“How long ago did it happen?” Jess asked the man sharply.
He looked up at her blurry-eyed and didn’t answer.
“When?” she shouted at him.
“A few minutes ago. Right before you came along,” he choked out. “Just now.”
“I’ll steady her neck,” Jessica said to Ben. “You roll her.” She had to start CPR.
Jess steadied the woman neck by sandwiching her head between her forearms. It was an awkward position, but she couldn’t leave the woman lying there with no pulse or oxygen intake.
Ben log-rolled her easily and Jessica quickly got into position. In the distance she heard a siren.
“I need light,” she said, trying to see what was going on with the woman’s face, particularly her mouth. Hopefully there were no injuries that would prevent air exchange during CPR. “There’s a flashlight in the glove compartment.”
Mere seconds later Ben knelt beside her again with the large flashlight.
He shone the light on the woman’s face, knowing what Jessica needed without her instruction.
The left side of the woman’s face was bloody, a gash in her temple was oozing and several abrasions showed from ear to chin. There were tiny pieces of gravel in the wounds as if she’d scraped her face along the side of the road. The outside of her mouth was clear.
Jessica parted the woman’s lips and Ben angled the light into her mouth. It also looked clear.
She bent to breathe into the woman’s mouth, then began chest compressions. She was in the middle of the cycle when they heard the sound of something hitting the ground.
She kept count as she looked over her shoulder. The man had crumpled.
“You take care of him, I’ve got this,” Ben said, moving in next to her, ready to take over at the next cycle.
Jessica paused and breathed, then looked up at Ben sharply. “No. I’m fine.”
The sirens grew nearer and Jessica recognized the sound as a police car.
“Jessica, I’ll help.” Ben insisted, positioning his hands on the woman’s chest next to Jessica’s.
“No!” She pushed against him with her shoulder, but had to immediately return to the compressions.
“Why not?”
She paused and gave the woman two breaths.
“You’ve been drinking all night!”
“I’m fine.”
She finished the third cycle of compressions and bent to breathe again and his hands positioned where hers had been. She delivered the breaths, then tried to put her hands back on the woman’s chest. “No, Ben.” She fought the panic. She couldn’t trust him now. This woman’s life was at stake and he was intoxicated.
“For God’s sake…”
She shoved against him. “No!” she shouted.
He removed his hands and sat back on his heels. She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want it to be this way. But this woman’s life was her responsibility.
Ben went over to the man and checked on him. He was, evidently, breathing because Ben returned to her side. But he said nothing. Just sat there, a heavy presence. It was good that these tasks were routine for her.
The police car arrived a few minutes later, siren blaring, lights flashing.
“What’s going on?”
Two police officers approached with flashlights as Jessica finished another cycle. Ben said nothing and the silence from him seemed louder than anything he could have shouted.
“I’m a nurse,” Jess said. “We came upon the accident a few minutes ago. Pedestrian hit by the truck. No pulse, no breathing. CPR times four minutes.”
“What’s with the guy?”
“Truck driver,” Jess answered. “Fainted about a minute ago.” She glanced in Ben’s direction. “His vitals are strong.” She assumed Ben would correct her if it wasn’t true.
“You okay there?” one of the cops asked her.
She heard Ben shift behind her, but didn’t look at him. She delivered two breaths, then answered, “Yes.”
One officer moved toward the man and knelt to pull the guy’s wallet from his back pocket, while the other went to examine the truck.
The ambulance arrived a minute later, the crew bailing out immediately.
Derek Williams was the first to the victim.
“Jess?” Her brother’s friend was clearly shocked to see her. He dropped his gear. “Ben?”
“Hi, Derek.” Jessica continued the compressions as Ben got to his feet.
“What’s the story?” Derek asked Ben. In spite of his surprise, and interest, in seeing Jessica and Ben together, it was business first.
“You’ll have to ask Jessica.”
Derek looked at Jessica as she raised her head from the victim. The woman still wasn’t breathing.
Jessica gave him the scenario, after gratefully surrendering the CPR to one of Derek’s crew members, Mike.
“Lookin’ good, Jess,” Mike commented as he took over.
“Thanks.” She got to her feet and rolled her neck.
“What’s up with the driver?” Derek asked Ben, obviously assuming they had each taken a victim.
“He’s fine,” Ben said shortly. “Received no treatment.”
“Any orders, Doc?” Derek asked, gesturing toward the woman.
“Jess?” Ben asked, looking at her.
She glared at him. “Ben’s been drinking. I’m not sure he’s in a position to give orders about medical treatment.”
Derek’s eyebrows nearly disappeared under his hairline and his eyes were wide with surprise.
“Oookay,” he said slowly.
“You weren’t involved…in the accident, I mean?” one of the police officers asked as he approached.
“No. I was driving,” Jess said.
“You were on your way…?” the cop asked.
“To his place.”
Derek said nothing, but looked at them each thoughtfully. That’s when he seemed to notice his friend’s sister fully.
