In The Market For Love. Joy Avery
brief about this man. His entire presence screamed prolonged.
“Ahem.”
The sound coming from behind them made every muscle in Vivian’s body seize. Only one person in the entire hospital had that effect on her. Ms. Kasetta. Busted. They both turned slowly to face Tender Hearts’s most stern ER charge nurse.
“Good morning, Ms. Kasetta,” said Vivian.
Tressa echoed the greeting.
Ms. Kasetta stood with her hands clasped behind her back, donning her usual tight scowl. Vivian couldn’t recall ever seeing the woman smile. Many joked she’d been there since Tender Hearts was founded sixty years ago. The woman may have been hard-nosed, but no one garnered more respect or kept the ER running as flawlessly as she did.
Ms. Kasetta gave a staunch nod. “Ms. Moore. Ms. Washington.”
When Ms. Kasetta’s eyes roamed past them, Vivian didn’t need to follow her stare to know where her gaze had settled, because something in her firm expression softened. Obviously she’d experienced the heat wave, too. Vivian bit back the smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth.
A beat later, Ms. Kasetta’s attention returned to them. “Ms. Moore, where’s your name badge?”
Shit. Vivian touched the bare spot her badge usually occupied. “I...must have left it in my locker. I’ll get it now.”
“See that you do.”
Ms. Kasetta sent one more glance in Tempered Chocolate’s direction, then was off.
Tressa exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time. “That woman scares the hell out of me.”
Vivian eyed the direction Ms. Kasetta had traveled. “She scares the hell out of everyone.”
Tressa performed an animated shiver. “I have to get back to work before Dragon Lady sets me ablaze. You can thank me later.”
Vivian shook her head as her friend ambled away. Thank her? More like strangle her for ever introducing me to this mayhem. Unable to resist, she dared one last look at Tempered Chocolate.
If the way he paced back and forth and ran his hand over his head was any indication, the call was not going so well. Who was he here to see? Probably a girlfriend or wife. Didn’t really matter. To her, he was just something good to look at.
And as if he sensed Vivian’s eyes locked to him, he glanced in her direction. She gasped from the unexpected connection. The phone lowered from his ear, but then eased back. All she could do was continue to dumbly ogle him.
Their eyes held for what she’d label an eternity. Had her feet not been rooted to the industrial tile, she would have darted away. Luckily, the blaring ding that always preceded an overhead announcement sounded, jolting her from the paralyzed state. Hurrying away, she escaped to the locker room to retrieve her badge and decompress.
Inside the dimly lit room, Vivian searched everywhere: her gym bag, her purse, the floor. No badge. She was certain she’d packed it. Well, almost certain. Finally settling on the fact the badge was MIA she tossed her head back and released an audible sigh.
The thought of the judgmental look Ms. Kasetta would undoubtedly toss her once she confessed she’d lost yet another badge made Vivian sigh even more heavily. Maybe she could make it to human resources and have one printed before she ran into the daunting woman again.
Vivian dug into her wallet for a twenty. It was no secret the implementation of the fee for replacement badges was a result of her inability to keep up with the dreaded thing.
The locker room door swung open, and Vivian jolted. Her coworker Gemma rushed inside.
“Oh, thank goodness. I found you.”
Vivian was afraid to ask why the woman sought her. Whatever the reason, it undoubtedly meant more work for Vivian. “What can I do for you?” The question of doom.
“Can you take my patient in bay fourteen? Please, please, please. He’s homeless, and you’re good with them. And he smells. The stench never seems to bother you.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “You know I’m pregnant. I can’t take the odor. I’d throw up everywhere. It wouldn’t be professional to throw up on a patient. I’ll owe you lots and lots. Anything. Any—”
Vivian flashed her palm to pause an anxious Gemma. Four years in North Carolina and the woman still had the deepest New Orleans accent. It seemed to grow deeper whenever she got excited—like now.
“Calm down, momma. I’ll do it.” So much for last patient of the day. Vivian rested her hand on Gemma’s not-yet-protruding stomach. “All this excitement is no good for the baby.”
“I know. I just get so overwhelmed sometimes. You’re a lifesaver, Vivian. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Tears clouded Gemma’s eyes. Pregnancy had turned the usually take-no-prisoners woman into a bundle of emotions. Vivian truly didn’t mind. With her work at the homeless shelter and time spent volunteering at the soup kitchen, plus working in a hospital setting, she’d become nose blind to most odors.
Rubbing Gemma’s shoulders, she said, “You know I’ve got your back, girl. Stay here and get yourself together. I’ll be in to check on you once I’m done. Okay?”
A crimson-faced Gemma nodded and rubbed at her eyes.
Outside the locker room, Vivian sighed. She honestly felt sympathy for the woman. Once her boyfriend had learned she was pregnant, he’d taken off and left her. What in the hell is wrong with men these days?
Unlike most hospitals, Tender Hearts’s “bays” were actual rooms and not the customary dismal curtains that separated individuals in the ER. The second Vivian entered Mr. Hamilton Price’s room the odor of sweat and hard living hit her.
Yes, it was enough to water your eyes, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Compared to the things she’d smelled in the past, this was pine cleaner. The instant her eyes landed on the scruffy man reclined in the bed, she recognized him from the soup kitchen where she volunteered.
Mr. Price’s salt-and-pepper hair hung in locks down his back. She wasn’t sure if his dark, leathery skin was a result of the elements or time. If nothing else, he certainly appeared to eat well, and that made her happy. The thought of anyone going hungry troubled her.
“Mr. Price?”
He rotated his head toward her. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, revealing several missing teeth on the bottom and a bit of decay on the others.
“That’s me, pretty lady. Come on over here closer so I can see you a little better.”
Vivian smiled and neared the bed. “Well, you know, Mr. Price—”
“Call me Hamilton. Mr. Price was my father. Boy, he was an ornery SOB.”
He laughed—ta-hee-hee—or at least Vivian thought it was laughter.
“Yep, an ornery SOB, but a good man. Not many of them around these days, good men.”
He didn’t have to try to convince her. She totally agreed. Calling the mature gentleman by his first name felt disrespectful, but she did as instructed and honored his wishes. “Hamilton, if you took your diabetes medication like you’re supposed to, you wouldn’t have this blurry vision. You’d be able to see me clear across the room.”
He laughed again. “Oh, I like you already. Feisty. And I know someone else who’d like you, too. You know them good men I—”
Before Hamilton completed his thought, the door crept open behind them. When Vivian rotated, time came to a standstill. Him. Tempered Chocolate. The second their gazes collided, her body performed a similar shameful act as before. But added to the searing heat that rushed through her system, again, her nipples tightened inside her bra.
No, no, no, don’t you dare betray me like this, she warned