“It’ll probably be a minute before either of us sees money.”
“Then I guess I’ll do it for the thrills.”
“How’s your leg?”
“Took my first steps today,” Lance quipped. “Hurts like a motherfucker, but it’s getting better.” He paused. “So, private rescue company, huh? You realize that’s like a legitimate version of my superhero idea, right?”
“Listen, asshole, I can still uninvite you.”
“Nope, too late, I’m invested. I’m gonna hang up and research the permits and shit you need. Staves off my boredom since your girl’s kidnapped my girl. I expect her back, by the way.”
Jon blew out a hard breath. “I just realized this means I’m stuck with you.”
Lance laughed. “For life, Johnson. Told you I’d cover you.”
“The permit research would be a big help. I’ll call around, too, see how fast I can get things moving.” From his tone, Lance pictured Jon shaking his head.
“Any ideas what you wanna name this company of ours?” Lance asked.
“Shit,” Jon muttered. Then, louder, “Not yet. Text me some thoughts if you have any real suggestions and I’ll do the same.”
A soft tap came from the door, alerting Lance that his next round ofsomethingwas about to begin, so he said, “Looks like I gotta go. But I’ll get on that.”
“Thanks, bud. Heal up, and stay sharp.” Jon disconnected as an unfamiliar female in nursing scrubs stepped into the room.
The nurse was shorter than average, about five-foot, two-inches by his estimation, and he was sure he hadn’t seen this one yet. She had bright blonde hair pulled into a braid and loosely draped over her shoulder, a slightly darker complexion, and brown eyes. Her makeup was colorful in a soft way that made her look youthful and approachable. She carried nothing more than a tablet, like most of the nurses, and her nails were an effeminate statement if ever Lance had seen one. They were long, tapered, bright pink, and each one held chunky gold sparkly pieces that reflected the light with her every movement.
Her face flushed red and her shoulders drew tight as she took a couple of small, almost hesitant, steps forward.
Alarm bells went off in Lance’s head and his brow furrowed. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, keeping his tone gentle, “but you seem uncomfortable. Do you not like helping male patients or something?”
Her eyes widened and her face reddened. “Oh, no! It’s not that. I’m sorry.” She pressed a hand to her chest, the deep blue of her scrub top only emphasizing the color of her manicure. “I’m sorry,” she said again, taking another step forward. “I’m Amy. I actually work the nursing desk, but … well, this is highly inappropriate and I could definitely lose my job for involving myself at all, let alone a patient, but—”
“Hey,” Lance interrupted, sensing her building mania. He stretched up the hand that was nearest her in a gesture meant to encourage calm. It was a reflex, but he made no effort to curb the motion. “Take a breath, Amy. Sit down if you need to. I’m Lance. And I assume you have a good reason for breaking protocol, if that’s what you’re doing?”
She rolled her lips together and drew a deep breath through her nose, then nodded clearly.
He lowered his arm. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? Tell me what you know, and why you came to me.”
Her brow pinched, anxious worry tightening her features, and she gripped the tablet in both hands. “I’m … being a bit presumptive. A lot presumptive.” She gulped in another breath. “I’ve developed the impression that there might be something … at least building, let’s say, between you and Lynnette. And that’s not an accusation. I don’t know her well, she doesn’t usually work this unit, but I like her. She’s not as cliquey as a lot of the other nurses around here are. And the only time I’ve seen her lose composure at all was when we talked a bit about you, so I developed some suspicions.”
He fought not to smile like an idiot. It probably actually wasn’t good if Lynn was showing an unprofessional interest in him in front of her colleagues. But then, he hadn’t seen a lot of warmth passing between her and those colleagues the few times they’d been in shared spaces in his presence. Still, he held his expression in neutral and only dipped his chin in encouragement when Amy paused.
Amy’s words gained a little strength. Her shoulders unclenched. “I’m going to tell you something I shouldn’t, because I can’t think of any other way to do the right thing.” She paused to roll her lips together in the same nervous gesture she’d made earlier.
A flicker of anxiety twisted through him. What the hell could she need to tell him?
Amy shuffled closer and lowered her voice. “I don’t have the details, but there’s a documentedproblembetween Lynnette and Doctor Bishop.”
Bishop. That was the day doc that had rubbed Lance wrong from minute one. His body tensed and he locked his jaw.
“They’re actually not supposed to be assigned to the same cases,” Amy continued. “Whenever possible, they’re to work in separate units entirely. Those are the notations I’m privy to, no explanation of why. They’re permanent orders, though. So, really, Lynnette should never have been the nurse sent to fill our roster for this week and she could absolutely have refused, but that— that’s not my point.”
What she described sounded like a desperate, shitshow of a restraining order with prettier wording. What the hell could have happened that there would be formal records insisting on that type of separation? He couldn’t think of anything that didn’t make him need to break bone.
“My brother is in the Air Force,” Amy suddenly said, the topic switch jarring Lance’s concentration. She was pressing the tablet to her chest and staring at him with pleading eyes, a request he didn’t yet understand. “He talks all the time about technical stuff that flies way over my head. Makes it sound like you basically have to be a tech-wizard to do anything other than sit in trenches with rifles. Which I know is over-simplified, and I don’t mean to demean anything, my point is just— I was hoping that meant you could help me help her.”
Lance felt his eyes blow wide before he could finish processing the information. “You mean Lynn?”
