Not Quite Enough (Not Quite series) (28 page)

She remembered the first time she’d done a ride along. They did their best to make her feel like she belonged. They kicked back when the radio was silent and hauled ass to the next emergency when needed. It was a learning experience to help her call appropriate shots over the radio from the ER.

She trusted these guys.

Even she knew that trust was rare.

“Come in, come in.” Charlie opened the door to their man-cave and gave her one of the prime seats so she could put her foot up.

“How you doing?” Radar asked.

“Remarkably well. I was told that some of you volunteered for the search.”

“Yeah, well… you might not wear blue, but you’re part of our family here.”

Oh, damn… there were actual tears welling behind her eyes. “Uhm, I’m not even sure who was there. I don’t remember anything.”

Radar and Spock raised their hands. “Mitch on B shift was with us, and Miller from 73.”

“Wow. That’s just… wow.” She blinked several times trying like hell not to let tears fall. “I know the rest of you had to shuffle shifts.” She turned to Charlie. “And your boss had to let you go.” She grabbed Charlie’s hand because he was close. “Thanks isn’t the right word.”

They were smiling at her and taking her appreciation with a shrug. “It’s how we work, right? You’d have come for us.”

Yeah, she would.

Another knock grabbed their attention. “Delivery.”

The smell of barbecue sauce followed the delivery guy as he stepped inside the fire station.

“Who ordered? I thought we were going out?” Stan asked.

Monica waved the deliveryman over once he placed the bags on the table. “On me,” she said as she signed for their dinner. She’d scheduled dinner for the guys for the next few days to make sure everyone managed at least one meal on her.

“Oh, hell no.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

More than one of them pulled a wallet from his back pocket.

“C’mon guys. I have to do something.” She shooed the deliveryman off before someone could grab the ticket and circumvent her gesture.

They didn’t like a woman paying for their food, but that didn’t stop them from digging in.

She ate with them and they talked about some of the things they’d seen while in Jamaica. A couple of them talked about joining a team of emergency aide for future disasters.

“I’ve seen my share of crazy shit, but that was huge,” Spock said between bites.

“Did you see the clinic?”

Radar nodded. “After we got you on the plane, nice digs your sister has by the way, we took some of the locals back home.”

“I didn’t know you were related to the Morrisons.”

“I’m not. Well, my sister married Jack. But—”

Clive waved a rib at her. “That’s related in my book. Morrison offered a huge incentive for us to look for you.”

Monica stopped eating mid chew. “He did?”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Like we needed it or something.”

Knowing these guys didn’t come because of money made her smile linger.

“Word from the ER is that you lost your job.”

They all watched her now, with eyes over their food and serious concern on their brows.

“Pat’s been out to sack me forever. Not sure why.”

“She’s jealous,” Radar said as if it were common knowledge.

“Jealous of what?”

“You’re single, gorgeous, all the guys fawn over you, and you could take her job in a heartbeat if you wanted it,” Clive said.

That had Monica squirming in her chair.

“Way to make her uncomfortable, Clive.”

“What?” Clive had this cleft in his chin that dug in with his smile.

“Aren’t you married?” Monica scorned.

“Happily. But I’m sure as hell not blind,” he said with a wink.

That made her laugh. “Remind me to kick your ass when I get this thing off.” She lifted her leg as she spoke.

“She can’t really fire you for helping in Jamaica, can she?”

Monica blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I have a meeting with human resources tomorrow to find out what exactly is happening.”

“Well, we have your back if you need anything from us.”

The guys nodded right as the blaring alarm forced them from their hot dinner and had them running for the door. She knew the drill, wasn’t offended in the least.

“Would have been too much to ask for ten more minutes,” Stan said. He patted Monica on the shoulder as he made it out the door.

“Thanks, Queenie.”

“Thanks, Monica.”

“Come by again soon.”

One by one they left her alone in the station with boxes of barbecue and a crazy lump in her throat.

They were a damn good group of guys.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Monica walked… well limped, out of the human resources building with a pink slip and an attitude. She was half tempted to walk into the ER and ask Pat what the hell her problem was. Now that Monica was back in the States, a formal investigation would take place. Of course that took time to happen and it wouldn’t transpire until all parties involved could be reached.

All parties involved.
Who the hell could they be talking about?
On the surface the case had very little ground. Monica had covered her shifts. Except one of her colleagues had gotten sick and the shifts then defaulted back to Monica. It became her responsibility to have them covered. She wasn’t exactly around to fix the schedule, being knee-deep in shit on the island. The scheduling problem had taken place the first hours on Jamaica and there wasn’t a damn thing Monica could do to fix it.

It wasn’t proven yet, but it appeared that Pat had kept at least one nurse from coming in to help solidify the case against Monica. The whole thing was stupid.

Monica sat in with Mrs. Levine, the HR representative, who began with the facts, and then started to embellish them.

“It doesn’t help your case that you were on the island enjoying the sights.”

“Enjoying the sights,” Monica practically yelled. “What are you talking about? I worked my ass off the whole time I was there.”

Mrs. Levine, with a polished expression of disbelief, peered at Monica over her cheaters. “According to one nurse at the clinic, you left on more than one occasion with a local for a… an affair.”

Monica felt steam come out her ears. “An affair? What the hell?”

