Saving Sullivan

by Sara Hubbard

  When I return to the room, Sullivan is still asleep. I walk to the curtains and open them a fraction to let some light in the room. Then, I watch him, wondering if it's really possible to be his friend when I’m so obviously attracted to him. Shirtless Sullivan is an experience, both in self-control and visual imagery. His chest isn’t bulky but it’s toned and tanned, each line of his abdomen clearly defined. And he has a spattering of freckles on his shoulders and about a half dozen or so on his nose and cheeks. Cute and sexy—and annoying as all hell.

  His eyes flutter open and I look to the window, staring out at the trees behind the hotel.

  He clears his throat. “Good morning, Abby.”

  Crap. The way he says my name is husky, raspy. Perfect. “Morning,” I say back.

  He yawns. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  He sits up and stretches out his arms. I watch his movements, the way his muscles flex and relax, and when he catches me staring I turn my attention to putting some coffee in the coffee maker.

  He orders breakfast and showers while we wait. By the time it arrives, he’s changed into sweats and a t-shirt. We eat in silence, me digging in and eating everything on my plate and then when he decides all he wants is black coffee, I eat everything on his plate, too.

  “I can’t get over how much you eat. You weigh like eighty pounds soaking wet.”

  “One hundred and ten, thank you.”

  “I think you’re the first girl I've met who'll admit her weight. Unless you’re rounding down.”

  “Nope. One ten. At least last time I checked.”

  He leans back in his chair, holding his cup in two hands. I mirror his movements, only I sink back into my chair, holding my stomach. I think I ate too much. I’ll be bloated and feeling gross the whole drive to the resort. You’d think I'd learn my lesson, but I do this every time I sit down to eat. I just can’t stand to waste good food.

  We pack our stuff soon after and get on the road. The wind is in my hair and my eyes are closed. The sun shines in, bathing me in warmth. I hold my hands up and open my fingers, dragging them through the wind. I can feel Sullivan’s eyes on me but I don’t look at him. Each time I do, he draws me in a little deeper and that’s exactly the kind of thing I don’t need.

  “We’ll be there in ten,” he says as we meander along the road around the mountain. I swear I can see the end of the world up here. Snow capped mountains in the distance, Canada geese flying overhead in the shape of a V, massive white clouds gently rolling over the sky. This place is gorgeous and I’m glad I get to see it at least once in my lifetime.

  “I’m excited to see the resort," I say, a little bit giddy. "I Googled it, but I somehow doubt the pictures do it justice.”

  “It’s one of the better resorts I’ve stayed in, but I think that’s more for the extra circular activities than anything else.”

  “You mean sex?”

  He coughs like he’s choking, before shaking it off and laughing. “You sure don’t hold back when it comes to speaking your mind, do you?”

  I offer a shrug. “Seems we both have that problem.”

  “Touché. But no, that’s not what I meant. I like camping, hiking, water sports, golf, horseback riding…they have it all.”

  “Sounds fun. I like that stuff, too. My family and I do a lot of outdoor stuff together. We camp a lot in the summer and my brother, Dylan, actually does guided-hiking tours in the summer when he’s not deployed or on tasking.”

  “Well, I’ll make sure to shoot you a text whenever we go camping or hiking. You can come with.”

  I smile over at him. “Yeah, that’d be great. I don’t know a soul here. I was sure I’d be all by myself all summer. Not a friend in the world.”

  “Well, you have one now.”

  “I do. Feels good.”

  He scratches the scruff on his chin and turns the music down a touch. There’s a pop song playing on the radio and it’s one I’ve never heard before.

  “So you said your brother’s in the military?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” I ask him. I don’t remember everything I’ve spilled to him since we met but I know my nerves caused me to talk at him—a lot—on the plane and in the car.

  “Surprisingly, no.” He gives me a wink and I playfully slap his shoulder.

  “So my oldest brother is a cop and my other brothers are in the infantry. Michael is a sniper and Dylan is an armoured vehicle driver.”

  “Fuck. Should I be nervous? They’re not going to come out here and attack me for sleeping with their sister, are they?”

  I glance at him with an ‘are you crazy?’ face. “If I told them, which is exactly why I didn’t.”

  “I imagine they’ve intimidated more than one of your boyfriends.”

  “I guess so. I’ve never actually had a boyfriend, per se. I’ve dated a little but after they meet my dad and my brothers, that’s it. Game over. Particularly when Dylan and Michael put their uniforms on and clean their hunting rifles at the dinner table. Then there’s Clay…he’s a cop…and he always wears a weapon belt.”

  “Fuck. Remind me never to meet your family.”

  “Still want to be my friend?”

  He chuckles. “Is there any other way after hearing all that?”

  I smile in his direction. “I suppose not.”

  We pass the accident scene in silence. There are still some car parts on the side of the road. On the radio earlier, we heard that three people died in the accident here. Kind of makes you think…if we’d been there just a little earlier, it could have been us. I can’t even think about that. Losing me would permanently wreck my father—he barely survived losing my mother.

  We pull up in front of Stone Cliff about an hour later. The air is different here, cleaner. The smell of pine and freshly cut grass permeates the air and I suck it in.

