Then it was with rubber legs that Darla stood and reassured everyone, saying, "This is okay. I’ve always wanted to be popular. Always wondered what it’d be like. Yeah, this is okay."
Perhaps if she said that enough, it would be true.
Chapter Six
DARLA
This was not okay.
"This cannot be happening." Darla pressed her fingertips against her temples.
But hell, itwashappening. Really happening. Her breaths came way too quick sitting in the hospital’s Human Resources naughty chair. Because in this upside-down version of the world, influencers kept trying to sneak into the ER to snap a picture of Darla. Don’t even get her started on the overflow of men wanting to proposition her—finding reasons to be admitted in the hope she’d be the nurse assigned. Reasons that were clogging up the whole triage system.
Darla was the talk of Datestagram—the dating section of Instagram. Which made her the talk of the hospital. Which made her the talk of Denver.
From there, things spiraled. All since lunch.
"Even if we weren’t rerouting ambulances because of the immense attention in the Emergency Department, and increasing security because everyone wants to talk to you, the fact is you’re so recognizable right now we can’t put you back on the floor. You’re a distraction to the other staff, and the patients. We absolutely can’t have anyone else risking tetanus because they want to date you," Trixie, the Human Resources lead, said. She grimaced as she said "tetanus."
Darla did, too, because the guy who pretended to impale his finger with a rusty nail so Darla would be his nurse took things entirely too far.
Trixie’s eyes softened as she said, "This solution is only until things blow over. We have to think about the patients first."
Darla understood. "I get it. I do."
When she’d gone back to work after lunch, the nonsense had already begun. It started with one Instagram influencer checking herself in, but she quickly was identified and got shuffled outside. By the fourth check-in, Darla realized it wasn’t a one-off and this was going to be an issue because all the non-emergencies showing up definitely put a cramp in patient care.
The hospital’s public relations department even had to get involved.
And now she was officially instructed to take a leave of absence. A paid leave of absence, but she wouldn’t get all the overtime that fed her Frappuccino addiction and her love of new shoes.
Standing from the chair, she held her head high as she took her walk of shame out the door. And there was Tom, standing in the hallway. Waiting for her. That’s the moment Darla fully hated this day. Being popular was definitely not as fun as it sounded.
Tom was an attractive guy with his blond hair and symmetrical nose. He wore the slacks she’d bought him last Christmas. They fit way better than any in his closet when they started dating. His haircut was compliments of the stylist she’d arranged for him to see. And, not that she was looking, but the tooth-whitening toothpaste she’d dropped on his counter definitely did the trick.
In the game of leave-things-better-than-you-found-them, she’d done well with Tom.
This was little consolation because she may have been the woman who fixed him up, but he was the man who broke her heart. She’d already put it back together with paper mâché and some Elmer’s glue, but what seemed to hold strong before lunch now felt questionably gooey.
She’d seen him post-split. They worked in the same hospital, so it was unavoidable. But he’d never sought her out and she’d never tried to catch him, either.
"Hi." He stepped forward, his hands in the pockets of his white doctor’s coat—good to see he continued to use the wrinkle release spray like she’d introduced him to. "I… tried to call you."
"This—" She waved between them. "We don’t need to do this."
She’d had to turn off her phone because it was blowing up. Later, she’d deal with the messages and sort through the voicemails. But for now, she left it in her purse.
He surveyed her, but her body was oblivious to the perusal. Not like with Mach. Darn it. She needed to stop comparing everything to Mach. He’d made her life difficult enough today.
"Are you okay?" Tom asked. "This whole thing downstairs seems like it’s a lot."
"It is," she agreed. "And I am fine. Just… dealing with the fallout."
Tom could go ahead and suck frogs somewhere else. She was ready to go home.
She pulled her tongue deeper into her mouth so she didn’t accidentally say something that couldn’t be unsaid.
"Mom saw your write-up online. She asked me to check on you," he continued. "She says hi."
