Secrets of a Shy Socialite (7 page)

Damn it. “It’s only for five years, right?” An idea started to form. A way to keep her from marrying someone else, to protect her from her brother and have her for himself, temporarily, to ensure his daughters’ financial future and make sure he would be the one and only daddy in their lives.

She nodded, staring into the night.

“Hell, five years isn’t all that long. I’ll marry you.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“I
NEED
a nurse out here,” Gayle called out. Again. One hour into her first shift and Jena had been called to patient sign-in to triage more than a dozen patients. Thank goodness Jaci had dropped her off two hours early to meet with Mary, review policies and procedures, and familiarize herself with the facility before she’d officially started work.

“I’m on my way,” Jena called out, freshening the paper liner on the exam table in room four and stuffing it and a disposable gown into the trashcan.

“Everything okay?” Mary, who was supposed to be supervising her closely, asked as she hurried in the opposite direction down the hallway.

“Fine. How’s that little boy?” A three-year-old found unresponsive for an undetermined period of time, and rather than call an ambulance the older brother had scooped him up and run, barefoot, through a major intersection, to the urgent care center.

Mary shook her head and gave Jena a look that said “not good.” Out loud she said, “We’re doing all we can for him. Paramedics are finally on their way to transport him to the hospital.” Forty-five minutes after they’d placed the call thanks to a train derailment with multiple casualties.

Jena entered the lobby to find a woman carrying a small child, holding a bloodied cloth over the left side of the toddler’s face, the woman’s blouse and the little girl’s pink overalls stained red. “What happened?” she asked, taking a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and slipping them on.

“I turned my back for a minute.” The mother started to cry. “I don’t care if that coffee table has been in my mother-in-law’s family for years. When I get home I am tossing it into the street.”

“Let me take a look, sweetie,” Jena said to the little girl, pushing aside a mass of black curls and lifting the cloth to take a peek at the injury, a rather large laceration to the left eyebrow area. But the cloth had adhered to the wound and Jena would need to moisten the area with saline to get a better look. “It seems to have stopped bleeding. Gayle will take your information and we’ll get you into a room.”

“My daughter has been waiting for almost an hour,” a big brute of man bellowed from the standing-room-only waiting area. His nine-year-old daughter, who sat quietly, in no apparent distress, watching cartoons on the television, had fallen from her bike, while wearing a helmet, and denied hitting her head. No visible head trauma. Right wrist swelling and pain. Minor scrapes and bruises to the extremities. Stable.

“I’m sorry for the wait.”

“That’s what you said half an hour ago.” He stood up and stormed toward her.

“Is there a problem here?” a deep voice asked from behind her. Justin’s voice. Jena had never been so happy to hear it.

“Yeah there’s a problem.” The man didn’t back down.

Justin came to a stop beside her, khaki pants covering his long legs, a navy blue polo shirt with Rangore Security embroidered in red letters on the left breast pocket, clinging to his muscled chest. His bare arms thick and powerful. His light scent enough to attract, to make her crave closeness.

Justin didn’t suffer the paunch of an overindulgent lifestyle or the pallid, diminished physique of a seventy hour week white-collar workaholic. He was an imposing specimen of man, the personification of macho alpha male, the standard to which she compared all potential marriageable males. The reason she found some otherwise decent men lacking.

“Well look at you,” Gayle’s voice intruded. “What did we do to deserve the head honcho tonight?”

Jena didn’t have time to question Justin’s unexpected arrival or wait for an answer to Gayle’s question because she heard a siren. “We have a critically ill patient in the back,” she told Justin. “I think that’s our ambulance.” She looked out the glass front door. Shoot. “Whose red car is that?” Parked perpendicular to the entrance, blocking the ramp.

“Mine,” the woman carrying the bloodied little girl said.

Justin held out his hand. “Either you move it or I will.”

The woman handed Justin her keys. On his way out he did something to the double doors to make both remain open.

“I’m guessing if it were your child in respiratory distress you’d want the doctor to give her his full attention,” Jena said to the irate father. “Even if that meant people had to wait while he did.”

The man returned to his seat.

“We’re doing the best we can,” she told the patients and family members waiting. “I’ve spoken with each of you and as soon as the doctor is ready you’ll be called in, the most acute cases first, then by order of arrival.”

