by Parker, Ali
“Yeah. They’re like my sisters. We grew up together.”
“Your chosen family.” He nodded absently. “I get that. Having friends like that is a great thing if you can get it.”
“Do you have any? Chosen family, I mean.”
His lips twisted in a flash of what looked like pain. “Not anymore.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn’t, I decided to leave the topic alone. Clearly, he didn’t want to tell me what had happened to those friends of his.
When he was ready, if that time ever came for us, he would tell me. He’d been so respectful in his questions, so honest about telling me that I didn’t have to answer that it didn’t feel right to push him.
“Do you have any siblings?” I asked instead, shifting in my seat so I was half facing him.
“No, I’m an only child too.” He smiled. “I’d have loved to have a brother or a sister, though. I made peace with it a long time ago that I wouldn’t, but I had some friends growing up that came pretty close.”
“Guess you can’t miss something you’ve never had,” I agreed. “It’s the same for me.”
We kept talking about lighter topics until we reached the restaurant, asking questions that skimmed the surface of who were as people. He opened my door for me after we parked, grabbing my hand so we could run for cover together.
It wasn’t raining too hard, but it was enough to get just that little bit too wet to be comfortable if we didn’t make a run for it.
The table Rylen had booked for us was situated on a wooden deck that closed on the sides with glass and had a roof over it with lanterns hanging from it. I looked around, marveling at the comfortable interior and how we seemed to be hanging right over the ocean.
Moonlight reflected off its surface, rippled by the falling rain on the swells. “This is gorgeous.”
“I thought you might like it.”
He pulled out a chair for me, taking over from the waiter, who had been about to do it, with an easy grace. He wasn’t arrogant about it and he didn’t dismiss the waiter, he simply slid his hand into place before the waiter could touch the chair and gave the man a polite smile.
I took a seat, waiting until he was settled and our drinks were ordered before saying anything more. “You thought I might like it? How would you know? Or is that just a line you feed all the girls you bring here?”
“I’ve never brought a girl here, actually. I usually come here by myself.” He reached for his napkin, spreading it across his lap before his eyes met mine over the candlelit table. “I saw how you were looking at the ocean at the party. You’re still in love with the idea of living so close to it.”
“I am,” I admitted. “It’s different here than it is in New York. Everything seems to be centered around it here and not around the city itself or any of the landmarks.”
“We do have an appreciation for it, I guess.” He picked up his menu but didn’t lift it to cover his face. “Do you mind if I order for us?”
“Not at all.” The smells coming out of the kitchen were to die for. I was pretty sure everything they served would be great. “I’m not picky, but please don’t order any calamari.”
“No calamari, huh? Why not?” Amusement sparked in his eyes. “Anything else that’s off limits?”
“No, just the calamari. I don’t know why, but I just don’t like the texture of it in my mouth.” That was the first random fact I shared with him over dinner, but it was far from the last.
When we got back to my place hours later, I felt like I had a much better grip of who Rylen was. There was still a lot that I didn’t know about him, but what I did know was that I liked spending time with him, and I wanted to get to know more about him.
He walked me to my front door, holding my hand again. We’d been touching casually since I’d first grabbed his hand when we left. It was nice, the warmth of his strong hand in mine.
When he leaned in to kiss me, I lifted my face and allowed his lips to touch mine. It was like they were touching a live flipping wire for all the electricity that sped through my system. It was the kind of kiss I wanted to wrap myself up in and never come out. The kind of kiss that was so new and familiar all at once.
I moaned when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him, my arms sliding around his neck and into the soft hair at the base of his skull. It was the low sound of pleasure that escaped from him when I did it that brought me back to my senses.
I have to put a stop to this. Now. Lowering my hands to his chest, I pushed him away gently. “I can’t sleep with you on our first date, Rylen. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”
“I get it.” He really didn’t, but he did take a step away from me. “I agree. We should take this slow.”
“You’re okay with this?” I was surprised by how polite he was being about it. In my past experience, the little of it I had, guys didn’t like being stopped. I’d been called names, cursed at, and stomped away from.
Rylen didn’t do any of those things. “I’m more than okay with it. We should see each other again, though. Would that be okay with you?”
I felt my smile lifting my cheeks. “It would be more than okay with me.”
We said our goodbyes with one last soft, chaste kiss on the lips, and then Rylen was gone. When I closed my front door, I rested my back against it and let my head drop back, finally allowing myself to catch my breath.
Boy, was that ever a freaking kiss. I really hoped I would get to do it again.
Chapter 11
Rylen
“Dude, I am so hungover.” Edgar slumped against the wall in the break room, his sunglasses still on despite the fact that he was indoors. “I went out last night and it was half price on shots. Such a bad fucking idea.”
I lifted the coffee pot from the machine, pouring him a mug of the freshly brewed liquid. I handed it over without any sugar or milk. “Here, drink this. It will make you feel better.”
“I doubt it.” He took the cup from me, flopping into the closest armchair. Some of the scalding hot coffee dripped over the edge of the mug, causing him to curse when it hit his fingers. “Fuck. This day couldn’t get any worse.”
