“Hey, Bryan.” She punched in the code for her chocolate fix. “I am happy.”
As her snack fell to the bottom of the machine she reached into the trap to retrieve it. Springing back up to face the doctor she smiled. He had one of those faces that could be in a catalogue, all American boyish charm in the shape of a man. His medical degree didn’t hurt matters either, although he did have a bit of a chip on his shoulder from time to time. But with his grandparents funding an entire wing of the hospital and his father one of the most prestigious surgeons in the country, she supposed he was entitled.
She tore open the cellophane. “Life is good.”
“I’m glad.” He turned, holding a paper coffee cup under the spray of the cappuccino machine.
She shut her eyes as the caffeinated fragrance steamed from the cup. “God, that smells divine.”
Reaching for the stack of cups, he held one out to her. “Want a cup?” No wedding band. Maybe she should introduce him to Lily if they didn’t already know each other.
She bit into her cake and swallowed. “No. I can’t. I’m trying to cut back on my caffeine. Thank you, though.” She took another bite and moaned.
“Well, you know that Twinkie probably has more caffeine in it than a cup of coffee.”
“Shhh, one step at a time, doc.”
He watched her for a second and she sensed he was a little jealous. A kind person might offer him the other half. She was kind, but that half belonged to bean. “So good.”
He chuckled. “I can tell.”
She liked Bryan Philips and, again, wished she could fix him up with Lily. Although they all worked in the same hospital, the two never really crossed paths. Jade, however, knew them both and thought they would make a nice couple.
“Are you dating anyone?”
He paused mid sip and met her stare. “Not at the moment. Why?”
She wiped her mouth and crumpled the wrapper in her hand. “I have a friend. She works here. You should check her out.”
He frowned. “A friend?”
“Yeah. Lily Bishop.”
“I know Lily.”
“Oh. Good.” He didn’t seem too interested. “Do you not like her?” Everyone liked Lily.
He shrugged and leaned a hip against the counter. He looked good in a lab coat. He and Lily could have little junior practitioner babies that would be adorable with her Latin complexion and his strong features.
“She’s nice. I never really talked to her about anything but work. I’m not sure she’s my type.”
“And what is your type?”
“Why this sudden urge to fix me up?”
She shrugged and dusted the crumbs off her fingers. “I don’t know. I just figured… I’m always surprised you’re single.”
He gave her a slow smile. “Aren’t you single? I’d find that more surprising.”
“I was, but not anymore.” Nope! She was happily taken. “God, that coffee really smells good.”
Bryan frowned at his cup. “Why this sudden need to give up your one vice?”
“Ah, but I have many vices, shoes, clothes, romance novels. Coffee’s but one and I’m merely trading it in for the next few months. I could never abandon caffeine completely.”
“And what’s in few months? Don’t tell me you’re doing that crazy cleanse all the other nurses are on.”
“You just saw me devour a cupcake.”
“True.”
She tilted her head. In another month there’d be no hiding her condition. “Well, in six months I’m going to have a baby.”
He coughed into his cup and quickly wiped his mouth. “You’re kidding?”
“Serious as a heart attack.”
He looked at her, his mouth open, but no words came out. “How far along are you?”
“A little over three months.”
“Well, that’s … that’s wonderful, Jade.”
“Thanks. I didn’t plan it, but I’m adapting.”
“Well, you seem happy.” His eyes studied her for a long moment. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. You’re actually one of the first coworkers I’ve told, so you should feel very privileged.”
“I’m truly honored.” He theatrically bowed at the significant honor. “Who else knows?”
“Well, Lily knows, and my … friends, but I’m thinking I can start telling the others now.”
He nodded. “You aren’t showing much yet.”
She stretched her scrubs over her belly. “A little.”
He stared at her stomach then looked at her face. “So, Lily… Did you mention my name to her?”
Jade’s smile grew. “No, but I can. Do you want me to?”
“Yeah. I’ll take her out and see how I feel.”
That was the one drawback to Bryan. Sometimes he acted like his opinion was the only one that mattered. For the most part, he was cool with Jade, but she’d seen him act like a bit of a me-monster with some of the other nurses. She hoped Lily got the nice side of him.
“Lily’s a good catch. I think you might like her once you get to know her outside of work.”
“We’ll see. I have specific tastes.”
Ugh. She really didn’t want him going into this with that attitude. “I’ll let you know if she’s interested.”
He chuckled. “Find me when you do.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a patient I need to get back to. Good luck with the … baby.”
“Thanks. See ya.”
As soon as he walked out of the break room, she pulled out her phone and texted Lily.
Hey! What do you think of Dr. Philips?
Bryan Philips? IDK sort of a walking ego. Why?
Jade frowned. So Lily knew him well enough to know his flaws.
I think he’s sort of cute. You should go out with him.
Maybe YOU should if you think he’s that cute. Not my type. He’s too young and a little entitled for my taste.