For as long as they took to get there, the paramedics were in and out in under ten minutes. After they’d gone, Jena, Mary, and Dr. Morloni met in the hallway. Jena held up her pad. “I’m not quite comfortable with the laptops yet. But this is what we’ve got waiting and the order I think they need to be seen.”

Mary leaned in to look at her notes.

“Three-year-old, audible wheeze. Color within normal limits. No fever. Increased respiratory effort. Nine-month-old. One hundred and three point seven temperature. Mild lethargy. Two toddler lacerations, one eyebrow vs. coffee table, the other thumb vs. steak knife. Nine-year-old fall from bike with right wrist pain and swelling, wearing a helmet, no signs or symptoms of head injury and a very impatient father. Then the rest by order of arrival, three sore throats requesting strep tests. Two ear pain and pressure with fevers. Two seventeen-year-olds one with back the other with shoulder pain. A six-year-old with a pea or peas obstructing his left nostril, right nostril clear, no respiratory distress. And a four-year-old who may have swallowed a coin or coins from a bowl of change, no reports of GI distress.”

Jena looked between the two of them. “To speed things up I’ve documented vital signs, chief complaints and past medical histories on each of them in the computer. I put the audible wheeze in room one to keep him calm and the nine-month-old fever in room two to get him out of the crowded waiting room.”

“You done good,” Dr. Morloni said. “We’re back in business.” Laptop in hand, he turned and walked in the direction of room one.

“These two.” Mary pointed to the two seventeen-year-olds on Jena’s list. “Did they come in with their parents?”

“An older gentleman who claims to be guardian to both.”

“Insurance?”

“You’ll have to check with Gayle, but I think he planned to pay cash.”

Mary shook her head. “Point them out to Justin.” When Jena looked up at her in question Mary added, “Local drug dealers send teenagers in to get prescriptions for narcotic pain medication which they turn around and sell on the streets.”

“That’s terrible.”

Mary looked her in the eye. “Prepare to see a lot worse.”

“May I ask a question?” Jena asked. “Unrelated to the patient population?”

“Fire away.”

“What’s Justin doing here?”

Mary smiled. “We contract with his company for evening security. This plaza is busy during the day, but we’re all alone after five p.m.” She removed her hairband and redid her pony tail. “Being able to advertise we have security on site at night helps us attract quality staff and expands our patient catchment area into the neighboring middle class towns.”

“Does
he
usually work here?”

“On occasion, as his schedule at the police station allows. But I was told Steve would be on duty this weekend.” She smiled. “I’m guessing the change has something to do with you.”

Jena didn’t know whether to be flattered that he’d shown up to spend time with her or insulted that he’d come to keep an eye on her because he didn’t think her capable.

“Hey,” Mary said, moving her head around to catch Jena’s attention. “Dr. Morloni’s right. You did a great job holding things together.”

Jena smiled. “Thanks. Honestly, I enjoyed every crazy minute of it.” For weeks her life revolved around caring for the twins. Jena loved being a mom. But her temporary job, which entailed three of her favorite activities, organizing, prioritizing, and nursing, energized and revitalized her.

After filling the rooms and walking the wrist injury to X-ray, Jena found Justin in the lobby. “May I speak with you?”

He followed her into the hallway.

“There are two teenagers in the waiting area, sitting with an older gentleman,” she informed him, keeping her voice hushed.

“I noticed them.”

“Both are here with complaints of pain and Mary asked me to point them out to you. Something about a drug dealer sending kids in to get prescriptions for narcotics.”

“They fit the profile.” Justin ran his fingers over his goatee. “Let Mary handle them.”

Absolutely not. “I so appreciate your confidence in my skill as a nurse and my ability to handle this job.” She turned to leave.

He caught her by the arm, his large hand strong, yet gentle. “These are street kids,” he whispered forcefully. “They’re more dangerous than they look. Working in rural South Carolina give you a lot of experience dealing with patients who’d have no problem pulling a knife on you to get what they want?”

So he’d been pumping Jaci for more information about where she’d been. And no, it hadn’t. A sudden chill made her twitch. But that did not lessen her resolve to do the job she’d come here to do. “If taking care of street kids, as you call them, is part of my job responsibilities, then best I learn how to deal with them. And if keeping me safe is part of your job responsibilities, best you focus on that rather than worrying about my past work experience.”

