"Haley, I was just about to call you."
"Star, what the hell happened? Sandra just called and said you didn't show up to work yesterday. She said you didn't even call. She gave the job to someone else."
"What? No!" I sit up, cringing from the pain. "She can't give the job away! I need that job! It's the only reason I moved here."
"Star, you can't not show up to work and expect to keep the job. What happened? Why didn't you go?"
"It's a long story but basically my car died and I had to take my bike to work and I was almost there but then a car hit me and I ended up in the hospital."
"Oh my God, are you okay?"
"Yes. I mean, kind of. I have a concussion and some stitches and bruises and stuff but otherwise I'm okay. I need to call Sandra and explain. I'll call her right now and then call you back."
"It's too late. She gave the job to someone else."
"But if I explained what happened, maybe she'd reconsider. I at least need to try. I'll call you later, okay?"
"Yeah. And hey, I hope you feel better. Sorry I can't be there with you."
"Just send me one of your e-cards. That'll cheer me up."
Haley sends e-cards for any occasion, or no occasion at all. She just likes sending cards, especially animated ones with dogs or cats doing funny things.
"Let me know how it goes," she says. "Love you! Bye!"
I immediately find Sandra's number in my phone and call her.
"Sandra Caldwell's office," a guy says. "How can I assist you?"
That's the guy who got my job! I should be the one answering the phone, not him.
"Could I speak with Sandra, please?"
"Who may I ask is calling?"
"It's Star." I glance over at Dr. Sterling, who's standing at the window looking at his phone. Why is he still here? Doesn't he have other patients to see?
"Star who?" the guy on the phone asks.
"Star Jenkins."
He sighs. "I'll put you through but make it quick. She has a meeting in five minutes."
He's not very friendly. I'd make a much better assistant.
"This is Sandra," she says in a curt tone.
"Sandra, hi." I race the words out before she hangs up. "I just wanted to explain what happened yesterday. My car broke down and I had to bike to work and when I went to cross the street, someone hit me and I had to go to the hospital. I wasn't able to call until—"
"Who is this?" she snaps.
"It's Star, your new assistant?" I shouldn't have said it like a question. I should've just acted like the job is mine. Haley said Sandra likes confident, assertive people. "I missed work because I'm in the hospital but I'll be there tomorrow. I promise."
Sterling appears beside me, a stern look on his face as he shakes his head. I ignore him. I'm injured and sick, but not enough to keep me from working. I just have to sit at a desk and answer phones. I can handle that.
"The job has been given to someone else," Sandra says.
"But I didn't do this on purpose. I swear! I was almost there. I was even early and then—"
"I don't have time for this. The job belongs to someone else. Goodbye, Star." She hangs up.
I sigh as I lie back on the pillow. "She gave someone else the job."
Sterling takes the phone from me. "Let me call her. I'll explain your condition and why you couldn't be there."
"I already told her all that and she didn't care. She's not going to give me the job. It's someone else's now."
"If I tell her it was impossible for you to be there, I'm sure she'll understand. She can't be that unreasonable."
"Believe me, she is. Ask Haley. She hated working for Sandra but the job pays really well so she put up with her." I cough, wincing from the pain it's causing my ribs. "I really needed that job. I'm out of money, my car is broke and—" I cough again and sit up. "I have to get out of here." I shove the sheet back.
Sterling yanks it back over me. "You're not going anywhere until you've been cleared to leave."
"I can't. I don't..." I look away, tears threatening to fall. I don't usually cry so maybe it's the meds. Or maybe it's because I feel so hopeless right now.
I feel Sterling's hand on my arm as he softly asks, "You don't what?"
"I don't um..." I look down. "I don't have insurance. And I don't have money. I can't pay for this. I'm sure I've already racked up thousands of dollars in bills and I can't pay for it. I can't stay here."
"Don't worry about it." He sits next to me. "It's all taken care of."
My eyes goes to his. "What do you mean?"
"Insurance will cover it."
"But I just told you, I don't have insurance."
"There's coverage under the car insurance. Coverage for medical costs."
"Oh." I pause a moment, thinking back to the accident. "I don't even know who hit me. It happened so fast I didn't have a chance to look at the car or see who was driving it."
He looks down. "About that."
"About what? Do you know who it was?"
His eyes go back to mine. "It was me. I was the one who hit you."
Chapter Four
Star
"You're the one who hit me?" I ask. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did, but then you acted like I didn't so—
"When did you tell me?"
"When you were awake earlier."
"I was awake?"
"You woke up several times but not for long. The pain meds made you drowsy and really out of it. I'm not surprised you don't remember us talking."
"I don't even remember waking up." I pause to see if I can recall anything from the past twenty-four hours, but the last thing I remember is lying on the ground with some guy holding my hand.
"Was that you?" I ask.
His brows furrow. "What do you mean?"
"On the street. The guy sitting beside me, holding my hand. That was you, right?"
He nods. "As soon as I realized what happened, I raced out of my car to see if you were okay. I called for help and stayed with you until the ambulance arrived. I would've gone with you to the hospital but the police had me stay and fill out an accident report. They'll want to talk to you as well, when you're able to."