  “Wow,” I say. My gaze is everywhere as I turn my head in all directions. “The mountains…the lake…the cabins. This place is beautiful.”

  “That’s why it costs eight thousand dollars a week for a suite.”

  I gulp. “What?”

  The valet opens the door for me and I spend a few minutes talking with him. Once he finds out I’m staff we exchange names. He asks where I’m from because I apparently have an accent. Who knew? When he finds out I’m from Nova Scotia, it amazes me to discover he comes from Nova Scotia, too—from Sydney. I should have placed his own accent right away but it sounds so similar to the Newfoundland one.

  “You should come to the Cave tonight,” he says. “The staff party there at night. It’ll be a good time. I can introduce to some people.”

  “Wow. That’s really nice of you, Ricky.”

  Sullivan clears his throat.

  The valet turns around. “Sorry, sir. I’ll take those.”

  Sullivan drops the keys into the valet’s hand and slips him a twenty.

  “Should I drop your bags off at Mountain View?” the valet asks.

  Sullivan nods. “Except for the floral one. That will go to Ms. Claire’s accommodations.”

  Ms. Claire? I raise my eyebrows. Nobody has ever called me that before and it comes off weird, like I’m an old woman or something.

  “I got it,” I say. “I don’t need someone to carry my bags.”

  “It’s no problem,” the valet says, reaching out to take it from me.

  But I insist.

  “Nice meeting you, Abby,” he says, calling out to me over the rumble of the engine.

  “You, too,” I say smiling and offering him a small good-bye wave.

  “You realize he wants to fuck you,” Sullivan says, his voice devoid of emotion.

  I cluck my tongue at Sullivan. “He was being nice.”

  “Because he wants to fuck you.”

  I roll my eyes and pick up my luggage. “You’re really crude, you know that?”

  “I try,” he says, after heaving out a large sigh.

  I’m sure he does. But then it seems to be
working for him, so I doubt he’ll be changing anytime soon.

  Inside the lobby, Sullivan and I head to the front desk. About five minutes before we pulled up to the resort he told me he’s also working for the resort this summer. I blurted out a ‘why’ but he never gave me an answer. I guess I just assumed he didn’t have to work. I mean, the guy oozes money. But maybe he’s hardworking? He did say he recently finished his business degree, so maybe he wants to make his own money instead of living off his family’s. This sort of impresses me.

  Sullivan flirts up a storm with the front desk clerk and I’m pretty sure he gets her number in addition to the personal escort she provides to Human Resources

  “How many numbers do you get in the run of one day?” I tease as we each take seats in one of the three seats outside the office.

  He pauses, considering. “I honestly don’t know. But I’ll toss them all if you give me yours.”

  I laugh out loud. “You’re such a…I don’t even know what you are.”

  “Admit it, you like me.”

  I shake my head.

  “Come on, just say it. You’ll feel better.”

  “So how many? Numbers, I mean?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “A few.”

  We sit in silence while we wait for the door to Human Resources to open. I fidget in my seat and pick at my nails before sighing and coming to my feet. I need to walk, to pace, to bite my nails.

  Sullivan drums his fingers on the armrest, watching me with furrowed brows.

  I stop chewing for a second. “What if they hate me?”

  “Please. What’s not to like? I just met you and already I want to get naked with you.”

  I sigh. “But you’re a whore.”

  He chuckles under his breath and shakes his head. I continue chewing on my nails.

  “You want another nail?” he says. “I think you’re fresh out.”

  I lower my hands to my side and drop into the chair beside him. “I know, right? It’s a really bad habit. Unfortunately, I can’t stop. Tried everything. Covering them with bandages, picking only one nail and leaving the others, lemon juice. You name it, I tried it. Do you have any bad habits?” I’m talking so fast right now I don’t even know what I’m saying.

  He mechanically turns his head toward me; his brow is furrowed. “Are you alright?”

  “No. Anxiety. My graduation depends on this placement. I just want her to like me, you know? And my preceptor—what if I don’t like her? What if she hates me? It’ll make for a really long summer and it already seems long enough as it is. Man, I can’t wait to get back home.”

  He opens his mouth but no words come out. I’ve gone and rendered him speechless again.

  “Sorry. I’m talking too much.”

  He raises his hands and waves me on. “Talk away.”

  “Are you nervous? You seem calm as a clam,” I say. He’s about to answer when the door to human resources opens and a man in a suit steps out, followed by a lady in a skirt and jacket with a name tag, who I assume is the lady I’m supposed to meet with. Jane, reads her name tag. The man shakes the lady’s hand before heading to the elevators.

  Mrs. HR narrows her eyes at Sullivan. “Sullivan Hope. You’re up next.” She says his name low, with a hint of disdain—like she knows him, or knows of him. Or maybe she’s a shrew. Oh God. She’ll eat me alive.

  She shuts the door after he enters and I’m alone. I patiently wait while Sullivan finishes up his appointment. I take in the room, the dark rugs, the dark stained hardwood floors and the pictures hung on the walls of the Rocky Mountains and some random meadows and picturesque scenes from places I can't identify.

