses when other treatments are unsuccessful. Early ECT was painful and dangerous, and it was used abusively sometimes, but it’s much safer now.”
I frowned. Eva clearly knew more about this than me. Which made sense. She was nurse. I bet I knew way more about law stuff than her. Still…
“Electroshock isn’t torture?”
She shook her head again.
“Not anymore. Mentally ill people are treated a lot better now than they used to be. We’ve moved away from locking them up like an embarrassing secret.”
Society and medicine may have moved away from that. I wasn’t so sure the Durant family had.
“Why would the records be missing then?” I asked her. “If she wasn’t hospitalized, or even if she was, Edith had to be somewhere. She’s never lived independently according to Richard. She was under her family’s care her whole life. I need to gather all of the records... I’m especially concerned that the last five years aren’t here.”
Eva shrugged, but it wasn’t a “that’s your problem” shrug. She looked through the file cabinet again, but it was empty of further records.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I can ask Thomas and Dr. Mathieu…”
“Eva— where are you? He’s having another episode!” A man’s urgent voice came through the walkie-talkie clipped to Eva’s waist. Eva and I exchanged a shocked look.
“On my way!” She said into the device. “This is the last record,” Eva told me, handing over a folder before double-checking the cabinet and then shutting and locking it. “I gotta go right now. He gets confused sometimes and it makes him angry. Then he acts out.”
She made the billionaire patriarch sound like a naughty toddler.
“Ok thanks. Um, how do I get out of here?” I asked Eva, looking at the three boxes and the doorway that led to the dark hallway behind. Eva was already headed that direction.
“Impressionist landscape hallway to cubism hallway. Turn left at neoclassical architectural drawings and left at Dadaism. Then it
’s straight to the main entrance. Follow the sound of basketball if you get lost!”
I heard the distant sound of glass breaking and Eva did a double take toward the sound. She took off running down the hallway, her long braid flying behind her like a pennant. Her ass twitched back and forth as she went.
“Nice seeing you Charlie!” She yelled over her shoulder.
Now alone in the silent file room, I pulled out my phone and began googling Dadaism. I’d save the search on Eva for later in my apartment.
With Dr. Matthieu out of town and Eva as the only credentialed nurse available, I was going to need her help in putting together all the records required for the insurance claim Richard needed filed. I could already see myself hanging around with my best friend’s sexy little sister for several days for this project—what could go wrong?
Click here to keep reading ‘Never Say Never’!
Also by Taylor Holloway
Prequel to Scions of Sin
Never Say Never - Charlie
Scions of Sin
Bleeding Heart - Alexander
Kiss and Tell - Nathan
Down and Dirty - Nicholas
Lost and Found - David
Lost and Found (Scions of Sin Book 4) Page 25
