“I’m definitely not that type of angel. That… sounds like a quote.”
“From an obituary. She wouldn’t have liked it. Too flowery. She wrote. But serious stuff. Nothing whimsical. Savannah Daniels was her idol, not Keats.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Miss her.”
“She died recently?”
“Natali.”
“Natali,” I repeated. “Christmas?” At his miserable nod, I knew if I wasn’t careful, his trip would turn sour. Or maybe it already had. Who the hell knew?! I’d handled some crazies in my time, but this guy was the whackiest. “Look, it’s time to get onto the bed. If for no other reason than the sake of modesty.”
“I’m not a very modest person.”
Captain Obvious had nothing on this guy, huh?
“How about everyone else’s?”
With a sigh that was the dictionary definition of ‘put upon,’ he finally settled on the bed and accepted the blanket as a covering, where he proceeded to stare at me like no one else in the universe existed.
If I were any other woman and hadn’t sworn off men who didn’t believe in the god of hedge funds, that puppy-dog look would probably have made me melt.
But Ididworship at the temple of the buck and I had three brothers who’d used that look a million times on me at one point or another.
My sole concession was to take a seat beside his bed, but only because I hadn’t had the chance to sit down during my shift yet.
That was theonlyreason.
“Your eyes are pretty.”
Now that I had him where I needed him, I charted his vitals. “Not the first time a man on drugs has told me that.”
“I’m not on drugs.”
“My nursing experience tells me otherwise.”
“Not drugs-drugs. Medicine drugs.”
Because that was some sort of breakthrough, I jotted the observation down. “What kind of medicine?”
“I made it.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Do you run a meth lab?”
“Do I look like Walter White?”
No, he definitely didn’t.
“I know who you are, Mr. Valentini.”
“Stan.”
“Mr. Valentini.”
“Stan.”
“Mr. Valentini.”
His nose wrinkled. “You’re an older sister, aren't you?”
“Perhaps. What kind of medication?”
