Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“Me? Why me? We can find him someone from his health insurance provider,” I offer.
“Well, to be blunt, he requested you. It’s not like you’d need to be there around the clock, just be there for a couple of hours a day. Enough to change his bandage, help him get in and out of the shower, and make sure his ass doesn’t do something completely stupid.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” I interject. “I know Sheriff Daniels, but I can’t say that I even know who I’m talking to.”
“I’m Bridger,” the one who clearly joked about the sponge bath says, extending his hand.
“Giana Duncan,” I reply, taking his hand.
“This is Slade and Easton.” He points to the other two men. We all shake hands as well.
“I’m not saying I’ll even do this. You’d have to clear it with the administrator of the hospital, plus my salary that I make here, while I’m there. I’d expect more compensation, especially since this will be happening on my time off.” I fold my arms under my chest, letting them know in no uncertain terms that I’m not really buying what they're selling.
“If you’re willing, we’ll handle the rest,” Slade states.
“Wait, what? How is that even possible?” I’m flabbergasted to say the least.
“You’ll work here, we’ll pay you double what you make here for two to three hours a day if you take care of Drake.” This time it’s Easton talking. I swear I’m getting whiplash from moving my head back and forth between these men.
“Um, okay, I guess. But I’ll need to at least see some kind of credentials.” I may be a fool for taking this side job, but there’s no way I won’t do my own due diligence. My parents did not raise a fool.
“Sure.” All four of them pull out their badges of some sort. I look at them carefully, knowing full well as soon as this shift is over what I’ll be doing, research, a shit ton of it. I see that Bridger and Slade work for the same place, Easton has a different company, and then, well, Travis. There isn’t much I need to do there, not to mention everyone in town knows Raelynn.
“I guess that sums it up. It’s not like I couldn’t use the extra money anyways. Student loans are a you know what,” I mutter.
“We’ll have everything ready later this afternoon,” Easton lets me know. I nod my head, still in a state of ‘what the hell did I get myself into’ when each of them turns on their heels and leaves.
I fall back in the chair carefully. It wouldn’t look too good if a nurse landed in the hospital with a broken tailbone because she plopped down unsteadily and the wheels on the seat took off.
“This has got to be one of the weirdest days ever,” I whisper out.
“Hey, girl! What was that you said?” Rita comes strolling back in, a to-go cup in her hand, and now I have the sudden craving for waffle fries.
“Nothing. This has been a weirder day than normal, but everything was good while you were gone.”
“That’s good. Are you taking your break now or later?” Rita is an older nurse. She took me under her wing when I landed on this floor. Her white hair shows her age, which is not a reflection of her spirit. I swear she can run circles around me on any given day of the week.
“I’ll go now. I have a sudden craving.” I look at the cup she’s holding, letting her know where I’m going.
“I would have picked you up something, sugar.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t really know what I wanted, but now that I do, I’m going. Plus, this gives me some down time. I’m still coming down from finishing my last class. That bachelor’s degree really tried to kill me,” I tell her, and I’m not lying—working full-time while going to school part-time was a struggle. I’ve never been happier that it’s done and I’m officially through with school.
“Alright, anything I need to know?” I’m grabbing my wallet and phone from the desk drawer. Most people put things in their lockers that are provided by the surgical center. I’d rather not and choose to carry as little as possible.
“Everyone’s good. Mr. Martinez has requested to come off his pain meds. It’s documented. He’s the only one waiting on rounds right now,” I tell Rita, my thoughts going back to when I walked into his hospital room. Even with his shoulder bandaged and him sedated from pain medicine, Drake Martinez is a sight to behold. Raven-colored hair, tousled from what I’m sure was a stressful morning, that five o’clock shadow that might be more like a day’s worth of growth. Not to mention his chest—he’s sculpted, completely and utterly sculpted. Something I should not have been paying attention to while working on him. My eyes though, they had a mind of their own and wanted to visualize every aspect of his body.