and along came SPIDER ( A Martina Spalding Thriller ) (Spider Series Book 1) (3 page)

“What’s the question? 
Maybe I can answer it.”

Marti then told Gloria
of her desire to work the OR, at least on occasion, and the reason why.

“I don’t see why not,”
Gloria said.  “There’s not a big demand among the nursing staff for those
slots.  That whole blood thing is disconcerting to most, as you must already
know.  I guess that’s why some places have nurses who specialize in it.  But,
I’ll tell you what, let’s get the scheduling nurse down here and see what we
can come up with.”

“I hate to be such a
bother!”

“Not at all!”  Gloria
picked up the phone and dialed a few numbers.  “Yes, Mary, I have a prospective
new nurse here who has a question about OR duty.  Do you have a minute…?  Oh,
sure, I can do that.”  Gloria hung up the phone.  “She wants you to come up. 
Is that okay, Martina?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll tell you what,
it’s slow this morning.  Why don’t I just take you?”  She put out the ‘Have a
Seat’ sign and led the way toward the elevator.  “This will give you a chance
to see what goes on here first hand.”

“Oh, good,” Marti said,
excitedly.  Before long, then, she found herself face to face with Mary Greer,
a fortyish rather plump redhead, in her office on the second floor.  It was
comforting to Marti to know the youthful appearance rule hadn’t stretched
through the administration staff, at least.  Mary was somewhat homely.

After the
introductions, Marti made her request, and Mary got right to explaining how
things worked at Spencer House.

“Miss Spalding, the
best advice I can give you… is to forget everything you know about the workings
of a regular hospital.  Here we don’t treat many diseases, especially
contagious ones.  If a patient has pneumonia, for instance, we don’t even want
him or her near this place.  And emergency surgeries… we don’t do those
either.  We leave those things to the regular hospitals in the area.  Our
specialty here is mostly cosmetic.  So if it’s a skin blemish removal,
reshaping of a nose, or some body part augmentation that excites you, then I
sure can schedule you in the OR for that.  However, I must warn you, don’t be
surprised who you may find there.  Last month we had a very recognizable movie
star in our presence for two weeks.”

Even though this
excited Martina to a point, she was also disappointed.  Saving lives was the
reason she had chosen this profession in the first place.  And why had neither
Scott Harris or even Gloria mentioned this to her before?  She glanced to
Gloria, who seemed not to want to meet her glare.  “I see.”

“There are some heart
procedures being done here, but generally specialists are flown in for those,
along with the surgeon’s own OR nursing staff.  What we’re left with then is
the recovery period.”

“I see,” Marti said
again, becoming even more depressed at what she had heard so far.  “Cancer?”

“Yes, of course.  But
there is so little that can be done for most of those people, they generally
come here just to die in style.”

“Okay, well,” Marti
said, and looked to Gloria again.  This time she met her eyes.

“Thanks Mary.”  Gloria
stood.

“Yes,” Marti said. 
“You’ve been very helpful.”

“Sorry,” Mary said.  “I
can see you’re disappointed.  But you must admit, what we do here is important,
too.”

At the elevator again
Marti said, “Why didn’t you tell me, Gloria?”

“Tell you what?  How
did I know you were an OR freak?”  She was instantly angered at Martina’s
accusatory tone.  “A patient is a patient.  Those getting cosmetic work need
nursing as well.  I mean, it may not be life or death surgery, but they are
extremely technical procedures and a lot can be learned by participating in them.” 

“You’re right.  I’m
sorry,” Marti said, feeling bad for getting angry at Gloria, who had done
nothing but try to help her thus far.  It wasn’t just anyone who would take a
so-called “green horn” under wing like Gloria had, and for that Martina was grateful.

In the elevator, Gloria
punched floor three.  When they stepped out to the nurse’s station, Marti was
pleasantly surprised.  Unlike a regular hospital, the only thing sterile
looking about this space were the white uniforms worn by the well-groomed young
nurses that manned it.  Otherwise, the space was luxurious in its decorations. 
Fine oil paintings adorned the papered walls.  Overstuffed chairs, ornate
lamps, marble statues, and exotic plants filled the waiting area.  And there
were velvet drapes covering the windows.  This place, she could get used to.

Marching up to the
counter, Gloria said, “Ladies, this is Martina.  I’ve got to get back to my
desk.  But I’d appreciate it if you would show her around.  Martina is a
nurse.  She may be joining us.”

“Sure,” one answered,
and the three of them smiled broadly. 

Gloria then turned to
Martina and said, “You okay with this?”

