He opened the door and stepped out. A burst of cool air hit me as I climbed out and wobbled on the concrete sidewalk.
He shut the door and met my eyes. “You’re right. But I’d have liked to decide that for myself.”
He walked to the bar, and I didn’t bother calling him back. But damn, I’d dream about those lips and that voice whispering promises in the dark for a long time.
Chapter Two
Ash
Icould smell what we did in my car when I left for work. I should have been angry, but it only made me uncomfortably aroused.
I’d been stupid. I’d never gone off with a woman like that. A stranger. I shut my eyes and rolled down the window. The cold blasted me, and I let it soothe some of my irritation away.
Starting a new job today meant I needed to push her out of my mind, focus on the task at hand. Six months serving at this hospital meant I could go to any post in the country afterward. And it wasn’t something I’d usually consider if a friend hadn’t begged me to help him out and take the job. The pay didn’t hurt the prospect either.
I took a sip of my rapidly chilling coffee to wash away the memory of the taste of her. She’d been on my mind all morning. I wished I’d gotten her number, or real name. She hesitated when she introduced herself. Understandable, as a woman. She had more to risk going off with a stranger. Maybe George knew her or how to find her. They seemed chummy last night.
I pulled into a staff labeled parking spot, gathered my things, and headed into the hospital for my first day. Nurse Styx met me at registration and led me back through the staff areas. Hospital didn’t exactly describe the place well. More like rehab clinic for the too-rich. Styx was an imposing woman with steel gray hair gathered severely at the nape of her neck. More warden than nurse. We passed through a break room, several hard copy record rooms, and the nurse’s station. She explained medications and the nurse’s duties before showing me to my office.
The familiar scent of cleanser and latex met me as the door swung inward. My new office was sparse. A desk, a couple chairs, some filing cabinets. All highlighted by a wall of windows on the opposite side.
“I’ll leave you here to get settled,” she said.
I turned to ask about coffee, but the woman had already disappeared. I’d have been creeped out if this place didn’t have the feel of brand new med spa.
I deposited my messenger bag on the desk and surveyed the space further. Clean, serviceable, and for the first time, all mine. I’d never had my own office before.
The filing cabinet against the wall caught my curiosity, and I crossed the room and opened the top drawer. It slid out with an ear-splitting screech. Above everything else, the patients came first. I’d do what I could for them while I was here.
I snagged a few of the files, plopped them on the wood desk and shut the drawer with a clatter. Once I’d satisfied myself it was all the way closed, I pulled out my chair and plopped down. It bounced a little, and I adjusted it to the height I needed. The previous occupant was taller than I was.
I flipped open the first file and sighed as data greeted me from the white sheet. It would naturally take time to get to know these people. The downside: many of them wouldn’t understand how many interactions would be required before I might make a difference in their lives, and I wanted to help them the best I could. But a person could only be helped as far as they allowed. And in my experience, people rarely allowed strangers enough time for meaningful interaction.
I scanned the page before me. This woman had multiple admissions over the years, but the notes left by my predecessor told me nothing as to why. I flipped through the pages and let them flutter back to resting. She didn’t even have a meaningful diagnosis to speak of. Plenty of medications listed treating everything from pain to depression. How had she continually been admitted with no diagnosis and a whole damn pharmacy in her records?
I snagged another file, flipped it open and read over the first page. This case seemed normal. A solid, clear, historically accounted for case of schizophrenia.
I dragged another file out, again it was an easily digestible clear-cut case.
The fear churning in my gut stilled somewhat. The new employer version of buyer’s remorse quickly clearing. So this one case must be special, which meant I might be able to diagnose the poor girl myself and release her from this viscous cycle of admissions.
A knock broke my concentration, and a nurse I’d met earlier poked her head in. “Just making sure you don’t need anything, Doctor.”
What was her name again? Ah. “Nurse Minthe, thank you for checking on me. I’m doing fine.”
She ducked her head, a blush tracking up her neck. “Millie, please.”
I sat back and smiled. Her unruly black curls had been tamed at the nape of her neck, and the dark brown of her smooth skin gleamed under my office’s abysmal lighting. “Is that short for something?”
She came closer. “Amelia. But only my Nana calls me that.”
“You can call me Ash. Short for Ashton.” I prompted before she could ask. “But my grandma calls me Meander. It’s an old family name. Greek.” I said before she got in the next question. “My whole family is Greek.”
Her smile widened, and I realized I’d been rambling, and she likely had better things to do.
I stood and shifted around the desk to her side where she stood bracing her hands on the back of one of the leather arm chairs. “I’m sorry, you probably didn’t need all that extra information.”
She waved away my concerns. “No, it’s okay, really. But I do have to make the rounds. Let me know if you need anything as you get settled.”
