CHAPTER 1
Riley stifled a yawn before putting a cheerful smile on her face and opening the door to exam room four. "Good news, Jayden. Your arm isn't broken. Again."
"Yay! No cast!"
"Not so fast, young man." Riley sat on the swivel stool and parked herself in front of Jayden. "If you don't give the sprain the time it needs to heal, you could cause more damage to your wrist." She motioned for him to hold out his arm then strapped on the brace she'd carried in with her. "You need to wear this for four to six weeks."
"Ah man." Jayden scowled at Riley.
"I'll be lucky to get him to wear it for two." His mom rolled her eyes.
Eight-year-old Jayden was the oldest of three active kids who kept the single mom on her toes. Jayden was by far the most rambunctious, always jumping off things, popping wheelies on his bike, or trying new stunts on his skateboard.
Normally, Riley would suspect a parent of child abuse when their child had this many injuries, but Jayden always had a story to tell about how he injured himself. The logic behind his antics were waytoo entertaining, not to mention detailed and age-appropriate, to be mistaken as abuse.
A few minutes later, Riley ruffled Jayen's hair as she followed mother and son out of the exam room. “No more trying to jump your skateboard off the front porch steps.”
He was her last patient of the day. They had been squeezed in at the last minute as it was. She stifled another yawn as she made her final notes in Jayden's chart. Exhaustion weighed heavily on every muscle of her body. Sleep had been nearly impossible since her date with Collin last Friday night, and she was exhausted.
She contemplated asking Dr. Nelson to prescribe her something to help her sleep. But he'd want to know why she wasn't sleeping well, and she didn't want to talk about it. Telling the police how she was sexually assaulted by the pharmaceutical rep, who frequently came into Dr. Nelson’s office, had been hard enough. She didn't want to relive the whole ordeal again. And she certainly didn't want to be viewed as a victim. Besides, she feared her coworkers wouldn't believe her.
Collin Ainsworth was so charming and charismatic that he was every nurse’s favorite rep. He always brought baked goods and chocolates for everyone in the office, but he always managed to make Riley feel singled out, which she hated.
After calling in sick for the last two days, it was easier to cover the bruise on her temple with makeup than to try to convince her friends what a dirtbag he was.
Zoe, her medical assistant, pitched forward in her seat and gave Riley a mischievous grin from behind her desk. "Hey, you have one last patient in room two. A walk-in."
Riley sighed. "Why didn't the front desk send them to the walk-in clinic?"
Zoe shrugged but her grin only grew. It was way too big for five-thirty in the afternoon. "He insisted on being seen by his favorite medical professional."
Favorite?
Riley treated many young patients who preferred to be seen by afemale nurse practitioner over Dr. Nelson, who was a large, barrel-chested man with a deep voice, but she'd never been called anyone's favorite.
She loved working with Dr. Nelson, who was nothing but a big teddy bear, but she'd struggled to breathe earlier this afternoon when she conferred with him behind closed doors about a patient. What little lunch she'd managed to choke down had nearly come back up.
She cursed Collin in her head for the hundredth time since Friday night. It was his fault she feared being alone in a room with a man. Thanks to her cousin Paige's timely arrival, Collin hadn't achieved his goal, but he'd taken something from her. Something Riley feared she'd never get back. She doubted she’d ever be able to trust and feel safe again?
Riley chided herself for even accepting that first date with Collin, let alone the second. She should have listened to the voices in her head, telling her to steer clear of him.
Heaving a sigh, she approached exam room two and pulled the chart from the pocket on the wall.
Jon Johnson. Twenty-nine.
Great, a man. Just my luck.
A cold sweat pricked her brow, and a band tightened around her chest. The paper chart shook in her clammy hand so badly she struggled to read the rest of Jon Johnson's stats.
Six foot, one hundred eighty-five pounds. Temp and blood pressure, both normal. Complaint: chest pains.
Not likely a heart attack. He's too young. Maybe a panic attack, but probably indigestion.
She looked at the patient’s name again. She didn’t know Jon Johnson, so how could she be his favorite medical professional?
Because Zoe still grinned at her from behind her desk, Riley rolled her neck to loosen the tension that threatened to give her a headache, then she sucked in a deep breath, and pushed open the door.
I can do this.
