TRACE (The TRACE Series, #1)
Page 1
TRACE
Part One
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
Deborah Bladon
Copyright
First Original Edition, February 2015
Copyright © 2015 by Deborah Bladon
ISBN: 9781926440200
Cover Design by Wolf & Eagle Media
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations either are the product of the author's imagination or are used factiously.
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.
Also by Deborah Bladon
The Obsessed Series
The Exposed Series
The Pulse Series
The VAIN Series
The RUIN Series
IMPULSE
SOLO
The GONE Series
FUSE
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Thank You
Subscribe to Deborah’s Mailing List
About the Author
Chapter 1
"There's a word for men like you." I try to sound as civilized as I can.
"Handsome?"
I look to the left to avoid eye contact with him. The man is devastatingly handsome. I can't say I'm surprised he realizes it. "No."
"Charming?"
I glance at his face. He's smirking at me. He's actually standing in front of me, smirking. "No."
"Well-hung?" His gaze drops down to the front of the hospital gown he's wearing.
In instances like this I need to be professional. I'm a nurse. I've been trained to deal with virtually every possible medical scenario and to keep my composure. If my eyes follow the path of his, there's no telling what I'm going to see. "No."
"You didn't even look," he teases. "Your eyes haven't left my face even though I'm here because I have a pain in my ass."
It's too easy. He's handing it right to me on a silver platter but I'm on duty so I can't react at all.
"Mr. Ryan." I glance down at the chart in my hand. "I get that you can't sit on the exam table because of the pain in your backside, but you need to stay within this cubicle. Dr. Foster is going to be here shortly and if you're out roaming the corridor, it's just going to prolong the process."
"It's Garrett." His eyes settle on my nametag. "Vanessa, I'm in a lot of pain here."
"What exactly happened to you?" I already know the answer to the question. He crashed his bike and knocked himself out cold. It's worth hearing how he'll put a spin on it though. According to his chart he's a lawyer. Every lawyer I've ever known blurs the line between fact and fiction effortlessly.
"I was riding my bike in Central Park this morning." He shifts on his feet slightly. "I like to do that to keep in shape."
"It's important to exercise." I don't look up from his chart.
"I was riding along and turned a corner and that's when I saw them." He shakes slightly.
If he falls over on my watch, I'm going to need to write up a report and I hate writing up reports. "Maybe you should lean against the exam table."
He nods as he pushes his hand against it. "I was riding and I saw them, and after that everything went black."
"The paramedics that brought you in said you hit a tree." I wince at the image of that. "They said you were lucky you were wearing a helmet."
"I could have been luckier."
"How so?" I turn towards the curtain. Dr. Foster should have been in here by now. I'm going to need to find him.
"If I would have caught what I was chasing when I crashed, I would have been the luckiest guy in Manhattan."
"What were you chasing when you crashed?" I lean in waiting to hear the part of the story everyone in admitting has been dying to know. How does a grown man veer so far off the assigned bicycle path that he hits a huge tree head-on?
"I was chasing the most perfect pair of tits I've seen in a long time."
"Are you serious?" I lean closer to have a look at his eyes.
"I'm dead serious." His hands bolt to the air in front of him. "They were round and plump. She was jogging on the path and I saw them bounce and then they bounced again."
"That's just..." my voice trails because anything I want to say may result in my being suspended. Offending a patient is a definite no-no and I've already had two warnings. I only have one more before I'm out the door for good.
"I'm going to get Dr. Foster." The sooner we get this guy out of here the better.
"Her tits can't compare to your ass, Vanessa. It's seriously the best looking ass I've ever seen."
I can't resist. I know that there's a chance I'm going to regret this but I do it anyway. "No, I'd disagree with that."
"You can't." He shakes his head slightly even though it's the worst possible thing for him to do after slamming it into a tree. "I'm an ass man and your ass is the best looking one I've ever come across."
"Actually." I take a step closer to him. "You're the best looking ass I've ever come across. No, wait. That came out wrong."
He starts to turn to reveal his naked ass beneath the hospital gown.
"I meant to say that you're an asshole," I spit out through clenched teeth.
"Nurse Meyer?"
I don't need to turn to recognize that voice. It's Dr. Foster. That only and only chance I had left to keep my job just disappeared into thin air.
I look down at the floor. I feel him brush past me as he walks into the exam room. I brace myself when I see his black shoes stop almost directly in front of me.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Foster." I exhale softly as I level my gaze on him. I don't grovel. It's not something I normally do but I need to pay my rent and New York is an incredibly expensive city to live in so if I have to beg to keep my job here, I'm going to do it. I know that Dr. Ben Foster is a compassionate man. I've seen it myself. Right now, I just need him to throw some of that benevolence in my direction.
"I need a moment in the corridor, Nurse Meyer." There isn't an ounce of anger in his voice as he turns to look at the patient. "Garrett, what are you doing here?"