  When the door opens, Sullivan steps out. I expect to see his flirty smile but instead, he’s frowning. He walks over to me and stands there, looking down, his face severe and his hands on his hips.

  “You’re okay to find your way to your cabin?” he asks.

  Crap, that bad, huh? “Um…yeah.” I lean forward, closing the distance between us so I can drop my voice a touch. “Are you okay? You look…bothered.”

  He forces a grin. “I’m always okay.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I tell him, though I worry a little for him.

  He turns to leave and stops after a few strides when I call out his name.

  “If I don’t see you again, it was nice to meet you,” I say.

  He nods, giving me a mock salute before continuing to the elevator. My gaze then returns to the lady from Human Resources, who stands in the doorway, staring at me.

  “And you are...?” she asks.

  “Abby. Abby Claire.”

  She glances at her watch. “Oh, you’re early.”

  “I know. Take your time. It’s my fault.”

  “You know what? It actually might work out better for me if we meet now.”

  “Fantastic.” I spring out of my seat and all but skip over to her.

  After a long chat about Nova Scotia—apparently she grew up in the neighboring province of New Brunswick—my nerves are settled and I relax into casual conversation. She’s sweet and ever so helpful. She even gives me a map of the town and personally marks all the places I should visit on my time off.

  “Wow, Ms. Tilley, this is great. I can’t wait to see the sights here. I’ve never been outside of Nova Scotia before.”

  “Call me Jane.” She smiles widely and offers me a mint.

  I pop it into my mouth and stick it in my cheek before saying, “Thank you, Jane.”

  “If you need anything, feel free to come and visit me anytime. My door is always open.”

  I chew my lip, about to cash in on her offer. Room and board is free this summer but all of my other expenses are my own and I don’t have much money saved. The money I have, I was saving to buy a car for when I start my first nursing job. Getting through this summer without any additional cash will be hard, especially when I have a cell phone that I fully intend to use to call my family long distance.

  “Um…there is one thing you could help me with…that is…I…”

  “Go on, dear.”

  “I’ll be working full time in the clinic while I’m here and that’s unpaid…so I was wondering if maybe you have a position here at the hotel…maybe in service? Or housekeeping? That I could apply for part-time? I’d really be grateful for the opportunity.”

  “Hmm.” She picks up a stack of paper stapled in the upper left hand corner. “I don’t have any casual vacancies right now, but I’ll be sure to keep you in mind.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  She helps me complete my paperwork before I head upstairs to meet my preceptor, who is apparently already at work—I can’t miss out on the opportunity to chat with her and pick up my schedule.

  The clinic is closet small and from what I understand, it’s used for emergencies, first aid and the occasional walk-in, and that’s about it. I’m sceptical this place will prove a good placement. No way will I get to practice all the skills I learned in school, but I’m determined to make the best of it.

  The clinic is located next to the pharmacy. It’s basically a lobby with a few chairs and a couple of doors behind a large counter. Not much at all, really. A woman in green scrubs and long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail sits behind the counter reading a magazine.

  No patients. There might as well be tumbleweed rolling along the floor.

  “Um, Alice?”

  She glances up at me as she taps her pen on a piece of paper. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes. I’m Abby. Your nursing student.”

  She stares at me, uncomprehending.

  “I’m from the east coast.”

  She continues to stare and I’m starting to panic. What if she didn’t agree to precept me? What if she’s going to insist they send me back?

  “I’m here for my final nursing placement…?” She tilts her head to the side and frowns. Seconds tick by on the clock above her. “I’m just fucking with ya.” She bursts out laughing as I resume breath
ing.

  “Oh. You scared me there for a moment,” I say.

  She stands up and comes around the counter to pull me into a big hug. I immediately like her because a. she made me laugh and b. she completely surprised me by dropping the f bomb. And let’s face it, I love people that shock me. They make life interesting; my brother Dylan has that talent.

  “You should have seen your face.” She chuckles before taking a seat in one of the chairs. I drop my suitcase and slide into one beside her.

  “So this is the clinic?”

  “It sure is. Best job I’ve ever had.”

  “It’s a little…slow,” I say, glancing around the small space.

  “It’s perfect. I worked in the ER for ten years before coming here full-time. It’s a nice change of pace and don’t let this lull fool you. Summer season starts next week and just wait—we won’t stop ’til the summer is over.”

  “That sounds great. What kinds of things do you do here?”

  She blows a breath out through pursed lips. “Hmm. Let me see…sunburns, splints for breaks, concussions—the sailors are always getting hit with those booms—and…infections, dressing changes, ingrown toenails.”

  Oh dear God. No way will I meet the requirements for my program!

  “Sometimes we have heart attacks and seizures, so we have to respond to them. We have standing orders from the local doctor on what we can administer. There's another clinic in Deerfield but no hospital close by, so we’re pretty much it for medical here. There’s a hospital in the works for Banff, but they haven’t even broken ground on it yet so anything major is air-lifted to Queens Medical.”

  Okay, that sounds a little better. Not that I’m hoping for heart attacks or anything, but throw me some veins and a needle, maybe a catheter, and I’ll be a happy camper.