Her Lucky Charm: A St. Patrick's Day Romance (A Different Kind of Love )

by Liz Durano

  We get to the garage five minutes later, and the attendant brings around a red Jeep with black trim. I don’t know, but it’s so like Kodi to get a Jeep instead of a BMW. But as I get in the passenger seat and he shuts the door, I can feel our connection waning, like a fairy tale making way for reality to settle back in.

  We don’t talk a lot on the way to my apartment. And since I usually take the subway to and from Manhattan, we have to consult the GPS to get there.

  “Just drop me off right here,” I say when the GPS tells us that he’s arrived at his destination.

  “Let me walk you inside.”

  “No, you don’t have to. Just stop right here,” I say abruptly, acutely aware that there’s a stained mattress leaning against the side of the building. Not the best representation of my neighborhood, that’s for sure. “I just need to shower and get into bed so I can make it to work tonight.”

  “You’re a nurse, right?” he asks. “What department?”

  “Intensive Care,” I reply, opening the door and stepping outside. I need to get inside. New Yorkers may not care what the locals do, but around Rego Park, my neighbors love to talk. “Anyway, thanks for driving me home.”

  “Hey, Roxy, I was wondering if we could–”

  “Thanks so much for the ride,” I blurt out. “I had a great time yesterday, but I’ve got to go. Bye.”

  I shut the door and hurry up the steps to the front door. I don’t know what Kodi was about to ask but I also don’t want to prolong an awkward moment longer than necessary. We had our fun last night and now it’s over. It’s easier that way.

  Besides, he’s out of my league and I’m better off not wasting his time.

  At the top of the stairs, I pause, realizing I’m still wearing his coat. I turn around to yell for him to stop but Kodi is already driving away.

  Chapter Two

  “Can I speak to you in my office?”

  I look up from the monitor and see Betsy Millner, my supervisor, standing across the nurse’s counter. I’ve just finished a twelve-hour evening shift, and after inputting all my notes into the system, all I want to do is go home. “Sure. Anything wrong?”

  She pauses, a faint smile on her face. “Let’s talk in my office.”

  “Let me just input the last of my patient notes, and I’ll be right there.”

  As she walks away, I glance at my fellow nurses who look at me quizzically. The only other time Betsy called me in was to discuss my tattoos and how it was company policy to keep any markings covered. I’d done my best not to have my tattoos visible, but now and then, parts of it still managed to peek out from under the neckline of my long-sleeve undershirts. Still, I can’t help but worry considering the shift today went pretty smoothly with no problems at all.

  Betsy’s door is partly open when I arrive, and she beckons me to step inside, pointing to a chair in front of her desk.

  “Is something wrong?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything right away, her attention focused on her laptop screen.

  “I wouldn’t say it’s wrong,” she says, hooking her index and middle fingers before the word wrong. “But I need to ask you something.”

  “Sure.”

  She turns her laptop around so the monitor is facing me. It’s almost a dramatic gesture, one I’m not going to dignify with a shocked expression even if the image on the screen warrants one. Someone apparently took a photo of Kodi and me yesterday, and it’s not the most flattering angle. Even though I’m wearing Kodi’s wool coat, I hadn’t yet slipped my arms into the sleeves, and so my emerald green bridesmaid’s dress with its deep V-neckline is visible, and then there’s the slit that goes up to my thigh, exposing my whole leg and a partial tattoo. Next to me, Kodi looks perfect. He’s looking off to the side, at something beyond the camera.

  “Is this you?”

  No, it’s my evil twin sister. “Yes, it is. Why?”

  As Betsy looks at me, surprised, I wonder if she really expected me to lie. But there’s no sense lying about the picture even if I’d wanted to. It reminds me of one of those tabloid pictures of celebrities. Oh, wait… isn’t Kodi essentially a celebrity?