"Ben?" Garrett's brows pop up.
I watch the back of his head as he nods once before his hand flies into the air. "Sit down. I'll be right back."
***
Dr. Foster knows the patient. My luck can't get any worse. I know that he heard me call Garrett Ryan an asshole. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the emergency department heard it. I didn't tone it down at all.
"Before you say anything, Ben," I begin as I look up into his kind face. "He's been belligerent since they brought him in."
His eyes focus over my head at where another nurse is standing in the corridor. "You're hanging by a thread here, Vanessa. We've talked about this in the past."
We have. I love my job. I've never wanted to be anything but a registered nurse, but since I've been thrown into the emergency room, I've seen things I couldn't have imagined. I lost it two months ago on a guy my age who had shaken his baby daughter so hard that she was still recovering in intensive care. His cava
lier attitude about her injuries and his frantic attempt to leave the hospital resulted in me wrestling him to the ground. The police thanked me for restraining him but my supervisor wasn't quite as complimentary.
"I have been trying to take his vitals since they brought him in," I say quietly. "I urged him to remain still and he kept getting up from the exam table, so I gave up. He's more than a foot taller than I am and he's at least a hundred pounds heavier. The man is as solid as a brick wall."
"Why didn't you call for another nurse?"
It's a logical question and it's not one that I expect him to know the answer to. He's overworked, just as every doctor in this emergency department is. "We're short staffed today, Ben. I called but no one came."
"He's a friend of mine, Vanessa. What was with the asshole comment?" he whispers the question as he leans in close to me. "Where did that come from?"
I don’t know Ben well enough to tell him word-for-word what his friend said to me. I'm not about to start talking about tits and ass in the middle of this bustling hallway. "He made some sexist remarks."
"Garrett did?" His brow cocks.
He doesn't believe me. I see it in his eyes. "He's arrogant, Ben. He wouldn’t let me exam him. He sent the lab tech running out of the room when he tried to draw his blood. He's incredibly uncooperative."
"Why is he even here?" He glances down at the tablet in his hand. "What's wrong with him?"
"He ran his bike into a tree." I shrug my shoulder. I'm going to leave the details about the tit chasing up to Garrett.
"I need to get back in there, but be more careful." He pats his hand on my shoulder. "I'm not giving you a warning, but anyone else would."
I nod just as Ben pulls the curtain open with a flourish to reveal Garrett Ryan falling face first onto the hard, tiled floor with a thud.
***
"I'm impressed, Vanessa." I feel Ben's hand on my shoulder. "You were a real asset earlier."
I was too shocked to do anything but let my training guide me. The sickening sound of Garrett's head hitting the hard tile floor keeps replaying in my mind. The blood that was flowing rapidly out of his nose when Ben turned his head to the side was jarring, but more than that, the evident edge of panic in Ben's voice when he was trying to get his friend to open his eyes was disorienting. I've never seen the impenetrable façade of Ben Foster break until today.
"Is he going to be okay?" I hang my head towards the floor. After two other male doctors had rushed into the room, they were able to lift Garrett onto the exam table. I stood by, assisting Ben with whatever I could, even though now, three hours later, I'm still shaking as much as I was then.
He lowers himself into the chair next to me in the nurse's lounge. "He'll be fine. He didn't suffer a concussion or any broken bones from either incident. There are a few lacerations on his face but nothing that will be permanent. His blood sugar was dangerously low. That's why he fainted."
"I should have been more insistent on having his blood drawn." I push the toes of my shoes together. "I would have realized before he fell."
"I spoke to the paramedics who brought him in earlier." He pats my knee. "They had a hell of a ride over here with him."
I curb the urge to chuckle because I can only imagine what went on inside that ambulance. I was in admitting when they wheeled him into the ER. I watched, along with two other nurses, as Garrett jumped off the stretcher when the paramedics turned their backs. He didn't want to be here but the insistence of the nurse in charge had been enough to convince him that a doctor had to look him over. The man thinks he's made of steel.
"I'm glad he'll be okay." I whisper with a small, weak smile. "I didn't realize you two were friends when they brought him in."
His gaze meets mine. "He's one of the good ones. We met at a mutual friend's engagement party. Her name is Lilly. Garrett is her attorney."
"I read in his chart that he's a lawyer." I turn my head to look at him.
"He helps with the foundation. He does all of our legal stuff for us pro bono. I've never met a nicer guy."
He's talking about the Foster Foundation. Ben and his twin brother, Noah, established it in honor of their late mother. It provides medical care for anyone who can't afford it. It began as a small project and has since taken on a life of its own. Just last month, a national news crew was in here, interviewing Ben so they could showcase the good work he does.
"I had no idea he even knew you," I say truthfully. "I wouldn't have pegged you two as friends."