“You’re as stubborn as your sister.”

Not quite, but she liked that he thought so.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. “Take them in one at a time, and not until the doctor’s ready for them. Make sure I’m in the lobby and I see you walk each one in.”

She nodded her understanding.

“Anything makes you uncomfortable, you call me.”

She looked up and saw his concern. “I will.” Instead of feeling flattered or insulted by his presence her first night at work, she felt appreciative, realizing he’d come to keep her safe. “Thank you,” she said, “for being here.” Because it provided her a level of comfort she may not have had otherwise.

He skimmed his index finger down the side of her face. “You can be real sweet sometimes.”

She winked, “When it suits me,” and returned to work.

The next two hours went by in a blur of activity, but Jena still made time to call home twice to check on the girls, who were fine. Mary insisted on accompanying her for the discharge of each of the teens, which turned out to be a good thing as one in particular started arguing and begging when Dr. Morloni a.k.a. Dr. Charmer, informed the patient his exam was negative and recommended over the counter non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medication for pain management.

The boy’s desperation clawed at Jena’s heart, to be so young and possibly involved in the illegal drug trade. What would happen to him when the dealer found out he’d been unsuccessful?

“I tried,” Justin said when he returned from escorting the boys and their “guardian” to Gayle to pay then to the parking lot to leave. “I gave each of them the chance to come clean, to give up the name of the drug dealer who put them up to coming in for narcotics prescriptions in return for police protection.”

Great. Maybe...

He shook his head. “They laughed and shared their thoughts on police and their protection. I won’t pollute your ears with the specifics. Suffice it to say they weren’t interested.”

Stupid. Maybe if they’d had access to a quality kids club with positive role models to look out for them when they were younger, or vocational training programs to funnel them into legal, well-paying jobs. Jena made a mental note to research what programs and services were available to the youth of the area. Jaci had championed women in crisis. Maybe with some of the money from her trust Jena could do the same for children.

“Hey.” With a finger under her chin Justin nudged her face up to look at him. “You can’t help people who don’t want to be helped.”

“Says the jaded cop.”

“Not jaded as much as realistic.” He smiled. “Your brother was right. You
do
have a soft heart.”

“They’re kids,” Jena pointed out.

“In this area, childhood ends a lot younger than seventeen. Come on.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her down the hall. “I heard Mary tell you to eat your dinner.”

In the break room, Jena washed her hands in the small sink and Justin collected their bagged meals from the mini-fridge. Then Justin washed his hands and Jena poured two cups of coffee which she carried to the round four-person table in the corner.

In the process of unwrapping his deli sandwich Justin said, “Last night I promised you would have your bills sorted and paid, you would understand your investments and know how much money you had, and you’d be writing checks by Monday. That’s not going to happen if tomorrow you refuse my calls and pretend you’re not home when I knock on your door like you did today.” He bit into half of what looked like a twelve inch Italian combo sub.

So he’d figured out the truth. Well, Jena had another bit of truth for him. “I’m not going to marry you,” she blurted out. There. She said it. No more thinking about his degrading non-proposal. “
Hell, five years isn’t all that long. I’ll marry you
.” Or how much his I-can-put-up-with-anything-for-five-years attitude bothered her. Like she was a nuisance. Someone to be tolerated.

Justin took his time chewing and didn’t respond until after he swallowed. “Funny, I don’t recall requiring marriage to help you with your finances.” He casually reached for a creamer from the basket in the center of the table, poured it into his coffee and stirred. “But since you brought up the topic, why not?”

“You really want to get into this?” She entwined her fingers on the table. “Here. Now.”

“No time like the present, don’t you think?” He took another bite of his sandwich.

Jena had lost her appetite. This was her opportunity to tell him, to dispel any notion of them getting married. To reveal the truth. Soon she would no longer be an exact replica of Jaci and the only part of her he desired—her body—would be altered, her full womanly curves gone forever. Unless...no. She’d made her decision, would not change her mind. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Could not find the words, where to start, how to explain. She needed more time. Only she didn’t have time. So she settled on, “It would never work,” and busied herself by adding two creamers and a packet of sugar to her coffee so she didn’t have to look at him.