  “This picture was posted on a website called NewYorkWalkofShame dot com as well as other websites,” she says. “We don’t tell how our employees are supposed to conduct themselves outside of this hospital, but I’m afraid this goes against the provision in your employment contract regarding activities that prove injurious to the reputation of Miller General.”

  “Excuse me, what did you say?” I almost sputter out the words. Injurious? Did I honestly injure the hospital because of that a picture?

  “It’s in the morals clause you signed when you were hired a year ago,” she says, tapping the computer mouse so the webpage on the laptop screen scrolls down and I see more pictures of myself and Kodi fill up the screen.

  “How can it be injurious? We’re just walking, minding our own business.”

  The look Betsy gives me tells me she doesn’t find my tone amusing. “You haven’t read the comments.”

  “Why would I read the comments?”

  She sighs. “Are you aware that for the last eight hours since the pictures first showed up on social media, people have been calling the hospital asking if you work here? Instead of the operator handling important calls from patients and staff, she has to field these anonymous calls asking about our employee who was seen with this guy…. Kodiak something.”

  “Donovan. His last name is Donovan.”

  “Are you serious with Mr. Donovan?” She asks. “Are you two in a relationship?”

  “Since when did supervisors make it their business to know details about my love life?”

  “Since your behavior outside of the hospital has become… shall we say, harmful to the reputation of the hospital.” She pauses, taking a deep breath and exhaling. “Miss Porter, I will be discussing this matter with the head of the department tomorrow morning. Until then, I suggest you stay home.”

  My face turns pale as if all the blood just left it. “Wait. You’re suspending me? For a picture that I didn’t ask anyone to take of me?”

  “You were photographed leaving this young man’s townhouse after spending the night with him,” Betsy replies stiffly. “That in itself is not the issue. The issue is the resulting public reaction to the image and the harassment of the hospital staff by anonymous callers demanding to know if you worked here. Not only that but now we’ve got parents who are worried about the behavior of our employees and how it could possibly affect care management.”

  “My behavior outside of work has no bearing with my work performance,” I say slowly. “I’m a good nurse. I’m on time. I go above and beyond the work that’s required of me.” And most of all, I care for my patients, I almost add, but I don’t. Judging from the look on Betsy’s face, I doubt it would have made a difference.

  She swivels the laptop to face her again. “There aren’t any more of these type of pictures going around, right?”

  I sigh, exhaustion hitting me. “No, not that I know of.”

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page regarding this matter, Roxy.” Betsy pulls out a form and places it on the desk between us. “Please read the document and print and sign your name on the bottom line that indicates you and I have discussed this matter.”

  I hold up my hands. “Whoa! What do you mean, sign at the bottom line? What exactly is this? A disciplinary action because some asshole took my picture on the street doing the walk of shame? Why is it suddenly my fault?”

  “I never said anything was your fault. Upon careful consideration and given how departments have to scramble to deal with this social media nightmare, it’s been recommended that you take a few days off,” she says. “Without pay, unfortunately, until the department can figure out how to address this.”

  “Address what?”

  “People have been inundating the phone lines asking about you, Roxy. Even our computer system has experienced a surge in requests,” she say
s. “The only thing we can think of right now to mitigate the situation is–”

  “–to remove me. Is that it?” I ask angrily. “Because that’s not fair. And to put me on leave without pay is not fair either.”

  “It’s only three days, Roxy. But I do need your signature acknowledging your under–”

  “Signature, my ass! No way,” I exclaim, heading toward the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m off the clock, and so I’m going home,” I reply, grabbing hold of the door handle but not pulling the door open. Not yet. “As to that piece of paper you want me to sign, you and I know we should never sign anything that we don’t exactly understand, like this little ‘can-I-see-you-in-my-office’ crap. So, no, I’m not signing it—not without my union rep.”

  Chapter Three

  I first heard about the #walkofshame pictures through my dad. As always, he stresses out over everything I do from leaving the country for months at a time to dating the wrong woman—or rather, a woman who isn’t connected to some business associate of his. Of course, pictures uploaded online by a guest at Jordan and Addison’s reception of me sliding a garter on a woman with tattoos set him off big time. And now this.

