Believe In Me (Paradise Place Book 7)

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Believe In Me (Paradise Place Book 7) Page 2

by Natalie Ann


  At first he was shocked there was no one else that could take over, but they’d assured him there wasn’t anyone they saw fit in their eyes. They offered him a partnership and he was now Vice President and the youngest one in the company. It might not be the location he always wanted, but that shouldn’t matter. A goal achieved was a goal achieved.

  He pulled his Mercedes in the garage. Hell, he didn’t even own a car until a month ago. There was no need when he took taxis everywhere or walked. If he was going out of the city he rented a car.

  The door to the house from the garage was unlocked, so he walked in. He probably should change the locks on the house. Didn’t they say you should do that when you bought something new? But then he figured why bother? Ryan was right down the street and since he’d built the house, if he really wanted to get in, changing the locks on the front door wouldn’t stop him.

  When he was walking around the huge empty house he thought again to himself...what the hell was he going to do with all this space? Spend money most likely.

  He liked that the house was main-floor living with a master on one side, and two bedrooms and a full bath on the other. There was even a small office in the front of the house that he’d be spending a lot of time in.

  When he walked up the stairs, the loft was massive. Maybe a pool table could go up here. Not that he had any friends that would come play a game with him. Hell, when was the last time he did anything with a friend? Or had someone he could consider a friend?

  What a pathetic life he led. There were another bedroom and bath up here and he figured it’d be a nice guest spot when his family visited, giving everyone space.

  He heard the truck out front and ran down the steps to open the front door for the movers to start bringing everything in.

  And three hours later, he was finally happy with the placement of the furniture and had his TV installed on the wall in his room and living room. After the movers left, he’d run to the store to get some food and drinks and got to work unpacking kitchen boxes.

  He took a break and made a quick sandwich, grabbed a bottle of water and walked around the house while he ate, trying to decide the next room to tackle. Probably clothes in his bedroom at least. He had to remind himself that he didn’t need to do it all in one day.

  This wasn’t a race to the finish.

  It wasn’t a competition.

  It was just him unpacking in a large house by himself.

  He should slow down or he was going to be bored by tomorrow, which was only Tuesday, and he wasn’t going into the office until next Monday. Maybe he’d go in earlier than that. Just to say hi. Yeah, good excuse. He could be out running errands and stop in.

  When he finished up his sandwich, he went back to his room and pulled over a few boxes. Damn, the movers had taped these bitches tight, making him go find a box cutter to break it open.

  Holding the box with his left hand and using the knife with his right, he’d totally misjudged what he was doing and sliced the palm of his hand and part of his finger when the tape stuck and he jerked it too hard.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  The box was open so he reached in and grabbed a shirt at random and wrapped it around his hand and applied pressure. Hopefully it’d stop bleeding.

  But ten minutes later, it wasn’t and was pretty deep. Deep enough that he gagged looking at it. At least he didn’t pass out, he thought.

  He didn’t have a doctor around here, nor did he even know where the closest hospital was. Then he remembered there was an urgent care center on the way to his office not more than five minutes from here.

  With his left hand wrapped tight, he held it against his chest remembering he’d read once that it should be held up high if he was bleeding. He wasn’t putting it over his head and looking like a fool though.

  He managed to get buckled in and drive the car the few miles one handed. Not bad for a guy that didn’t drive much.

  It was a little after one and thankfully the place wasn’t too busy. The woman at the desk took one look at his hand wrapped up and blood on the outside of his shirt and said, “Yep, you’re coming in the back with me. We’ll fill your paperwork out there.”

  Twenty minutes went by and the curtain opened. “So you cut your hand?”

  “Yeah. On a box cutter when I was unpacking,” he said.

  “I’m Nikki, one of the Physician Assistant’s here. Let me take a look.”

  He held his hand out, the slightest movement just throbbing enough to make his eyes cross.

  “Well, you need stitches, that’s a given,” Nikki said. “But I’m more concerned you might have cut through a tendon. If we stitch you up, it’s going to be harder for a surgeon to see, and be a bigger pain removing the stitches.”

  “So I need to go to the ER?” he asked, wanting to just rewind this day. “I don’t even know where it is.”

  “I don’t think you need to be tortured doing that,” Nikki said. “There’s an orthopedic center a few miles from here and they’ve got outpatient ORs. Sit tight and let me see if I can get you over there. They might not have anyone available and you will end up having to go to the ER. So fingers crossed. Just not crossed on your left hand.”

  He wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much. “Thanks,” he said.

  She pulled her phone out, placed the call, was put on hold, then he listened while she explained the situation. “Wonderful. He’ll be there shortly. I’m going to give him a shot to numb him now as I think he’s in some pain, but I’ll wrap him up good. Yep, yep, will do,” she said and hung up the phone.

  “Guess it’s my lucky day,” he said.

  She grinned. “You won’t think that when I give you the three shots they just asked me to. The first one will be the worst, then it will kick in. But by the time you get there you won’t feel any pain at all. Just don’t try to do anything with it. They will be poking around and this will make it much easier for you.”

