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“You have to. The woman who wrote it lives in Carson City, and she and her husband have family up here. Sometimes you see them around town. And get this: he’s kind of a pirate. Sexy as all get out, and he wears an eye patch.”
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. If only he had a brother. I’ve asked.” She laughed.
“I guess I’d better read this book. Do you know whose copy this is?”
“That’s just here as a little pick-me-up. Feel free to read it whenever you want. We have several more copies at the nurses’ station.”
Now all the pictures of Orlando Bloom as Will Turner in Pirates of the Caribbean hanging up in the nurses’ station made more sense. I was pretty sure some of them even had lipstick kisses on them.
I set the book back down. “Great. I’ll sneak in some pages today if I can.” The ER was always busier during the holidays. Lots of flu, colds, and strep throat. Not to mention burns and cuts from cooking Thanksgiving meals and … family disagreements. Though I would probably see less of that here in Aspen Lake. Propriety was the name of the game in this town.
Lucy opened the refrigerator and placed her lunch in it. “Good luck with being able to stop after only a few pages. It’s addictive.”
Sounded like my kind of book. “I’ll do my best,” I teased before swiping my debit card and picking out a bottle of energy water. I didn’t waste any time opening and downing half of it. Immediately, I felt the rush of caffeine. Whoever invented energy water was my hero.
“Late night?” Lucy inquired.
“Yeah.” I took another long swig.
Her pretty eyes lit up. “Husband? Boyfriend?”
I vehemently shook my head. “No. How about you?” I asked.
“Oh, goodness no. I’m kind of on a man detox. I have this ugly habit of dating bad boys.”
“We all go through that phase, I think.” I knew I had dated my fair share. Mostly fellow med school students and residents. There are a lot of places in a hospital where you can hide and make out. Was I proud of those actions? Yes. Yes, I was. A good make-out session gave me more energy than caffeine any day of the week.
“Well, mine seems to be more than a phase,” Lucy admitted. “Speaking of bad boys, Dr. Shackwell wanted me to tell you he wants to talk to you before he leaves for the day.”
Dr. Shackwell, one of the doctors who moonlighted in the ER, had taken the night shift. Yesterday, I heard some nurses refer to him as Dr. Shack-Me-Please. I knew then to stay clear of the handsome doctor who had all the charisma of Chris Evans, including the sexy sideburns. Besides, dating coworkers never went well. Noncommittally making out with them was one thing. Relationships were way too tricky. And most of the time, the hospital admins frowned upon it. No need to give Deidra more heartburn over me.
“I’ll be right there. I just need a few more ounces of caffeine.”
She grinned and waved on her way out the door.
I downed the rest of the bottle and bought a new one for good measure. I had to be on my A game. Make that A-plus game. I hated feeling so watched in this town. Not that I wouldn’t do my best normally. But I knew people would love to misconstrue even my best efforts if given the chance. I would do everything not to give them any ammunition.
Dr. Shackwell walked in before I could go find him. He was probably eager to get home. The night shift was brutal. I probably would have gotten saddled with it this week if it weren’t for the fact that I was working all day on Thanksgiving. It was fine. Quinn and Stella were spending it with the Grangers, and I wasn’t invited. Shocker. Not like I would have gone, anyway. They required you to dress up and had the meal catered by a local five-star restaurant. That didn’t sound like my kind of holiday. I missed cooking in the kitchen with Mom and Dad and then yelling at the TV screen at whichever football team was fouling up. Every Thanksgiving night by a blazing fireplace, we would start making our Christmas tree ornaments. Strings of popcorn and cranberries, stars made from wooden beads, and various decorations made with cinnamon sticks. Dad could make the most elaborate paper snowflakes. It was magical. I hoped to give Quinn some of that magic this year, even if it meant the uncle had to be involved.
“Dr. Monroe,” Dr. Shackwell addressed me formally. I’d told him yesterday he could call me Calista, but if he wanted to be formal, I was on board. It was probably better that way, considering my reputation.
“Hello. How was the night shift?”
He ran a hand through his brown hair. “Long,” he was curt and to the point. “I just wanted to let you know in exam room one, there’s a fifty-one-year-old male, diabetic, dehydrated. Possible food poisoning, but I tested for norovirus just in case. He’s currently on IV fluids.”
Yikes. That norovirus test wasn’t a fun sample to get.
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“In room two, there’s a thirty-three-year-old female waiting to be seen. Possible UTI. Good luck. See you later.” He marched out without even letting me get in a word.
I guess that meant it was showtime. I hustled over to the office the on-shift doctors used so I could drop off my bag and caffeinated beverage. The ER was in a lull for the moment, but I knew that would change.
On my way over to exam room two, I waved and smiled at my favorite person, Evie, as she barked orders at the nurses in the nurses’ station. She reciprocated with her lovely grimace. I smiled even wider. Her grimace turned into a sneer. Someday, I would get her to smile if it was the last thing I did.
I walked past the row of curtains where most patients were shuttled. It was decent of the nurses to give the woman with the possible UTI a private room, since it was available.