Okay, maybe his reputation was worse than she realized. He was always nice to her. Little quiet at times, but very attentive whenever she asked him anything. She texted back, asking Lily to just think about it. She hated the idea of her friend being alone over the holidays, which were rapidly approaching. She was happy so she wanted everyone to be happy.
Once Jade stuffed her phone back in her pocket, she bought one more treat from the vending machine as a snack for later. Checking her watch, she chugged the rest of her water, tossed it in the trash, and returned to her shift.
She’d done it. She’d told someone about her pregnancy and the world didn’t crumble into pieces. Perhaps she could finally share her news with her parents.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jeremy finished up some routine paperwork so he could address more pressing matters while Jade was at the hospital. Closing out the program on his main computer, he opened his favorite search engine and typed in the number 4.
His results showed nothing but a bunch of businesses with the number in their title. He switched to an image search and again came up short. The first twenty pages were simply the numeral in different fonts and colors and some pictures of people holding signs that said ‘Vote 4 Change’. Not what he was looking for.
He tried using key phrases like, the symbolism behind the number 4, definition of 4, clubs that identify with the number four, but none of the results were what he needed. He wished he could draw the mark and somehow feed it into the search engine, but Jade hid the scar behind clothing and he wasn’t quite sure of the exact detail. He couldn’t very well study it because it was a sensitive subject and he didn’t want to upset her. As things were going right now, he was just wasting time.
Frustrated, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. As Jeremy drove out of Parkside, he hit up his Bluetooth.
“What’s the address for Trinidad’s Salon in New Castle, PA?”
The phone rattled off the street address and linked it to his GPS. Recalculating his route, he quickly turned left and headed toward New Castle.
<
br /> The salon looked more like a boutique than a beauty parlor. Display racks of makeup and delicate hand carved boxes too small to keep anything in filled the entrance. Some beauty products were made completely from beeswax.
He frowned as he saw the prices. How did a little tube of something cost thirty dollars?
“Are you shopping for your girlfriend?” a woman dressed in black asked, giving a coy smile.
“Uh, yeah.” Jeremy quickly grasped the opening. “Am I in the right place? I’m looking for Trinidad’s, the salon.”
“You’re in the right place. Our salon’s in the back. Were you interested in a massage today or perhaps a manicure?”
“I’m not really the salon type—”
“Oh, we have plenty of male clients who enjoy our spa. Sometimes there’s nothing nicer than an intensive Swedish massage after a long day’s work.” She touched his arm as if they were old friends. “We also have lots of men who enjoy our buff no polish paraffin dip.”
“What’s a paraffin dip?”
“It’s a manicure where your hands are dipped in warm liquid wax. It hardens and, as it’s pulled off, it removes all the old follicles and dead skin cells.”
“You ladies sure like to find uses for wax. Sounds painful.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She pulled his palm close and examined his fingers. “I’m sure a tough guy like you could handle it. You have rough hands. I bet you do a lot with them.”
He politely retrieved his hand and took a step back. “Would a manicurist do this?”
“Of course.” She giggled.
He wasn’t sure what was funny, but smiled anyway, trying to remain friendly. “I don’t have an appointment.”
“Oh, I’m sure I could squeeze you in somewhere.” Her lips twisted into a smile. “Come with me.”
She sashayed to the counter where she typed something into a computer. The screen was hidden from the customer’s view so he wasn’t sure what she was typing.
“Last name?”
“Larson.”
“First name?”
“Jeremy.”
“Phone number?”
He rattled off his number.
“Birthday?”
“You need all this information to do my nails?”
“We like to send cards to our clients.”
“Oh.”
So outside his comfort zone he considered bolting, but then he thought about Jade and figured she was worth the sacrifice of his manhood for one afternoon. He recited his date of birth.
“And you’ve never been here before, correct?”
He had an idea. “No, but my friend goes here. She came for a manicure a while ago. Is there anyway you can set me up with the girl she saw?”
“Sure, what’s your friend’s name?”
“Katherine. Katherine D’Angelo. Or it might be under Adams.”
The woman typed some more. “Here she is. Let’s see… It looks like she’s been here a few times in the past year. Would you like to see who she had her last manicure with?”
“I know she really enjoyed her first visit. Can I see who she saw that day?”
“Let me go back in her file. Oh, here it is. Hmm, that’s weird. There are two names here.”
Bingo.
“I’m not sure if she saw Caroline or Rebecca. Well, it doesn’t really matter. Rebecca isn’t here anymore. Would you like me to see if Caroline’s available?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
He was finally getting somewhere. Hopefully, this Caroline was the woman with the scar. He had other places to go today and hoped to get his nails buffed, grab the info he needed, and get going without being neutered in the process.
“Oh, you’re in luck! Caroline has an opening. Have a seat and I’ll let her know you’re here.”
While he waited, he was assaulted with random womanly questions about his preference in shades of lipsticks, what scent of perfume he liked best, and forced to sample lotions. Female shoppers didn’t care who they talked to. By the time he was called back for his appointment, he was pretty positive his testicles had crawled into his stomach never to descend again. He seriously needed to wrap this up and go hammer some drywall or something.
