Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“I have a patient in a room.”
“Already been taken care of,” he says. “We help each other around here. We’re cool like that.”
“I’m sorry, are you sure I haven’t done something wrong?”
“No.” He shakes his head and holds my gaze with wise grey eyes. “You’re an excellent doctor, and I want you to be here for many years. The rest of your career, if I can manage it. And to do that, I need to protect you from burning yourself out.”
“What am I supposed to do with all of this time?” I ask.
“That’s up to you,” he says and laughs when I just stare at him, dumbfounded. “Hannah, this is a good thing. You’ll have more time to live your life.”
“Huh.” I narrow my eyes on him. “If you’re really trying to squeeze me out of here, I’ll put up a fight.”
“I hope so. Now, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. Not until next Wednesday.”
“But it’s Tuesday.”
“Exactly. You’ll be off from this Tuesday until next Wednesday. A whole week.”
“I guess I could hike,” I reply, thinking out loud.
“Yes, that sounds great. Take a trip. Go hike. Go camping. Hell, go to Europe, I don’t care. Just don’t come here.”
“You’re going to miss me,” I promise him, and he rolls his eyes.
“It’s a week, Hannah.”
Might as well be a month.
Chapter Eleven
~Hannah~
“I’M SORRY TO BUG you at work,” Abby says on the phone twenty minutes later just as I walk in my house, “but I have a question.”
“I’m not at work.”
“What? Why?”
“What’s your question?”
“Right.” She clears her throat. “I have an extra pair of concert tickets to see Maroon5 next month, and I’m wondering if you’d like to go?”
“Is this really a question? Of course I want to go.”
“Cool. Now, why are you not at work?”
I sigh and pull a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Because I was sent home.” I sit and tell her everything that Jim just said. “I mean, what am I supposed to do for a whole week?”
“Are you kidding me?”
I frown at the phone. “No, I’m not kidding. A whole week? What the hell?”
“Hannah, you’re supposed to relax. Have fun. I’ve wanted you to do this for years. I can hear how tired you always are. I think it’s awesome that Jim wants you to have a normal life.”
“I’m a doctor,” I remind her. “We don’t have normal lives.”
“Well, now you can.”
“It’s a lot of time to fill. I don’t know what to do.”
“I can think of a dozen things. Go to the movies, a short road trip, get a massage. Get your nails done. Schedule happy hours with your friends. But first, I think you should go buy lunch for that sexy police chief of yours and take it to him. That would be fun.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” I turn the idea over in my head, and feel a grin spread over my face. “I’m actually kind of hungry.”
“See? You’ll find things to do. If you can’t think of anything, text me and I’ll help.”
“Okay.” I laugh, and grab my handbag. “Thanks for inviting me to the concert. Send me the details.”
“Will do. Now, go feed your cop, and then maybe have sexy time in his office.”
She hangs up, and I’m suddenly excited to be off of work for the day. I swing into Little Deli and chat with Mrs. Blakely while I wait for our sandwiches to be made, and then drive over to the station.
As I’m walking inside, a moment of doubt creeps in. I didn’t call ahead. What if he’s not available? Or not here at all.
I should have called.
But when I walk inside, I see Brad standing by his assistant, giving her a folder, and he glances up, smiling when he sees me.
“Hey,” he says as I approach.
“Hi. I brought lunch.”
“Really? I’m starving. No calls, please.”
He shows me into his office, closes the door behind us, and pulls me in for a long, hot kiss. The kind of kiss that makes me forget about everything else.
The kind of kiss that makes a girl’s panties wet.
“What was that for?” I whisper when he pulls away.
“Lunch.” He winks, then takes the bag from my hands and leads me to a sitting area in the corner of his office. There’s a loveseat, a chair, and a coffee table. “I thought you worked today.”
“I thought so too.”
For the second time in less than an hour, I relay the conversation with Jim and then bite into my turkey on rye, moody all over again.
“I think it’s fantastic.”
“Everyone thinks it’s fantastic except me. I don’t need a week off.”
“Maybe it’ll feel good,” he suggests and pulls the tomatoes off of his sandwich. No tomatoes. This whole learning someone else thing is way more complex than I ever imagined.
“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do with so much down time,” I reply and then shrug. “I guess I can repaint my bathroom or something.”