“Nice…dress.”
She sighed. Derek was just one more person who she’d only known in the past ten years, and who couldn’t imagine the Jessica Bradford he knew owning or wearing something like this. She was sure Derek was going to have all kinds of questions and comments for Sam later. “Thanks. Can we go?”
“Yeah, we’ve got it,” Derek answered.
They were already hoisting the woman into the back of the ambulance on a stretcher.
“Let me know how she turns out.”
“Sure thing.”
Ben and Jessica each gave statements to the police, then were free to go.
They went back to Jessica’s car and she started to climb in. She was dreading the drive now. Ben was obviously angry with her. But dammit…
She paused with one foot in the car, one still on the ground and pointed a finger at him over the top of the car. “You were in no condition to treat that woman and you know it!”
Ben didn’t seem surprised by her outburst. “I’m a physician,” he said coolly.
“Who had too much to drink.” She pulled her foot from the car and put it securely on the ground.
He stared at her. “I’ve operated after thirty-two hours with no sleep, with a head cold, and a sore thumb. CPR is like reciting the ABCs for me; I can do it while juggling and balancing on one leg.”
She was shaking her head by the time he finished. “No. That was all that was keeping that woman alive, Ben. The second I pulled over on the side of the road, she was my responsibility. Believe me, I would have loved to have your help, but you could have screwed it all up. Thank God one of us was sober.”
Ben stared at her. “Why are you so pissed off?”
“Because part of being an emergency professional is knowing when you’re not up to it,” she snapped.
“Why are you so pissed off about this whole night? You’ve acted…” He frowned and leaned his forearms onto the top of the car, watching her carefully. “You’ve acted disappointed, all night. Like my
mother used to when I stayed out past curfew or cussed in front of my great aunt.”
Jessica crossed her arms and fought to keep her expression composed. He’d hit it right on the head. She was disappointed in him. Not just in how he’d been acting, but in the fact that she couldn’t depend on him in a situation so like the ones that had put him on her pedestal in the first place.
“You certainly didn’t act like a brilliant young professional who saves lives for a living tonight, did you?”
“You’re talking about my job. Not who I am twenty-four hours a day.”
She looked at a spot over his right shoulder. She didn’t understand that. Being a physician, the sacrifice and dedication that took, was a part of them. Maybe Ben wasn’t who she thought he was.
“Your job is pretty much full-time, all the time, for you though, isn’t it?”
She still didn’t look at him. “So?”
He sighed. “So, I want a break once in a while. Once in a while I want to let loose, get drunk and not worry about it. What’s wrong with that?”
“You never know when someone might need you,” she retorted, gesturing toward the spot where the woman had lain just minutes before.
“Exactly!” he said, somewhat triumphantly. “I don’t want to be needed all the damn time.”
She stared at him. What was going on with him? This didn’t sound like the man she thought she knew.
She frowned at him. “You don’t mean that.”
“The hell I don’t,” he shot back.
“Well.” She wasn’t sure what to say to him. She didn’t know what was going on tonight, but tomorrow would be different. It would be better in sober daylight after a good night’s sleep.
“You’re obviously still drunk.” She slid behind the wheel and slammed her car door shut. By the time Ben joined her in the car, she had the engine running and the radio loud enough that talking was impossible.
Twenty minutes later, Jessica pulled up in front of Ben’s apartment building. She hadn’t asked him for directions. Sam also lived in the complex and had pointed Ben’s place out to her once when she was dropping him off.
She and Ben hadn’t spoken again. She was both mourning and celebrating that the evening was almost over.
She’d had high expectations for the night with Ben. With the flirting and innuendos it had felt almost like a date at some points inside the bar. But the celebration was in knowing that as of tomorrow Ben would be back to his normal self and she could return to her state of infatuation. Granted, the crush would return to being from afar but better that than…disappointed.
She kept the car running in the parking spot.
“Do you have your key?” she asked.
Ben pulled it from his front pocket and jingled it for her. “Of course.” He paused, then asked, “Have you ever forgotten your key to anything?”
What a weird question. “Sure.” She shrugged. “But I have spares for everything.”
“Spares,” Ben repeated. “As in more than one?”
She gave him a puzzled frown. “Two.”
“For each thing?”
“Yes.”
He stared at her.
“What?” she exclaimed.
“Have you ever had to use your spares?”
Jessica thought about that. “I don’t think so.”
Ben shook his head with a smile, but didn’t comment.
So, he thought she was…fastidious. It was nothing she hadn’t heard before. Still, she wondered how Ben felt about it. Did he honestly like wild and free or was that the beer talking?
Irritated for some reason she couldn’t fully explain, she asked, “Do you remember which apartment number is yours?”
“There’re lots of pretty girls in this building that would let me in if I get lost.”
She was absolutely certain he was right.
“Then I won’t worry about you.” She knew she sounded huffy.
He had one leg swung out of the open car door, but turned back. “You’re coming in, right?”
Surprised, she shook her head. “No.”