He was escorted through a room of odorous chemicals he never smelled before and was seriously questioning how the hell something could smell that awful and at the same time make a woman pretty. As he sat in a cushioned chair at an undersized vanity, he noticed a drill with all kinds of pointed drill bits hanging to his left.
What. The. Fuck.
“Hi, I’m Caroline.”
Pulling his gaze away from the display of torture devices, he looked at the woman taking a seat across from him. She was in her mid-thirties, had short brown hair, was of average weight, and disappointingly, had no scar on either hand.
Letting out a sigh of disappointment, he said, “Hello.”
An hour later and about a hundred bucks poorer, he got back into his car and got the hell out of Dodge. His search, so far, had turned up nothing worth his efforts. He wasted an hour having his fingers soaked, picked, clipped, filed, and dipped in hot wax, all to learn that Rebecca, the manicurist with a scar in the shape of a four, had quit and moved to Florida eight months prior.
What a waste of a tank of gas, even if—cough, cough—his hands were softer than a baby’s bottom.
Caroline was nice, but she didn’t know much about Rebecca. She remembered she was in her early twenties and new to the area. From what Caroline could recall, the girl was always falling in and out of love and having her heart broken by various men.
She did remember the scar on the girl’s hand but said she never talked about it. She once got upset when Caroline asked about it. That sounded right.
She was very helpful but politely refused to give him Rebecca’s last name. He supposed if it was someone asking about Jade, he wouldn’t want her name thrown around to curious strangers either.
Growling in frustration, he drove down Ninth Street. He needed something, some little detail he could use to find this prick.
What did the mark mean? Was it a game, a form of tag, you’re it? All he needed was one clue to follow and once he found that thread he’d pull until the motherfucker completely unraveled. Then he’d kill the cocksucker with his bare hands.
He couldn’t believe how well Jade was taking all of this. He didn’t know if he should be grateful or skeptical. He worried it was a façade, that inside she was breaking. But the more time he spent with her the more he believed she was truly unbreakable. And in denial.
He tried not to think too hard about the details as he reached his next stop. Perfect timing, too, because he could really use a drink.
The Pink Lounge was a recently revamped bar attempting to bring the sophistication of New York to New Castle. It did okay, he supposed.
Years ago, it was a dive where his father and his reprobate friends wasted their days and paychecks boozing. Now, however, it served mostly top shelf liquors and was a place the locals could score a good martini. He wasn’t sure when the new management took over. It must have been sometime when he was in the service, but it was a nice place for a date—or so he’d thought.
The lounge was dimly lit and voices were buffered with soft, trendy music. Red velvet booths made for a more intimate environment. The walls were papered with vintage fleur de lis prints and the moldings were painted glossy black.
He took a seat at the bar, the same place he and Jade sat the last time, and ordered a beer. The bartender behind the counter was a woman, not the man who served them the night of the rehearsal dinner.
He drank his beer and observed his surroundings. From his standpoint, the view was limited. He could see the people to his left and right, the bartender, but no one sitting at the tables behind him. Someone could have easily watched them the night they were there. Everyone could see who sat at the bar, but that left the patrons sitting there with their backs to everyone else.
Currently,
there were only a few other customers present. He supposed Tuesday evenings weren’t big bar nights.
“Can I get you another one?” the bartender asked.
“Sure.” He gave her a friendly smile and she returned it. “So, you guys stay pretty busy here?”
She placed the beer in front of him and removed his empty. “We do all right. I used to work in the city, so it’s nothing like that. I made better tips, but by the time you figure in the cost of gas and travel, it really isn’t worth it.”
“How long have you worked here?” He took a swig from his bottle.
“In February it’ll be a year. Why, you looking for a job?”
“No, just curious. I remember when this place was the Tavern. It’s changed a lot.”
“Yeah, well, Frank’s a stickler about keeping the clientele to a certain standard. If he could, he’d probably make it one of those bars where customers can’t wear jeans or flip-flops.”
“Is Frank the owner?”
“Yup.”
“I guess you don’t have many incidences with rowdy drunks here like they do in the city.”
“No, not as much, but there’s always your run of the mill asshole.” She rolled her eyes.
“Every time I’ve been here I’ve never seen any bouncers or guards. It has to be nice to work somewhere you don’t have to worry about fights breaking out.”
She expertly sliced lemons and tossed them into a garnish tray. “Sometimes I guess that’s true, but whenever there’s an issue, if Frank isn’t in the back, I have to remove the problem myself. It doesn’t happen a lot, but when it does, it’s a pain. It pulls me away from my customers and that means I’m losing money.”
“Yeah, but there has to be security cameras in case anything gets out of hand,” he hedged.
“You casing the joint?” She laughed. “We have cameras, but they mostly cover the exits and the offices.”
Good to know. And footage he very much needed to see. “A buddy of mine specializes in security. He’d be more than happy to set you up with a better system and help out with security on your busier nights.”
If I Fall (New Castle Book 2) Page 18