“It can.” I grabbed a plastic chair from the table and dragged it closer to him, turning it around so I was straddling it before sitting down. “We have to talk, buddy.”
Edgar’s face fell, his lips pursing as he nodded. “Just don’t yell too loudly at me, okay? I don’t think my head could take it.”
“I’m not going to yell.” I sucked in a deep breath, my nostrils flaring as I did. “You have to be more professional than this, Ed. I’m being serious. People’s lives are in our hands. You can’t fuck around with that. If you show up to work still half drunk and shaky, not only can the patients smell you, but it’s dangerous.”
He hung his head forward. “I know, and I will be. Today is only preop appointments, though. I know it will look bad if they smell me, but I’ve showered and stuff.”
Rising from the chair, I pointed at his coffee. “Finish that, then go wash your face. You’re too pale this morning. Don’t even think about coming near my patients if your eyes are bloodshot or if so much as one person has commented about the way you smell when you’re on your way over, okay?”
He lifted his hand to give me a two-fingered salute, but he didn’t say anything more. We had about an hour to kill before our first appointment, so I was hoping he could pull himself together in that time.
I got some paperwork done and read over the files of my first two appointments for the day. The first was Mr. McClennan. According to his admission papers, he was unmarried and hadn’t listed any next of kin.
When I got to his room, there was no one else in there but him. Often during these preop appointments, the patients brought friends and family with them. This man was totally alone.
I remembered the first time I’d examined him, but not so well as to recall whether he’d mentioned any friends. “Hi, Mr. McClennan. How are w
e doing today? Are you ready for your surgery?”
The man lifted his graying head from where he’d been staring at the stark white sheets, shrugging his broad shoulders. “If you’re asking if I did everything on that list of stuff you people gave me, I did. I haven’t been drinking, smoking, or eating junk.”
“That’s great news.” I grinned, but he didn’t return it. “Do you have any questions? Maybe about your recovery time or what’s going to happen during the surgery?”
“You ran me through the basics last time.” His gaze slid away from mine and out of the window next to his bed. “I don’t have any other questions. I don’t care about the surgery. It’s something I gotta do because of the heart attack, that’s it.”
I’d done a lot of these preop consultations, but not once had I met a man who was quite as far gone as this one. It was clear as day to see that he had nothing to live for, or at least he thought he didn’t.
I tried to get through to him for a few minutes. Edgar slipped into the room near the end of the appointment and he tried to quickly figure out what I was up to. There was no cheering him up, though.
When we walked out, Edgar’s voice was soft and sad. “Jeez. I hope I never end up like that. No life, no family, and apparently nothing to look forward to.”
I nodded my agreement. There was something profoundly sad about the man in that room. It had to be terrifying to be facing surgery like this with no one by your side. It also wasn’t exactly comforting for me as his surgeon to know he had nothing to fight for if anything went wrong.
The only good thing that had come out of the appointment was in that room, which had been nearly empty and with Edgar standing right next to me, I hadn’t caught so much of a whiff of alcohol coming off of him.
Our next appointment was the polar opposite of the first. The patient was a new father and his wife was sitting in the chair next to his bed, holding one of his hands while he cradled the baby in the other.
“Thank God you’re here, Doc. How’s it looking? What time am I going in tomorrow?” Mr. Ians asked, sharing a nervous look with his wife. “If it’s possible, could you fit me in early? I don’t want Gloria to have to wait it out for any longer than is necessary.”
He couldn’t have had a more different outlook on the surgery than Mr. McClennan did. “Your first on our list tomorrow morning, sir. We’ll take good care of you. I promise.”
I offered his wife a reassuring smile, but the one she returned was tight. “How long will it take, Doctor? I know you told us the last time we saw you, but I can’t seem to remember the details. They’re all a blur. I’m so sorry, it must be so annoying to have to repeat yourself.”
“It’s not a problem at all.” I went through all the details with them again, noting how the patient was trying to keep his wife calm all the way through. He kept patting her hand and muttering phrases like “You see, sweetie” and “I’ll be fine” and “You hear that? They’ll send someone out to give you updates whenever they can.”
Edgar stepped up to the spot beside the wife’s chair and held out his hand to her. “My name’s Edgar, ma’am. I’m the good doc’s right-hand man. Mine is the face to look for with the updates. I’ll be sure to come out to give them as often as I can, okay?”
“Okay.” She gave him a teary smile, nodding. “Thank you. We’re just so nervous. We can’t lose him. Maya and I need him. We love him so much.”
She buried her face in his side after that, her shoulders shaking on ragged sobs. Her husband bent his head down, whispering something to her.
“Everything will be fine,” I assured them. “I’ll make sure of it, okay?”
Technically, I couldn’t make promises like that. Looking at the grip Mr. Ians had on his baby and his wife’s hands with utter terror about his impending operation, I just couldn’t stop myself. Surgeons weren’t supposed to connect much with their patients.
