“Tobey’s driving you down to your cottage,” Kip said.
“I can walk…” She looked at Kip’s face in the dim light of the clock. “Thanks, Tobey. Kip, I don’t know how long this will be. I’ll see you later.” She grabbed her purse and walked toward the door.
“Hey, come here.” Kip waved her over. So much for discretion. She walked over to him, and he pulled her down for a soft kiss. “Be careful.”
“I will.” She waved.
Tobey drove her down to the cottage. When she came out of her bedroom wearing her cranberry scrubs, the man who walked her to the cottage earlier held the front door open. “Zayne Wentworth, this is Harper Rousselle,” Tobey made the formal introduction.
“Hello again, ma’am,” Zayne said.
“Please make sure she gets to the hospital safely.”
“Roger.” Zayne was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was a mess. The car was an old two-door Chevy.
Harper climbed into the passenger seat. “Um, I…”
Zayne tipped his head. “Kip asked me to make sure you were safe. None of us want to stand out.”
“Oh.” Harper’s shoulders rose and fell.
* * *
Harper walked into the ER.Under the Sommerstones, it always looked like chaos. This morning, even overflowing with patients, it was controlled and calm. The handbook Opal gave her was lost in her car accident. Stowing her belongings, she checked in with the charge nurse. Working with her was a woman wearing a black Chase Care uniform with a gold stripe.
“Hi, I’m Shirelle,” the charge nurse said.
“Harper. Where do you need me?” Her eyes scanned. The improvements were amazing. The curtains between beds and the linens were brand-new. The different color-coded uniforms made sense. But the changes were not only cosmetic. There was enough equipment for the staff to use.
“Rooms 28 and 29, medical patients,” Shirelle said. “We have the trauma patients and our gang bangers covered, but our medical patients have been waiting too long.”
Harper headed to the rooms. Between every two rooms was a rolling stand with a computer. Opal came out from Area 27. “Harp, you’re okay.” She hugged her.
“Some bumps and bruises but all good.”
“Can you believe it? Look around.” Opal was giddy.
Brigitte headed in her direction. “Until it gets old. It’s all for show.”
“What is with you? Everything that comes out of your mouth is nasty and negative,” Harper spat.
“You’ll see. Mark my words,” Brigitte retorted.
Harper rolled her eyes and turned to the computer. She found her sign-in worked. Immediately a red screen popped up with instructions on how to obtain a new sign-in. She thought about how down-to-earth the group of men she had dinner with were, yet all had important jobs. And Ian Chase—he was a billionaire.
Her first patient was a thirty-six-year-old woman with severe abdominal pain. “Hi, Ms. Nairne.” Harper pulled back the curtain and gasped. The chart readJeannie Nairne, but the person in the bed was Raven.
“Harper,” Raven whispered.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Harper took her vital signs and temperature.
She rocked in the bed. “It hurts. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“I’m going to get you something. Can you hold on for a few more minutes?” Harper drew bloods and started an IV. Once she was done, she went in search of the doctor.
Chris Handler, the ER doc assigned to the block of patients, listened carefully to Harper and walked in to see Raven, rolling the computer with him. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Chris proceeded to examine and question Raven. “Harper, four milligrams of Dilaudid IV, eight milligrams ondansetron IV. I want to see your bloodwork. I’m going to send you for an ultrasound and a CT scan, and we will go from there. In the meantime, I want to make you comfortable. If this doesn’t help, I’ll find something that will.”