  What will people think? What about your reputation?

  As if such things matter to me. If they did, I wouldn’t be flying halfway across the world to build schools and clinics alongside locals and volunteers for the third year in a row. Sure, I have my security with me the whole time, some of them right in the thick of it, but that’s about it. I’m also tired and the last thing I need to hear is Dad complaining about the pictures.

  After I hang up with a promise to see him tonight at the party he’s holding for ReBuild to Heal’s donors, I call the head of my security Cayden Grayson. While a part of me wishes my dad is only over-reacting, another part of me knows there’s a social media nightmare in my hands.

  Too bad people have nothing better to do than stalk other people on social media for sport. It doesn’t help that Roxy and I don’t look our best in the pictures either. In fact, we both look hungover, with Roxy still wearing her bridesmaid’s dress from the day before. Why couldn’t I have given her something of mine to wear? A shirt she could tie at the waist and a pair of my running shorts or something?

  But why the vitriol directed toward her by the readers? In fact, there’s more directed at her than at me.

  “That’s the way it is these days, Mr. Donovan,” Caden says over the phone. “I just hope she doesn’t have much of a digital footprint online in case some idiot decides to dox her.”

  “Do you think people will try to find out more about her?” From what I’d heard, doxxing was the practice of revealing someone else’s private information online like home addresses and phone numbers.

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” he replies. “But my concern is you and so far, we’ve locked down all your accounts. The post did state what street you were photographed at, and that’s just like broadcasting where you live.”

  “What about Miss Porter?”

  “As soon as you give me the go-ahead and the information about her, I’ll add her,” he says. “But you’ll need her consent first.”

  After I thank Caden and hang up, my phone rings again. I sigh, knowing with the pictures out there and Roxy and I becoming the butt of Internet jokes, it’ll be ringing for awhile. But it’s not an unknown caller. I know the name that pops up on my phone display very well.

  I tap Answer. “Shouldn’t you be heading to Ireland for your honeymoon by now?”

  “Addy and I are still at the airport,” Jordan O’Halloran replies. “Caitlin is in the domestic terminal and she’s not happy.”

  Shit. Caitlin is Jordan’s sister and she also happens to be Roxy’s best friend.

  “I just heard about it. I saw the pictures, too,” I say, pulling up the pictures online again. “How’s Cait holding up?”

  “She’s pissed,” Jordan replies. “She just told me that Roxy got a warning at work because of the pictures. Something about a… hang on. Addy wants to talk to you.”

  I can hear a female voice on the loudspeaker announcing a flight arriving before Addison, Jordan’s wife speaks. “So I’m thinking this whole thing may have to do with a new clause the hospital added in the last two years or so. A morality clause.”

  “A what? But she’s an employee, isn’t she? A nurse?” I’m familiar with morality clauses. I have one for the nonprofit’s executives.

  “I know but I’m just guessing that’s why,” Addison says. “I mean, the caption says she’s doing a walk of shame from your apartment and she’s still wearing the same dress from the day before. There’s even a hashtag. WalkofshameRoxy. It’s terrible.”

  I sigh. “Can I tell you a secret?” I ask and Addison uh-hums. “Nothing happened between us.”

  “To be honest, it doesn’t look like it to the world, Kodi,” she says. “And even if you came out and said it to save her reputation, would it matter? People will still talk. They’ll still harass her.”

  “So what are you going to do, man?” Jordan asks, taking over the call. “Cait almost canceled her flight so she can stay and help Roxy with damage control. She was talking about hiring a lawyer.”

  “I hope she didn’t cancel her flight.”

  “She boarded, thank God, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s a lot of backlash against her best friend,” Jordan says. “People are calling her names, man. Have you read the comments?”