  “Thanks. I think.” He sat there while she moved to the side and filled up a syringe, then turned his head as he didn’t really want to watch. He’d never thought he was squeamish over things before, but that was before he passed out.

  When the first needle went in he thought he was going to throw up, the pain was so bad, the burn of it more than anything. But she was right and the next two were tolerable.

  “Did you come in yourself?” she asked.

  “I did. I can drive there if you tell me where it is. Or give me the address. I’ll just put it in my phone. I’m not sure where anything is, as I literally closed on my house today.”

  “Give me your phone if you don’t mind.”

  He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over, thanked Nikki and then got in his car and drove away.

  He was already regretting this move.

  2

  Pleasant Conversation

  “Sarah. We’ve got a patient coming in shortly. Nikki just called from urgent care. Guess he cut his palm and the base of his finger pretty good and they’re worried there was a cut tendon and didn’t want to stitch him up.”

  Sarah turned to the patient coordinator that just walked into the back where she was typing notes in from her last patient. She hadn’t been sure she’d like working for a specialty practice after coming from the OR at Albany Med outpatient. But Dr. Wang had been impressed with her during a few procedures he’d done and recruited her to his practice with his partners. It was still Albany Med, but not quite as busy. Or so she thought until she started working.

  “Thanks. Who is going to see him so I know which room to get ready?”

  “Dr. Force is still at the hospital and Dr. Wang is with patients. I believe Dr. Brooks is finishing up with someone now if you want to go into OR three and get it ready. He’s going to need stitches at the very least.”

  “On the way,” she said, finishing up fast and then grabbing her laptop to move to one of the smaller ORs. They could do just about any orthopedic outpatient surgery here, but this room was for minor
procedures where the patient was normally still awake. Situations just like this.

  She was setting everything up and moving around the room when the door opened and the nurse came in with a man that looked like he’d just walked off the cover of GQ magazine. Holy hell. Talk about yummy eye candy.

  That was one good thing about this job. She got to talk to her patients and follow up with them too. Though as handsome as this man was, he looked pretty frazzled.

  “Sarah, this is Caden Finley. His information is in the computer. Dr. Brooks is running a bit behind, I believe, but Caden has been numbed already by urgent care and wrapped up.”

  “Okay. I’ve got it covered. Thanks, Beth. Hi, Caden, I’m Sarah. I’ll be your OR nurse today. Why don’t you have a seat and I can take a look before Dr. Brooks comes in.”

  “So you’ll know how bad it is?” he asked.

  “Well, I’m not a surgeon if that is what you’re asking. But I want to get the bandages off and keep the bleeding minimal while I can so that you’re ready when she gets in here.”

  “She?” he asked.

  “Yes. Dr. Brooks is a woman. Is that a problem?” She hoped he wasn’t one of those sexist people that couldn’t have a woman doctor.

  “No problem at all. I just never know when you only hear their last name.”

  Sarah nodded her head and started to take the bandage off slowly. When he winced, she stopped. “How is the pain? I was told you were numbed. It shouldn’t be wearing off.”

  “It’s fine. I think there is dried blood on my wrist and it just stuck to it. I’m probably looking like a wuss in your eyes, but when it tugged I got a vision of everything in my hand being pulled out.”

  She grinned. “Don’t think that. We won’t let it happen here. You’re in good hands. No pun intended.”

  “No worries. Anything to take my mind off of it.”

  “So how did this happen?” she asked as she finished unwrapping his hand. He was going to need a lot of stitches, but the bleeding had slowed down quite a bit. Whether there was damage or not inside wasn’t something she’d know, nor would she poke around to check. If it was gaping open she’d be able to see, but it was a clean cut that should heal nicely without a major scar.

  “Unpacking,” he said. “I closed on my house today and the box cutter got stuck on the tape and I jerked it and misjudged my hand and here we are having this pleasant conversation.”

  She smiled. She didn’t think he was flirting with her—and she’d know since she’d been hit on plenty by coworkers and patients alike—but more like trying to distract himself.

  “That sounds like a stinky way to start in a new house.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “So are you from around here?” she asked.

  “No. Originally outside of Philly, but the past fourteen years I’ve lived in Manhattan.”

  “Going to be a big change here,” she said.

  She knew that first hand after her brother moved back to Colonie. He was a pitcher for the Mets and almost two years ago his career ended when he was in an auto accident shattering his right arm. When Harris moved home, he’d felt lost and bored at the same time.

  That is until he met Kaelyn, fell in love, and now had a beautiful little daughter. Scarlet just turned a year old two weeks ago and Sarah loved spending time with her niece.

  Did she think she’d be married and have a kid or two of her own by now? Yeah, she did.

  She’d just turned thirty and finding a man was the last thing she was even going to think about anymore.

  “Starting with this,” he said.

  “What brought you here?” she asked. “Why don’t you just lie back in the chair for now. The doctor should be in soon, but get comfy. She’ll probably have you move to the table if she needs to dig around.”

  He winced and then paled a little when she said that, then leaned back in the chair. “Work.”

  Didn’t sound like he was going to elaborate, which was fine. She wasn’t trying to be nosy as much as making conversation. “Well, I hope you don’t need your left hand for work because it will be out of commission at least two weeks minimum if it’s only stitches.”