“Yes! Thank you.” 
Martina beamed, hoping Gloria wasn’t too mad at her.

“Good.”  Gloria then
whirled and re-entered the elevator.

Returning to the lobby
an hour later, all smiles, Martina marched directly up to Gloria.  Gloria stood
to face her when she heard the familiar sound of Martina’s heels clacking
across the marble floor from the elevator.

“Oh, Gloria, I’m so
glad I did that.  The nurses are super nice — the patients, too. 
And the spacious rooms are simply divine.  I just love it here.”

“Great!  Does that
mean…?”

“When do I start?”

“There are some papers
you’ll need to sign… non-disclosures and such.  I can have them ready by four. 
And once you’ve done that, I’ll get you back with Mary for scheduling.  How’s
that sound to you?”

“Wonderful!  Then I’ll
see you at four,” Martina cheerfully said, and headed for the door.

“The offer to move in
with me is still open,” Gloria called after her.  “We can go there for a look
when I’m off at five, if you want.”

“I’d like that. 
Thanks, Gloria.”

“Afterward we can
celebrate!  Okay?”

“Okay!”  Martina
laughed and pushed through the door.

Back in her room after
a quick lunch at the diner, Marti sat down at the desk and wrote a long letter
to her parents.  She told them where she was and of the wonderful job she had
landed.  Then, as an afterthought, she enclosed the seven hundred dollars they
had thoughtfully put in the car.  She had five hundred dollars saved from her
previous job and certainly didn’t need to be taking their hard-earned money
anymore.  Especially since the paychecks were about to start rolling in again.

Feeling good about
having done that, immediately after sealing the envelope, Marti went to the
lobby and posted it.  It was then she decided to walk on up to Hannity’s with
the idea in mind of doing a little soul searching.  This would be her final
chance to review her thoughts before taking the next step and signing on with
Spencer House.  She wanted to be absolutely sure the decision to do so was the
right one.  Not that she would back out, now that she’d given her word to
Gloria.  It was the
why
of
the decision that concerned her now.  Had she done it in an effort to appease
Gloria after making such an ass out of herself in front of Mary Greer?  Or was
this truly a good fit for her future?  No doubt, she’d need to put her dreams
of becoming the next Florence Nightingale on hold for now.  She’d just traded
that away for a smile… if only smiles could heal wounds and save lives?  In a
way, perhaps they could, she fantasized. 

CHAPTER FIVE

At two thirty in the
afternoon, Hannity’s wasn’t near as crowded as it had been the previous
evening.  A quick look around told Martina that Lenny wasn’t around yet,
either.  Selecting a stool toward the end of the bar, she sat her purse down
and sat up.  The lone, middle aged, blonde, female bartender came her way once
it was certain where she would settle in.

“What can I get ya,
honey?”

“Today, I think I’m in
the mood for a beer,” Marti said cheerfully.

“Do you have a favorite
brand?” the bartender said rather impatiently.

“Actually, no…  I’m
really not much of a beer drinker.”

Just then, a guy
farther up the bar she hadn’t noticed until now began tapping a fingernail on a
beer bottle to get her attention.  He then cutely pointed at the label on the
bottle.  “Okay,” Marti laughed.  “Budweiser, then!” 

The beer came
super-fast and she took it immediately for a long pull.  It felt crisp and cold
going down and Marti nearly belched, just like her father often did after the
first swallow.  But she caught it in time, letting it fume out gradually
through her nose instead.  It burned!

“The name’s Parker,”
came from behind, and Marti whirled to look up into the brown eyes of the
stranger who had recommended the beer.  Up close she could see he was a little
older than her, rather rugged, with broad shoulders and dusty, dark hair.

“Spalding,” Marti
played along, giving her last name as well.

Taken aback by that,
Parker wittily asked, “What are you, a football or a catcher’s mitt?  What kind
of name is that for a girl?”

“You gave me your last
name, so I gave you mine.”  She turned back to the bar and took another drink
of the beer.

Parker laughed and
eased up beside her.  “Parker Thomas!”  He stuck out a strong, but clean hand,
unlike his hair.

“Martina,” she said,
taking the hand for just a finger touch. “Are you married, Parker?”  Maybe that
was a little abrupt, but she couldn’t help but ask, not wanting this to go any
farther if he was.  She was sort of on a mission now and didn’t need to be
wasting time on what would never be.

“Yeah,” he returned,
“to the St. Louis Power and Light Company.  I just got off a sixteen hour
shift.  I’m a lineman.  Any outage and we’re on, until it’s on.”