  “Tell him to read the comments,” I hear Addison say. “On second thought, maybe he shouldn’t read the comments. Just believe us when we say they’re bad-bad.”

  “Read them and know that I’m serious,” Jordan says. “Look, I’ve known Roxy for about six years, give or take. She’s a nice girl… and I mean, nice. She’s a bit quirky, dresses like she’s stuck in the 50’s and looks like Bettie Page–”

  “Hey, nothing wrong with Bettie,” I say.

  “I’m serious, Kodi. She doesn’t deserve what’s happening right now. Certainly not what people are saying about her,” Jordan says. “It’s one thing if you guys were dating or something, then shame on the public for saying that they’re saying, but you’re not.”

  “I’m sorry, man. I’ll take care of this right now,” I say, suddenly feeling bad for making light of things.

  “I don’t care what happened between you two that night. I really don’t, but no one deserves this kind of treatment, not from some internet mob who has no idea what an amazing person Roxy is. What if they find out where she lives?” He pauses when an announcement comes on. “She can always stay at our place while we’re on our honeymoon. To be safe. I’ll let Cait know so she can tell Roxy.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Jordan. I promise.”

  He exhales. “Our flight is boarding. We got to go. Addy’s so excited she’s shaking. This is her first trip overseas.”

  “You’ll need to buy her a drink or two then.”

  “You bet I am.” Jordan chuckles. “Lots of Guinness for us on this trip.”

  I get up from my chair and look out the window. Manhattan in the springtime is amazing. “Now you two love birds enjoy your honeymoon. Show her what makes Ireland the best country in the world.”

  He chuckles. “Oh, I will. Addy just might even see–”

  “Your lucky charms?” Addison interrupts in the background and Jordan and I burst out laughing at her sad attempt at an Irish accent.

  I grab my keys and my wallet from my desk drawer. “You two have a wonderful time. I’m heading to Roxy’s right now.”

  Chapter Four

  I don’t know how I make it out of the hospital without crying, but I do. Besides, I’m too angry to cry that I’m shaking and as long as I keep that emotion going, I’ll be alright.

  At the coffee shop a block away from the hospital, I call my union rep and tell him what happened. He tells me he doesn’t know what he can do from his end to get me back to work but he’
ll do what he can.

  On the subway train headed home, I text Caitlin to tell her I’m on my way home from work.

  Caitlin: You should have told me you spent the night with Kodi.

  Roxy: Want to know a secret?

  Caitlin: What?

  Roxy: Nothing happened.

  Caitlin: U serious?

  Roxy: Yup. We fell asleep.

  Caitlin: Like really?

  Roxy: Yes like really.

  Caitlin: That’s not what everyone thinks. They even know where you work and your shift.

  Roxy: The hospital is NOT amused. I’m on leave for 3 days.

  Caitlin: WHAT???? WHY??

  Roxy: Apparently people have been harassing the hospital and all that time spent fielding anonymous callers wanting to know if I worked there and what I did, what department, etc, could have been spent handling real calls from sick people.

  Caitlin: I’m sorry.

  Roxy: Don’t be. Unfortunately I made it worse.

  Caitlin: How could you have possibly made it worse?

  Roxy: I called her a bitch. But in my defense, I was tired.

  Caitlin: I’m sorry.

  Roxy: Not your fault, C.

  Caitlin: So what are you going to do? What if someone doxes you?

  Roxy: What’s that?

  Caitlin: When they post your private information on the internet like your phone number or address.

  Roxy: Some people need to get a life.

  Caitlin: Promise me you’ll stay at my parents’ house if that happens? And put another deadbolt on your door.

  Roxy: I’ll be fine.

  Caitlin: You need to promise me.

  Roxy: Ok I promise.

  Caitlin: I wish I could do something to help.

  Roxy: You’re already doing it. Finish your dissertation and graduate with those honors.

  Caitlin: Hey, my flight is boarding. I’ll text you when we take off.