CHAPTER EIGHT
Austin
The rest of my shiftdragged, but at least I’m out in time to catch the last few innings of the ball game. “I’ll see you in the morning,” I tell Daisy as I toss my bag over my shoulder.
“You’re welcome,” she says with a raised brow. Her focus is held on the piece of paper she’s doodling on, but I see the sly, little smirk.
“I’m sorry, but what exactly are you expecting my gratitude for?”
“I sent you to your Cinderella,” she says with a sigh as she fans herself with the paper she picks up.
I stop in front of her and rest my elbows on the countertop. “Daisy,” I begin.
“Austin,” she laments.
“Cinderella was a poor girl who was left as a maid to her stepmother. The girl in the room you sent me into was no Cinderella. From our interaction so far, she may be more like one of the evil stepsisters. She definitely wasn’t leaving that expensive shoe of hers behind for me to chase after her with.”
“You never know,” Daisy says, her voice piping into a high pitch.
“You need a new hobby. Just sayin’.”
“You need a woman in your life.”
“No, I don’t,” I remind her. “I am more than enough of a companion for myself.”
She releases an irritated huff. “You are so darn sad, Austin Trace.”
I give her my best puppy dog simper and straighten my back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, crazy Daisy.”
A breeze hits my face the second I step outside the hospital, and for some reason, it gives me a spurt of energy after being cooped up in the hospital all day. It’s the only time of year when it isn’t too chilly, and it isn’t hot as balls yet, so I try to appreciate the four weeks of spring we get.
I pass by Dickle's, noticing the lack of shouts that would normally be pouring out of the place during a game. With a quick glance inside, I see that the place is mostly empty, which is inviting, especially since Jack is working tonight.
“Hey, bud,” I shout while walking in.
“Austin, bro, how’s it going?”
“Can’t complain. Where is everyone tonight?” I ask, taking a seat in front of the bar.
“I’m not sure, actually. It’s been quiet all day.”
“Yeah, the hospital was fairly quiet too.”
“Want your usual?” he asks.
“You know it.”
Jack pours me a tall glass of Yuengling and places it down on a cardboard coaster. “Anything fun and exciting happen at work today?” Jack asks.
“Not really, except I took care of this chick from Boston who just moved here. Let me tell you something, she’s going to be well-known around here by the end of the week. Her attitude—” I hoot. “Hot damn. The women are going to hate her, and the men are going to love her. It’ll be a cause for a big ole’ tub of popcorn.”
“Oh man, I want to see this girl. What does she look like?”
I take a swig of my beer. “She’s smokin’, kind of the whole package, except her mouth and attitude,” I say, laughing.
“What was she doing in the hospital?”
“Broke her wrist. She was tramping through the woods in front of the Bayview Plantation. Her four-inch stiletto met a concealed ditch.”