He brought his leg back into the car. “Forty-eight hours. You promised.”
“You still want me to do…that?”
“How else am I going to prove to you that I’m a good guy in spite of the beer?”
Oh, she wanted to stay. “I don’t know if I should…”
“Jess, you always do the right thing. The right thing to do is keep your word. You can’t go back on a promise. Can you?”
She did know he was teasing her. It was just an excuse to get her to do what he wanted her to do.
But it was a pretty good excuse.
“Okay.” She shut off the car and reached in the backseat for her duffle bag.
Ben was watching her curiously when she slammed the door shut.
“You keep a bag in your car in case guys ask you back to their places?”
“I had planned to go to the gym after work but opted for a mound of ice cream instead.”
Her tendency to eat instead of exercise when stressed had turned out to be fortunate. Not a big motivation to kick up her workouts to five days a week, but at least she had a change of clothes and all the shower supplies she would need. She didn’t wear much makeup anyway. Besides, Ben had seen her at work, covered in blood and mud…and worse. And he’d seen her tonight. She hoped the dress, makeup and hair she’d put on for that evening would linger in his memory for at least a few days.
Ben took the bag from her without another comment and started toward the building.
“Jessica?” Ben asked as they climbed the steps to the front door.
“Yeah?” She was half holding her breath as she followed him. She was going to be spending the night in Ben’s apartment. Not exactly the way the scenario had played out in her imagination, but still…
“Have you ever gone home with a guy from a bar?”
She froze mid-step. His hand was on the handle but he didn’t move to open it.
“Does it matter?” she asked, hoping her voice sounded funny only to her.
“You mean is there anything you can say that would make me not want you to come inside?” He smiled without waiting for an answer. “No way.”
How he managed to make her melt each time he looked at her that way, she didn’t know. But it happened again.
She shrugged. If she lied to him and the truth came out later, would it ruin something that might start tonight? But if she told the truth, would it ruin something before it even had a chance to start? He said there wasn’t anything that she could say that would make him not want her here. She decided to test him.
“Yes, I have gone home with a guy from a bar before.”
He leaned in and looked at her closely. “I’m not talking about being the designated driver.”
She wrinkled her nose at him, hiding the fact that she was relieved his assumption about her wholesomeness was going to save her from a full confession. “You didn’t specify the reason.”
He laughed and pulled open the door, ushering her in. It looked like all the time and effort she’d put in to portraying herself as a principled, conservative prude might have paid off. Not only did Ben believe the best of her morals—for now—but the idea of tempting her to the dark side seemed appealing to him.
“Hi, Jerry,” he greeted the doorman.
“Hey, Dr. T,” the older black man greeted.
At this time of night, the elevator was not in high demand, so the ride up to the fifth floor only took a few minutes. Ben opened the door to his apartment and flipped on a light before stepping back to let her precede him.
“I need to get some aspirin,” he said. “Make yourself at home.”
He headed down the hallway, toward what she assumed to be the bedroom or bathroom.
She turned into the living area and surveyed the room with surprise.
Ben’s apartment was different than she’d expected. She’d tried to picture it before, but hadn’t known Be
n well enough to truly imagine what environment he would create at home. But she’d pictured expensive taste for some reason. Probably because he was a doctor and could afford it. She’d also pictured a big-screen TV, a Nintendo and a small beer fridge in the living room, but that was likely because Ben was a friend of her brother’s.
Interestingly, Ben’s apartment had a relative lack of…well…stuff. He had one large sofa, a stereo system that looked like he bought it in college and a coffee table that could have easily been a hand-me-down from his mother or a garage sale. It held a huge stack of Newsweek magazines and medical journals.
In the eating area there was nothing. Not a table, not a chair, not even a coaster. The kitchen was similar. She assumed there were dishes in the cupboards but there were no small appliances, not a cutting board, not a dishtowel.
The only thing that even remotely decorated the apartment was a collection of art pieces and masks on the largest living room wall.
She’d seen similar displays at museums but never in a person’s apartment.
“You can have my bed.”
She whirled to find Ben standing in the arched doorway into the living room.
“What did you say?”
“You can have my bed. I have two bedrooms, but only one bed.”
Jessica’s heartbeat sped up just thinking about sleeping in Ben’s bed. Imagine what would happen to her vitals if he was going to be in there with her.
Wait a minute…
“Where are you going to sleep?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Well…”
“Ben,” she said warningly.
He grinned. “The couch. It pulls out into a bed.”
So, she’d be alone. In Ben’s bedroom. In his bed. Where he slept. Maybe naked. Surrounded by his stuff, his scent…
“I’ll take the couch,” she said quickly.
“No way. You are not sleeping on the couch.”
“You might…need to get to the bathroom quickly in the night.” She could not sleep in Ben’s bed. For one thing, there was no way she would be able to sleep.
“Jessica, I am not hungover. I’m not going to have to run to the bathroom.”
Just Right: The Bradfords, Book 1 Page 5
