Happy New Year! I hope the transition back to work went smoothly for all of you. I'm starting off 2016 with a brand new work in progress. A standalone novel, not yet named. I'm all ready in love with the main characters at barely 25K words into it. Meet Evie and Landon...
“Who
the hell are you?” Way to be charming,
Landon.
She
looked over at me, boredom in her expression, before returning her attention to
the television. “The nurse your father hired. Who the hell do you think I am?”
“I
don’t need a nurse.”
“I
agree. You need a nanny.” She flipped the channel to a news program and
grimaced.
“What’s
that supposed to mean?” I turned so I could swing my legs over the side of the
bed, the brace making my movements jerky not angry and pronounced like I’d
intended.
“It
means, you can’t even dress yourself so how can anyone expect you to do
anything.”
I
dropped my gaze down and with a curse, grabbed the sheet and pulled it across
my lap. I’d totally forgotten about falling in bed naked the night before.
Unfortunately, other parts of me were not only aware that they were unclothed
but they were announcing themselves quite loudly.
“Yeah,
sorry about that.”
“Whatever.
I’m a nurse. I’ve seen worse. Of course, I’ve seen better too. Much better.”
She clicked to another station. I could have sworn I saw her lip twitch as I
growled over her insult.
“Just
get out. I don’t need you. Tell my father to go to hell.”
She
tossed the remote control on the coffee table and checked her watch. “You have
ten minutes to get ready for physical therapy or I’m taking you the way you
are.”
I
crossed my arms over my bare chest. “I’m not going.”
“You
are going so get dressed.” She stood
and looked him over. “You’re down to eight minutes.”
“And
just how do you expect me to get down all of those stairs?”
“The
same way you got up them. Walter showed me the elevator.”
Damn
it. I was hoping she hadn’t found that yet. I waved a hand in the air. “Whatever.
Are you going to watch?”
“Watch
what?” She dropped her gaze to my lap and gave me a little smile that was more
taunting than friendly.
This
woman was absolutely infuriating. “Fine. Suit yourself.” I whipped the sheet
back and reached for my wheelchair. Instead of turning away, she stayed right
where she was with that little smile dancing around on her lips. With about as
much grace as a bull in a china shop, I managed to get from the bed to the
chair while she just stood there and watched.
“I
thought you were supposed to be here to help me.”
“You
didn’t say you needed my assistance.”
“Really?
I had to ask? Isn’t that what you are
here for?”
“Let’s
get something straight, Mr. Reed.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “I’m a trauma trained RN. I am
not your maid or your gopher or any other thing. It is my job to get you back
on your feet both literally and figuratively. I’ll handle your medical care and
your personal care as needed but I am not at your beck and call.”
“Just
get out of my way so I can get dressed.” I pushed past her to the large
walk-in closet and started grabbing clothes. Dragging a pair of sweats, some
boxer briefs and a t-shirt into the bathroom, I struggled my way into them. The
doctors had promised me that things would get easier but the pain was still
excruciating and my knee just refused to bend like it used to without bringing
tears to my eyes and a sheen of sweat to my entire body.
When
I was done, I ran a comb through my wild hair and grimaced. Probably time to
think about an actual haircut.
“Come
on, we’re going to be late!” The nurse called.
“I’m
coming already!” I whipped open the bathroom door and scowled at her. “You
never told me your name.”
She
shrugged. “You never asked.”
She
was fucking infuriating—despite the way her long brown hair tumbled in waves
over her shoulder from the pony tail it was secured in.
“Fine.
What is your name?”
“Evie.”
“What’s
your real name?”
“That
is my real name.” She stepped behind
me and turned the wheel chair toward the door. She stopped and grabbed his
tennis shoes from the floor, placing them in his lap.
“I
meant, is Evie short for something?”
“Yes.”
She pushed his chair down the hall toward the door at the end and pushed the
button for the small service elevator—the number one reason I had chosen the
beach house as my home base after the accident.
“Are
you going to tell me what it is?” The elevator opened and Evie pushed me
inside.
“Nope.”
“Why
not?”
“It’s
none of your business. You can call me Evie or nurse. That’s all you need to
know about me.”
“Anyone
ever tell you that you can be a real bitch?”
“Honey,
I grew up in New York. They teach a class on that in high school.”
They
reached the first floor and the door opened. Evie pushed me out of the elevator
and down the ramp Walter had constructed to get me in and out of the house.
“I’m
going out on a limb here but I bet you aced that class.”
“You’re
smarter than you look, Mr. Reed.”