"Why?"
"In case you want to...you know." He hesitates. "Press charges."
"Press charges?"
"I understand if you do."
"I don't want to press charges. I mean, it was an accident, right? It's not like you hit me on purpose."
"Yes, but still. I should've been more cautious. It's just that I was running late and had a lot on my mind and—" He stops suddenly and shakes his head. "Forget all that. It's no excuse for what I did. I should've been more careful."
"So what exactly happened? Because all I remember is seeing the walk signal counting down, then next thing I know I'm being thrown off my bike."
He sighs. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even see you. I was turning right on a red and looked left but you were coming from the right. I didn't look in time to see you. Plus it was raining and my window was fogged up and—" He sighs again. "I can't tell you enough how sorry I am." He puts his hand over mine. He does that a lot. I wonder if it's something he does with everyone or just with patients. Maybe it's something they teach you in medical school. I don't mind that he does it. Actually, I like it. It's comforting and makes me feel better.
"So are you my doctor?"
"No." He takes his hand off mine and sits back a little. "I am a physician but you're not my patient."
"Then why are you here?"
"To make sure you're okay."
I check my phone for the time. "It's ten-fifteen. Don't you need to be at work?"
"I'm taking time off. I took yesterday off as well."
"Because of the accident? Did you get hurt too?"
"No, I'm fine. But I couldn't leave you, knowing what had happened. I had to know you're okay."
I look him over; his wrinkled clothes, messy hair, unshaven face. "Have you been here t
his whole time?"
"I have. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable. I just needed to know you're okay, and being a physician myself, I wanted to make sure you were getting the best care possible. Which you are, by the way. This hospital and its staff are excellent." He grins slightly. "Of course, I could be a little biased given that I work here, but that aside, you really are getting the best possible care. And don't worry about any expenses outside of what my insurance covers. I'll take care of any and all bills."
How would he have the money for that? Med school costs a fortune and there's no way he's paid off his loans already.
I look at him, my head cocked. "How old are you?"
"Let me guess...you think I'm too young to be a doctor," he says with a smile.
I really like his smile. It's sexy. Confident. The rest of him is sexy too. I wonder if he's married. I glance down at his hand. No ring.
"How old do you think I am?" he asks.
"I don't know. Maybe 27? 28?"
"Good guess. I'm 28."
"And you're already a doctor? I thought doctors were still in school at your age. Don't you have to do like ten years of school?"
"It's four years of college, three years of med school and a residency. Most people finish their residency at 29 but I started college a year early so I finished my residency last year."
"And you work here at the hospital?"
"Not actually in the hospital but at the clinic that's attached to it. It's the urgent care clinic. We see broken bones, sore throats, and everything in between."
"Huh." I stare at him and he stares back, that slight grin still on his face. I almost feel like he's flirting with me but I'm sure it's just the meds messing with my brain. Why would he flirt with me? He doesn't even know me. I'm just some random girl he hit with his car.
"You're a mess," I blurt out, then realize I said what I was thinking out loud.
Sterling laughs, a deep sexy laugh that matches his sexy smile. "Is it the hair or the clothes? Or am I just a mess in general?"
"Sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I just noticed your wrinkled clothes and blurted it out without thinking. I don't do well with meds. I say stuff I shouldn't."
"I noticed."
"What do you mean?"
He chuckles. "You were pretty talkative earlier."
"I thought I was asleep."
"You've been in and out of sleep, but in the few times you were awake, you were quite talkative."
"I was? What did I say?" I feel my face warming, worried I said something embarrassing.
"It doesn't matter. Like you said, it didn't mean anything. It was the meds talking."
I squeeze my eyes shut. "Oh God, it was bad, wasn't it? Just tell me. I need to know."
He gets up and moves the chair that's next to my bed so that it's facing me. He sits down and rubs his hand over his chin, his eyes on the ceiling. "Well, let's see."
He's purposely drawing this out, making me more and more nervous about what he's going to say.
"Just spit it out, Sterling. I don't have time for this."
"Actually, you have nowhere else to be right now," he says with that perfect smile.
"Just tell me."
He cocks his head. "Why'd you call me Sterling?"
"Because it's your name."
"It's my LAST name."
"Yeah? So? You didn't tell me your first name. Would you rather I call you Doc? Or Dr. Sterling?"
"I'd rather have you call me by my name."
"Which is what?"
"Corbin. Corbin Sterling the third."
"The third? Huh. Your family really likes that name."
"It's a legacy thing. I come from a long line of physicians. My father's a heart surgeon, and my grandfather, the first Corbin Sterling, was a brain surgeon."
"Impressive. So why aren't you a surgeon?"
He holds his hand out. "Not steady enough. I played basketball as a kid and broke a finger. It damaged the nerves and it's never quite been the same. If I try to do something that requires a steady hand, this finger starts to shake." He wiggles his index finger.
"That's too bad. I bet the other Corbins were pissed you ruined your chance to continue the legacy," I joke.
He doesn't laugh and I notice his jaw stiffen. "Pissed doesn't even come close to describing how angry they were. After it happened, I never touched a basketball again. My father took it away and banned all sports from then on. He and my grandfather won't even watch basketball on TV. It makes them too angry."
