Any more than it already had.
"Your girl’s not answering her phone," Hans said. "Called the emergency room, but they’re not saying shit about if she’s working or not. I’m about to head to the hospital. See if I can track her down."
Hold up. "You got her number?"
"Follow along, kid." Hans said this like he was talking to a toddler. "Of course I collected her information. But it doesn’t matter because I can’t reach her."
Tension pulled between Mach’s shoulder blades. He didn’t like any of this. Not one bit.
Chapter Five
DARLA
Darla adoredall that she accomplished in her job. But even someone who loves the purpose of what they do can get bored with the monotony of day to day. There was, however, one good part of working at the same hospital as her best friends. They might be in the middle of another same ol’, same ol’ shift, but they had each other. Renata worked in the recovery room, and Patrice was a nurse in labor and delivery.
Darla had dished all about her date with Mach. Renata and Patrice wanted more details so they could, as a group, evaluate everything that happened.
"I’m not talking about it anymore," Darla said, eyeing her friends in the staff lounge of their hospital. The canary-yellow walls needed a fresh coat of paint, but that wasn’t happening soon. The staff areas weren’t the most important for aesthetics. The big bosses saved those dollars for patient areas. That’s why the dings in the drywall and permanent scuffs along the bottom rubber wall base wouldn’t be going anywhere for a long time.
"Who should I use for a referral endorsement?" She chewed at her lip as she flipped through the ledger in her head of all of those who would say nice things about her. She needed a big name for this. Somebody with a spotless reputation and at least a few papers published in the past two years.
"Can we please put a pin in your Frontline application?" Patrice asked, flipping the page on her embossed white wedding planner. "For now."
Patrice had picked an accountant as her fixer-upper, not a doctor. It turned out that was a good choice.
Now, Patrice was well on her way to wedded bliss, and Darla was… not. While Patrice planned her wedding, Darla stared at the Frontline application she’d opened on her laptop.
Clearly, online dating was not going to work for her. So she thought about what would make her happier, and, honestly? It wasn’t a man in her life.
She’d always thought traveling overseas with an organization like Frontline might be a kick. A predictable, controlled-environment kick. The idea appealed to the part of herself that wanted to make things better for others. Even the part of her that needed to heal. Maybe it wouldn’t be fun all the time, but it would be new, and it would be interesting, and there would probably be some good times mixed in. Plus, they would expect her to fix stuff. That was the entire purpose of the organization.
While Mach might think that fun for her should be a rockstar night out, she knew herself better than that.
So, she seriously looked into the program. Then it was natural that she started the application process.
"If there’s one thing that Mach showed me," Darla said, "it’s that I am ready to move on with my life. It’s time. And the more I think about it, it is time for a big change. I mean, why not? Mom and Dad are in South Dakota." They’d moved to be near her brother, his wife, and his new baby. "Tom and I are done." It didn’t sting to say it that time. "And I can’t live in your guest room forever." That left… Nurses on the Frontline.
"No Frontline." Renata shook her head. "It’ll take you away from us."
Unfortunately, Patrice and Renata hated the idea of Darla applying for a Frontline position because then she could get accepted. And if she got accepted, she would take it. There was some prestige there. They accepted less than eight percent of applicants. Before she’d fussed about applying because she worried about running water, but now the icky feelings came when she realized how many nurses sought this opportunity. Which meant, if she got that acceptance, she’d be leaving for a year or more.
Her friends did not like that.
"Think about it," Renata said, folding her hands under her chin. "You don’t really want to move away. I don’t want you to move away. So you shouldn’t move away."
"Excellent points," Patrice added, forking a bit of cafeteria meatloaf.
"Who’s moving away?" Mario—the pediatrics intern—asked. He pulled up a chair, turned it around, and straddled it before folding his arms over the back.
"Darla." Renata scowled as she said this. "She’s filling out a Frontline application."
"Is this because Dr. Damaged screwed you over?" Mario asked, absolutely oblivious to the fact that Tom should stay out of lunchtime conversation.
"What would make you stay?" Patrice asked, clearly ready to go out and get that thing.
Finding a reason to stay…
A person worth staying for…