We were called scalpel jockeys for a damn reason, but slice ’em and dice ’em just wasn’t my motto. “I promise you, Mrs. Ians. You and little Maya will have him back before you know it. We’re only going to need him for a couple of hours.”
Edgar and I stayed with them for a little while longer, answering questions and doing our best to comfort them. Mrs. Ians even gave me a small picture of their daughter to keep with me during the surgery “to give him something to hold on to if he needs to fight.”
When we walked out, Edgar released a heavy breath. “Did I say I didn’t want to end up like the first guy?”
I nodded, but Edgar shook his head. “I think I may have changed my mind. Having a wife and kids? Maybe the lonely life is the way to go. This surgery is absolutely brutal on those folks.”
“Yeah, it sure is.” Despite the fact that having a family wasn’t always sunshine and roses, that there was often bad to take with the good, I couldn’t agree with Edgar that I’d changed my mind. I still wanted what Mr. Ians had… Someday. Maybe. If I get really, really lucky.
Chapter 12
Olive
“I said I wanted one pickle and two slices of tomato on my hamburger. There is only one slice of tomato on it and it has two pickles.” The customer who was ranting at me lifted the top half of her bun off her burger and jabbed her finger at it while glaring at me. “This is pathetic service. Absolutely pathetic. Get your manager.”
She stuck her nose in the air and let out a huff before folding her arms, staring with deliberate intent out the window. My shoulders slumped. I’d given her order through to the kitchen exactly as she’d asked for the burger, but they must have mixed hers up with someone else’s.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. Let me take that for you. I’ll have a fresh one for you in a flash.” I reached for the plate, but she swatted my hand away.
“Get your manager,” she barked, still refusing to make eye contact with me. “Now.”
Tears burned at the backs of my eyes. On days like today, I really hated my job. I put up with customers like these because I had to, but every once in a while, it really bugged me. It made me understand why both Valerie and Heidi had quit as soon as they could.
Right now, given the choice, I would have done exactly the same thing. Under ordinary circumstances, I was loyal and I worked hard. It made it difficult for me to quit, no matter what I was being put through at work.
Enough was enough now, though. It wasn’t that I couldn’t put up with a difficult customer or with a little criticism, I could. What was bothering me was that people like this woman wouldn’t even listen to me when I tried to apologize—even when I hadn’t done anything wrong—simply because of my job title.
She would sort it out with my manager, who would tell her exactly the same thing I had, and accept it coming from her purely because she wore a badge that said “manager” on it. A position I had turned down only a few weeks ago, not that this customer cared about that.
Still, the customer was always right, and for as long as I held this job, that was just the way things had to be. “Of course, ma’am. Let me get her for you.”
I pivoted on my heel and went to the back office, explaining the situation to the manager before making my way back out into the dining room. Jenna appeared in the doorway, looking like a supermodel with her fiery hair falling in waves to her shoulders and a fire-engine red dress.
She grinned when she saw me, waving her hands like a lunatic. “Olive. I’m so glad I found you here. Take your lunch and come with me?”
I lifted my wrist and glanced down at it before grimacing. “I can’t. I’m only due for my lunch break in another twenty-five minutes.”
“Oh, come on. You’ll be fine.” She darted to my side, not even teetering a little in her very high heels, and started undoing the bow at my back that was holding my apron in place. “Come with me, please?”
I hadn’t given her an answer yet, but I felt the bow give and then her hands were lifting the straps off my neck and over my head. “Fine. Let me just tell the manager.”
“Excel
lent.” Jenna held the apron in her hands, shaking her head when I tried to take it from her. “No, I’ll let you put it away before we leave. If I give it to you now, you’re only going to put it back on.”
Snapping my fingers, I couldn’t hold back a smile. “Damn. Busted. How do you know me so well already?”
“I’m a fantastic judge of character.” She winked and made a shooing motion with her hand. I sighed but went to wait for the manager at the door to her office.
When she was done dealing with my difficult customer, I intercepted her before she could enter. “I’m taking my lunch break a little early. If that’s okay.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Of course. Don’t worry about that woman. Enjoy your lunch and hurry back, okay?”
“You got it. Thank you.”
When I got back to Jenna, she shot me a questioning look. I nodded in response. “Sure, but let me put my apron away first.”
She handed it over willingly this time, trailing behind me when I went to store it in the break room. Once that was done, I turned to face her. “Okay, what was so urgent that I needed to take my lunch break right this minute?”
“We’re going to eat.” She grabbed my arm, linked it through hers and chatted with me all the way to a restaurant closest to the pier. We were seated in a booth near the back and had ordered mocktails and nachos before she let me in on what she had wanted to discuss with me.
Jenna leaned forward in the seat, placing her forearms but not her elbows on the table between us. “Why are you still working at that restaurant? I thought we’d established you didn’t enjoy it there.”
“We did.” I mirrored her pose, sinking my teeth into my lower lip and averting my gaze. My pride had taken a knock earlier, and it was about to do it again. “I don’t have any other options right now, okay? I need another job before I can quit this one and even if I find one, I still need to put my two weeks’ notice in.”