"You're still a doctor. They've gotta be happy about that. It's every parent's dream to have their kid grow up to be a doctor."
"For them, that's not enough. I was supposed to be a heart surgeon like my dad." He shrugs it off. "Enough about me. Tell me about you. You said you're from Worcester?"
"Yeah. Been there my whole life. I moved here for that assistant job but I guess that's not happening now."
"Let me talk to her. She can't be that unreasonable. What happened wasn't your fault. I'm sure I could get her to change her mind."
"You won't change her mind. Besides, she already has someone else, and honestly, I really didn't want to work for her. Haley used to go home crying from that job. She was so stressed her hair was falling out."
"And this girl got you the job? Doesn't sound like much of a friend."
"She warned me it'd be bad but I really needed the money so I was willing to put up with Sandra."
"Can I at least try talking to her? That is, if you still want the job. Personally I don't think you should work for someone like that. There's gotta be other jobs out there. Ones without an abusive boss."
"Maybe but they won't pay as well."
"It's not always about money."
"Says the rich doctor. Actually, you're probably poor until you pay off your student loans."
"Don't have any."
"Really?"
"My parents paid for school. So yes, you're correct. I am comfortable financially."
Why can't rich people just say they're rich? Instead they avoid it like it's a dirty word and use phrases like 'comfortable financially'.
"Maybe I could help you get a job," he says. "Is there anything in particular you're interested in?"
"I don't want to talk about that right now. I want to know what I said earlier. Stop changing the subject and just tell me."
A slight smile crosses his face. "I don't think I should."
"Why? Was it that bad? Was I being inappropriate? Using curse words? I'm telling you, it's because of the drugs. It's why I avoid meds of any kind." I sneeze. "Even cold meds." I sniffle.
He hands me a tissue. "You have a cold by the way."
"Yeah, I noticed that." I roll my eyes. "As if getting hit by a car and losing my job wasn't enough. Anyway, going back to what I said, just spit it out."
"Okay, well, when you first woke up you said—"
He stops as the door swings open. A nurse walks in with a wheelchair. "They're ready for you downstairs."
Corbin gets up from his chair.
I point at him. "Don't think this means we won't be finishing this."
He just smiles as he takes the wheelchair from the nurse and moves it beside my bed.
"I'm serious," I tell him. "We're continuing this when I get back."
He helps me stand up. "How do you feel? Dizzy? Lightheaded?"
"I'm fine." I look at him as he helps me in the chair. "You'll still be here, right? When I'm back from the tests?" I hear the desperation in my tone.
I don't even know the guy but I don't want him to leave. If he leaves I'll be alone. I usually don't mind being alone but being alone in the hospital really sucks. And Corbin, because of his training in bedside manner, or just his general personality, makes me feel more relaxed.
"I'll be right here." He gives my hand a squeeze.
"You might want to use this break to take a shower," the nurse says, smiling at Corbin.
"Is it that bad?" he asks, sniffing his shirt.
She laughs. "No, but you've been here since she arrived. And you haven't slept. The shower might at least help wake you up. Why don't you use one of the showers here? There's plenty of extra scrubs to change into."
"That's a good idea." He leans down to me. "I'll clean up and meet you back here."
"Thanks." I feel bad making him stay but I really don't want him to leave.
The nurse starts wheeling me toward the door.
"Wait." I grab Corbin's arm.
He turns back to me. "What is it?"
"What's happening? Where are they taking me? What are they going to do?"
"They'll test your vision. Ask you some questions. They're just trying to assess the severity of your concussion."
"So no needles?"
He smiles. "No needles. And no scary machines. They did all those tests yesterday."
"They did?"
"Yes. You were awake but out of it. That's why you don't remember."
I feel the area next to my eye where he said I got stitches. "Was I asleep when they did this?"
He chuckles. "You were but then you woke up."
"Why are you laughing?"
"Because you smacked the doctor in the head. Actually, you hit him with your fist, right in the eye."
"Oh my God, is he okay?"
"He's fine. Your punch didn't have much strength behind it."
"Still, I feel bad that I hit someone."
Corbin leans down by my ear so the nurse can't hear. "Don't worry about it. You hit Dukin. We went to med school together. I never liked the guy so I'm actually glad you punched him. It made me instantly like you."
I smile. "Okay, well, that makes me feel a little better."
"We need to go," the nurse says.
Corbin looks at me with those deep brown eyes. "Relax. You're going to be fine."
Oddly, I believe him. I don't know why I trust this guy so much and believe what he tells me but for some reason I do.
The nurse whisks me away and we go down a floor to a small exam room. A doctor shows up and takes me through a series of tests to assess my brain health. When I'm done I wait in the room for the nurse to come back and take me upstairs.
She finally arrives and when I get back to my room, it's empty. Corbin isn't there. What if he decided not to come back? What if he got in trouble for missing work and had to leave? Or maybe he just got tired of sitting here with me. I can't believe he's been here since I arrived. And that he hasn't slept.
Lucky Star Page 3