"Why not?"
I scratch my cheek as I weigh my question. Bringing up what Garrett said to me serves no purpose at this point. He's tucked safely away in a bed on the third floor and it's likely by this time tomorrow, he'll be at home resting comfortably. I'll never see the man again.
"You two seem very different," I offer before I continue. "I'm just happy that he'll be alright."
"I'm going back up to see him before I leave for the day." He leisurely rises to his feet. "Do you want to come with me? He was asking about you."
"About me? Why would he ask about me?"
"I don't know." His eyes narrow. "He just said that he needed to see the beautiful nurse from the ER."
"That could be anyone." I stand and adjust the left leg of my pants over my shoe. "He wasn't exactly lucid when I was trying to help him. I doubt he remembers me at all."
I say it as much out of hope as belief. I don't want Garrett to remember me. I'm optimistic that his face first fall into the floor will erase from his memory what I said to him. He's an attorney. If he goes to the hospital board with a complaint about me, my job is history.
"He remembers." He turns to walk out of the lounge. "He told me he remembers everything about you."
Chapter 2
I'm on the third floor. Visiting hours are over. My shift is over too. It's actually been over for more than an hour but I hung around in the cafeteria debating whether I should go see what Garrett Ryan wants.
In a perfect world, I want him to forget about me and about what I said. Internally I feel justified for calling him an asshole, but there's no way in hell my supervisor, or the administrative board, would view the situation the same way I do. If he reports me, I'm going to be out on the street and trying to find another nursing job won't be easy.
"Vanessa," Carla calls to me as soon as I exit the elevator. "What are you doing up here?"
Carla was the first friendly face I saw when I started working here. She was working in the ER then and fortunately, our shifts almost always overlapped. We hit it off instantly and when she told me that her and her roommate needed a third wheel to make rent, I'd jumped at the chance. It got me out of my small apartment in Brooklyn. Living in Manhattan may be expensive but I'm close enough to walk to the hospital every day and I get to hang out with Carla whenever our shifts allow it.
"There's a patient in your ward." I gesture down the dimly lit hallway. "He was in the ER earlier. I thought I'd check on him."
"Garrett Ryan," she slides his name over her lips with a purr. "That's the one, right?"
If my mouth isn't hanging open, it should be. "Why would you think I'm up here because of him?"
"Let me count the ways," she begins before she taps her index finger on her forearm. "The man is absolutely drop dead gorgeous. That's reasons one through five."
"Very funny."
"Reason number six is because of his voice. Have you ever heard a voice like that? Number seven is because he's single."
That tidbit of information doesn't surprise me at all given the fact that he was on a breast catching mission when he rammed his bike into a tree. "I assumed he was single."
"Number eight is because he's a lawyer? Have you ever seen a lawyer in that great shape?"
I shake my head slightly. "I can't say that I have."
"I caught a glimpse of what's under his hospital gown earlier when he was walking down the hallway, " she lowers her voice to a whisper as she leans in close to me. "That's either reason
number nine or it could even be ten. If you know what I mean."
I know what she means. I have no doubt what she means judging by the way she's holding her hands almost a foot apart and nodding with a cocked brow. "I don't care what's under his hospital gown."
"Then why are you up here?" She pushes against my shoulder with her hand. "You're just like the rest of us. You want a moment to bask in all his masculine glory."
Technically I want a moment to convince him not to report me. "I actually just wanted to talk to him about something that happened when he was in the ER."
"What happened?"
I can tell by her tone that she's craving a juicy piece of gossip she can share on her coffee break tonight.
"Nothing," I shrug it off. "I just needed clarification on something for one of my reports. I'll just talk to him briefly."
"You can't." She gestures down the hallway with a tip of her chin. "Ben prescribed a sedative to keep him quiet. He's sleeping like a baby."
Great, that's just fucking great. The man who holds the power to ruin my career is tucked away in dreamland while I'm living in the nightmare of not knowing what his next move will be.
***
"How's your friend?" I ask as I settle into a chair next to Ben in the cafeteria. I should know the answer myself but when I went up to the third floor before my shift started two hours ago, Garrett wasn't there. The charge nurse told me they'd taken him for more x-rays and although I'd hung around hoping to talk to him, I had to bail. I couldn't be late for work.
"He's good." He grins as he looks up at me. "He'll be discharged today."
"Did you see him this morning?"
He pushes a rectangular, disposable plastic tray of fruit towards me. "Do you want some?"
I reach across to snag a piece of an apple. "Thanks. I'm glad he's going home today."
"Not as glad as he is." He pops a grape into his mouth. "He was back to normal this morning. His glucose levels are stable and there are no signs of head trauma so he's good to go."
I breathe an audible sigh of relief. If Garrett leaves the hospital without mentioning what happened between us yesterday to any of my superiors, I may be able to escape with my job.