“I’m sorry, you must be
exhausted.”  She looked at him again.  His eyes did look tired and stressed. 
But that was the nurse in her doing a visual examination, she told herself.  He
was handsome, though, in a rustic sort of way.  And, if she was being honest
with herself, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t fantasized about his type before.

“Just getting started!”
he said sarcastically and smiled broadly, showing near perfect white teeth.

“I have some eye drops
in my purse…” she remembered and reached to the bar, putting it on her lap.

“What are you, a
nurse?”

“As a matter of fact, I
am,” Marti said, then proudly smiled up to him.  “Here!”  She removed the cap
from the Visine and handed it over.

Parker took the bottle,
squeezed two drops into each eye, and handed it back.  He then wiped each eye
with a napkin from the bar.  “Thank you.”

“Glad to be of help. 
How do they feel now?”

“Much better, Doc.”  He
grabbed his beer and drained it.  “Can I buy you another?”

“No, thank you.  One
beer is my limit.”

“Something else then?”

“You can pass me those
peanuts.”

Parker slid the red
plastic basket of salted, in the shell peanuts her way and signaled for another
round.

When the beers arrived,
Marti said, “Is there something about
no
you
don’t understand, Mister Thomas?”

“I like to pay my
debts.  Good doctoring deserves payment.”  He rested his elbows on the bar and
tossed a smile her way.  Cute.  “I’d tell you how much better I look cleaned
up, but you probably wouldn’t believe me.”

“Why not?”  Marti
chuckled.  “Just looking, I can see you’d scrub up quite well.  My dad owns an
auto repair shop.  Believe me, I know how transforming a good scrub and a shave
can be.”

“You’re not from here
are you?”

“Okay, here it comes!” 
Marti leaned away.  “I was told I’d get a lot of that here.”

“A lot of what?”

“Lip, because I’m an
outsider.”

“That wasn’t the reason
I said it.”  He looked genuinely hurt.  “Actually, I was thinking you are too
nice to be from here.”

“You were?” Marti
asked.  “I’m sorry I spoiled it for you.”

“You’re pretty, too.”

“Wow, are you the sweet
talker!”  Marti was flattered, even though she wasn’t sure he meant it.  A
virgin she may be, but she wasn’t innocent to the things a man would say to
lure a lady to come home with him.  “So how did you escape marriage for so
long, Parker the lineman?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” 
He laughed.

“I bet you have plenty
of girlfriends, though?”

“Oh, yeah!  All over
town.”  He smiled uneasily.  “One for every day of the week, ‘cept Sunday.”  He
knuckled a day’s growth of dark beard.

“What happens Sundays?”

“God rests!”  He
laughed heartily at his joke.

“I guess I asked for
that.”  And since he was enjoying it so much, she laughed along with him.

With that, Parker
drained the last half of his beer.  “I guess I’d better go.”  He gave a two
finger salute.

“Well, good to have met
you, Parker the lineman.”

“We’ll meet up again,
Doc.  You can count on that.”  He then turned and walked away.  He gathered his
red hardhat down the bar, plopped it on his head, and kept moving.

Marti wondered how he
could be so sure of that, and watched him go.  He certainly had a nice ass in
those Levis, she mused, and she turned back to her beer.  One more glance just
before he reached the door, confirmed it…  Yeah, with his gentle nature and
rugged good looks, there was no doubt in her mind now that he was a possible
candidate for her first, if the opportunity should present itself.  Now that
she had that sitting on her mind, how could she ever think of anything else? 
This prompted her to push the near full beer aside and leave as well.

Back at the hotel,
Marti thought of jumping into a hot shower, giving release to the overwhelming
desire that had been steadily building in her since Hannity’s, but she
resisted.  Instead, she let her hair down, changed into a casual beige pleated
skirt, white ruffled blouse and blue sport jacket, then left for her
appointment with Gloria.

Parker Thomas, the man
wouldn’t leave her thoughts.  Just for kicks, she mentally undressed him…
blushing, she re-clothed him immediately.  But at least now he was cleaned up
and fresh shaven.  He still had on blue jeans, because she liked the way his butt
looked in them.  And since she couldn’t decide on a shirt that did him justice,
at least the way she imagined he looked under that loose fitting work shirt…
she left him bare… great abs.  She savored that until a horn honked… and she
realized where she was… in the middle of an intersection… cars braking to avoid
hitting her.  “Yikes!”  She scurried across, vowing to put the boy doll away
for a later time… one less potentially hazardous.  That’s why, she figured,
people did most of their dreaming while in bed… it didn’t require conscious
thought, as well.