  He snorted. “Nothing more than a keyboard. Though the rest of the boxes in my house are most likely going to stay filled up. Nah. I can do it one handed.”

  So someone that couldn’t sit still. “Are you going to be a difficult patient and not follow orders?” she asked.

  He laughed. “I might have had the word difficult thrown my way a time or two.”

  “Haven’t we all.”

  She turned her head when the door opened and Dr. Brooks came in. “I hear you’ve got a nasty cut on your hand. I’m Dr. Brooks. No need to shake even though it’s your other hand. Let me take a look. Thanks, Sarah.”

  She moved out of the way for Dr. Brooks to slide in. She liked how Dr. Brooks always thanked the staff. Was nice to them and talked to them like people, not employees. Even Dr. Wang and Dr. Force did too, but they were older and a little bit more formal.

  She was fine with it. They treated her well and that was all she cared about.

  “Can you feel when I do this?” Dr. Brooks asked. Sarah turned her head to see Caden not watching what was being done. Very normal for most people.

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Good. I’m going to just look inside the cut. If you think you’re going to get queasy or lightheaded, just let me know.”

  “I’m good if I’m not watching. Just don’t tell me what you’re doing and I’ll be better.”

  Sarah grinned and figured she’d try to distract him again. Dr. Brooks always appreciated that. “Today is poor Caden’s house closing. Not a good way to spend the first day in your new home.”

  “No, it’s not,” Dr. Brooks said. “But, the good news is, I don’t see any cut or damaged tendons or ligaments. If there is such a thing as a good clean cut, you managed it.”

  “Yay me,” he said.

  Both she and Dr. Brooks laughed. “Sarah, why don’t we numb him again. Then I’m going to stitch you up and we can get you on your way.”

  “Am I going to feel the stitches?” he asked.

  “No,” Dr. Brooks said. “You shouldn’t. But I’d rather cover it. You’ll be in some pain tonight. This will hold you over and we’ll give you a script for some pain meds.”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t like taking anything. Motrin or Tylenol will be fine.”

  “Not too much Motrin. Tylenol is better. Motrin thins the blood,” Dr. Brooks said. “At least give it a day or so. Or we can give you the script.”

  “I’m good,” he said. “Like you said, it’s a clean cut. It’s a long way from my heart.”

  At least he wasn’t being a total baby about it when she’d seen men much bigger than him be that way.

  Though he was pretty tall when he came in, a little over six foot, but not heavy. More like lean. Skinny wasn’t a good word. He had a T-shirt on, and she saw his biceps so he had muscle on him. She was a sucker for a lean body.

  Which she had no right to even be thinking of and wondered what came over her...other than the fact that he was pretty darn hot.

  “You ready for this?” she asked Caden when she had the needle in her hand.

  He turned his head. “Give it your best.”

  “Well now, that might be the first I’ve heard that in the OR.”

  When Dr. Brooks laughed, she realized she probably shouldn’t have said that. Or that it could be taken out of context.

  She moved back after that and pushed over the table with the needles and sutures for Dr. Brooks to stitch Caden’s hand. When Dr. Brooks was done, she said, “Sarah, if you can dress and wrap this for me.”

  “Sure can,” she said.

  “Caden, you can make an appointment for a week from now so we can just make sure it’s healing well. Then another for two weeks for the stitches to come out. Sarah will go over your care for the next few weeks with you.”

  “T
hanks,” he said.

  “You did good,” Sarah said when Dr. Brooks was out of the room. She got some Steri-Strips and glue, put them over the stitches, then wrapped his palm back up and moved over to her computer. “I’m going to just print out instructions for you.” He nodded his head while she went into his chart and found the form, then filled in what he needed to do and printed it out. “I’m going to grab this from the printer. Hang tight.”

  He laughed. “I’ve got nowhere I need to be.”

  She shook her head over what she’d said. That’s twice now she’d said something silly without meaning to.

  When she came back she handed it over to him to read. “Do you have any questions?”

  “Nope. Keeping it dry for two days is going to be tough.”

  “The Steri-Strips will help.” She moved to the other end of the room and pulled out several latex gloves. “This should fit you and will do the trick. I know you won’t be able to keep it completely dry. You’ve got to wash your hands and all.”

  “If you told me I couldn’t wash my hand for two weeks I’d be a little disgusted.”

  “You’d be surprised how many people wouldn’t care,” she said. It always drove her insane how unclean someone could be. “But I’d say if you wore a glove for the next week until you see me again when you are washing dishes or showering that will go a long way. If you get a little water on it, just pat it dry. What we don’t want you to do is drench it.”

  “I can handle that,” he said. “Thanks for everything.”

  “No problem. Is someone waiting out there to drive you home?”

  “I drove myself here just fine. Thankfully I don’t drive a stick. Never quite mastered it.”

  “It’s a lost art, my brother often tells me.”

  Harris had tried to teach her to drive a standard for years, but she insisted there was no need for it. Most people didn’t have a manual transmission unless they were buying a sports car. She had no need or desire for one.

  “I’ll have to take your word for it. Or your brother’s. I haven’t driven much in my life living in the city.”

 

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