“We still need to obtain her statement, but she said it was well known that you slept in this man’s home instead of the accommodations provided by Borderless Nurses.”

“There weren’t any damn accommodations. I was transferred to a clinic far away from anything. Dr. Eddy and Dr. Klein were both there. They’ll vouch for me.”

Mrs. Levine removed her dime-store glasses from her nose and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you saying you didn’t spend time with a man on the island? A man who wasn’t a colleague or a patient?”

Monica stood at that point and crumbled her pink slip in her grasp. “I feel like I need a fucking lawyer.”

“Cussing at me will not change the facts. And that wasn’t an answer, Miss Mann. It’s one thing to leave your post with the intentions of helping others abroad. But to do so and use the good of our system for a free vacation with a lover…”

Monica wasn’t prone to violence, but she’d never wanted to punch someone so bad in her entire life.

She hobbled out of the building and practically ran into a familiar and unwelcome guest. “Dammit. What are you doing here?”

John tucked his hands in his pockets and peered behind her. “That bad?”

“They’re stupid. Have no idea what I’ve had to go through.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Yes, but she didn’t think that someone to talk to about it was him. Her conversation with him held a whole different set of words.

In her haste to get out of the building she stepped down the stairs with the wrong foot and damn near ended up on her butt.
John managed to keep her upright, his hand lingered on her arm longer than she wanted.

“Thanks,” she said as she stepped away.

“C’mon. I’ll buy you a drink.”

She rubbed a hand over her face. “John…”

“Just a drink. I know we have a lot to talk about. That can wait. Let’s just pretend we’ve only worked together and we’re shooting the crap after a bad shift. OK?” Some of the charm he’d held that encouraged her to go out with him the first time presented itself with his smile. She didn’t want to be his enemy, or the bitch in his life that he would judge all others against.

“Just a drink?”

His smile started to crack. “One cocktail. Or soda… your choice.”

Soda wouldn’t do for this day. “One drink.”

He smiled. “Want me to drive?”

Yeah, but she didn’t want to be without a car, or have an excuse to have more than one drink. “I’ll meet you at Joe’s.”

Joe’s was around the block from the hospital. The jukebox held some of the latest pop favorites and several from the eighties and beyond. The music wasn’t rap and filled with hate, which made it a decent spot for the staff to meet up after work. The last thing they needed after twelve hours was headache-inducing bass.

The cocktail waitress took their order and disappeared after leaving a bowl of salty pretzels on the table. Smart move. Monica started nibbling on them the minute she walked away.

“Pat’s been bad-mouthing you ever since you left,” John told her once their drinks arrived. Monica opted for a beer. It would take a while to get through and wouldn’t leave her hungry when she was done.

“I’m sure she had an audience with you.” Monica wanted to slap the words back into her mouth instantly.

John shrugged. “I wasn’t happy with you when you left, but I didn’t join her tirade. We had a really busy shift the day Shel called in sick.”

“I can’t help the fact that my replacement was ill. What was I supposed to do an ocean away?”

John tipped his drink back. “More than one person called Pat on her shit. Didn’t stop her from going to the DN.”

The director of nursing was Pat’s best friend. They’d known each other since nursing school, back in the Stone Age. “Great.”

“I wasn’t at work the day we heard you were missing. Deb called me at home.”

For once, Monica felt bad for John.

He took another swig of his drink, popped a few pretzels in his mouth.

“I survived.”

“Not before we all thought the worst. God, Monica, when I think of how our last conversation went—”

“Not our last conversation,” she reminded him. “I’m here now.”

He gave her a half smile. “Well. Pat seemed to have some remorse. Word got out that some of the fire guys took off to look for you, Pat didn’t even come to work. Then when she found out you were rescued… I don’t know, it’s like there was never any hitch in her plan. She went right back to bitch mode. Said if you were there only for work then what were you doing in a cave to begin with.”

For a minute, Monica thought of defending herself, her actions. Then she realized who she was talking to. She might not owe John an explanation, but she didn’t want to flaunt her behavior either. Especially since her lapse of judgment nearly got her killed and the guy involved didn’t stick around for a proper good-bye.

Maybe it was karma for the Ice Queen, a taste of her own medicine.

“It was hell on that island. I hardly ate, barely slept. When all this is hashed out it’s Pat that’s going to look like the witch she is.” Monica finished her beer.

John placed his hand over hers.

Monica slipped away. “John?”

“No. We said nothing more than work shit.”

She smiled and sat back for a moment.

“But I’m damn happy you didn’t die, Monica.”

She laughed at that. “Me, too.”

For a few more minutes, they talked about the hospital, about some of the gossip she’d missed while away. When she left, Monica felt a little less like an Ice Queen.

Monica shot out of bed in a cold sweat screaming Trent’s name. The panic didn’t start to fade until she turned on her bedside lamp and filled her room with light. As the terror of being back in the cave was still fresh in her mind from the part dream, part memory faded, the pain in her leg brought her back to reality in a flash.

Under the stiff, unrelenting cast, her leg cramped. A charley horse of monstrous proportions gripped her and didn’t let go. Tears instantly appeared. She jumped out of bed and tried to walk off the cramp but with the inability to flex her foot, the pain didn’t stop. In her bathroom, she fumbled with the bottle of muscle relaxers and swallowed one without the aid of water.