Chapter 6 First Steps
Chapter six
First Steps
It doesn’t mean anything.
Lynnette smiled politely to the colleagues she passed in the corridors while she berated herself. She tried to convince herself she was just, maybe, doing a kindness. And despite the rarity of her method of choice, she was allowed to do those.
She walked her final circuit in a daze.
Kara was sleeping when she popped her head in, so she moved quietly and quickly before letting herself out again.
Mrs. Alvers was being wheeled out by Del, the male nurse who’d gossiped with Claire and seemed put off by Lynnette for whatever reason, so Lynnette offered the kind woman a smile and kept walking.
She braced herself as she approached the room where the older man who so rarely covered his genitals resided. He was nice, but in the creepy way, and had a tendency to only do a third of the things they asked of him.
“Garver,” Bishop called as her fingers hooked around the doorknob.
Shit. She preferred the perverted old man to the perverted, power-drunk surgeon. But she was on the clock for another eighteen minutes, so she exhaled and turned to face him. “Yes?” He was supposed to be avoiding her. If he needed a nurse, he should be grabbing someone else.
Not that Gavin Bishop did what was asked of him, either.
Bishop stood a half-dozen paces away and across the hall, near another patient room, and motioned for her. “Come give me a hand with this new patient.”
Another new patient? It wasn’t unheard of. Lynnette was mostly just surprised she’d missed the transition. She bit back her sigh and adjusted course. “I’m supposed to clock off in a few minutes,” she said, using her tone to emphasize the warning.
“You can clock off when we’re done,” he said as he pushed the door open and strode inside.
Asshole. Lynnette kept her lips pursed tightly shut and obediently followed him into the room, wondering what he could even need her assistance for. Nothing had been called over the intercom.
She stepped into the room and came up short.
The bed was empty. The room was empty, and dark.
The door clicked shut.
Her heart beat louder and Lynnette spun in place just as Bishop, who’d sidestepped to keep hold of the door, moved into her personal space.
She stumbled backward and braced the tablet—hospital property she gave no shits about breaking—between them like a shield.
“This is absolutely crossing the line, Bishop. Step aside and let me leave, immediately.”
He latched onto her wrist and hissed back at her, “You self-important bitch. Do you have any idea how hard you’re making my life?”
Lynnette went still, refrained from jerking her arm or even striking him, and let her glare show him what she thought of his idiocy.
“I’ve been abiding the agreement to keep our fucking distance from each other and stay professional.
But if you want to get personal, I’ll start by breaking the twig between your legs and reporting this incident straight to the CMO. ”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ll do no such thing, you slut.”
Lynnette held her tongue for a moment as she debated her options.
He was holding her in place, but not so tight that he was likely to leave a mark.
She could wrench her arm free, and be within her right, but if doing so caused him harm he would without question accuse her of assaulting him and she would be without proof that he’d laid hands first. She could open her mouth and scream, but she was on his side of the floor.
She had one friend, who worked at the desk at the end of the other corridor.
The rest of the nurses on call were not guaranteed to back her up.
But in her perusal, she realized she hadn’t bothered turning the tablet around when she’d lifted it between them. So, calmly, she reached up with her free hand and tapped the screen once. Twice. A third time.
The lights in the room were off, so Bishop noticed the flicker of changing light and color and his gaze flicked down.
Lynnette smiled. “Doctor Bishop,” she said clearly as her free hand fell to her side again, “could you clarify for me exactly why you’ve lured me into this empty patient room and put your hand on my person, in quite the opposite of the Chief Medical Officer’s very clear command for you to not isolate yourself with me? ”
Suspicion darkened Bishop’s eyes. “Don’t play games with me you dumb, manipulative bitch. You don’t get to ruin me.” His lips curled back over his teeth. “Today, I ruin you.”
Her spine stiffened, but she managed to keep herself still and her words articulate. “I’ve done literally nothing to you, or against you. Now release my arm and step aside so I can leave, unharmed. Or that will change.”
He raised his other arm, reaching for her, and snarled, “You—”
“You should know I’m recording this, by the way.”
Bishop froze, eyes blowing wide. His nostrils flared. His gaze dropped like an anchor to the tablet between them.
“On selfie mode,” Lynnette added pointedly.
He dropped his arm as if it had caught fire, finally realizing he’d just put himself indisputably in her space. Even if he could argue he wasn’t actively touching her, despite her words, he could no longer argue he wasn’t close enough to do so. He could not argue he hadn’t been threatening her.
Anger flared hot in his eyes when he lifted them to her again and his lips curled.
Lynnette raised a brow. “Gonna let me go yet?”
His nostrils flared again, reminding her of a cartoon bull. He released her arm with a shove and took a step backward. “Get the hell out of my sight.” Then he twisted on his heel and stormed from the room as if the confrontation had been her idea.
The air rushed from Lynnette’s lungs and she ended the recording with shaking hands.
The tablet wasn’t hers to take home, but she could email herself the video file.
Which she did, trembling hands and all, before she finally rushed from the damn room.
She should have finished her rounds, but fuck that.
She was done. There were about five minutes left of her shift, though, and she knew she’d catch hell if she clocked out even thirty seconds early.
Late was fine, but early was not.
It was her intention to make her way to Amy’s desk and kill time there. On the clock but doing nothing. Except she realized with defeat in her chest that Amy wasn’t at her desk, which meant Amy was on break.
So, she slipped thoughtlessly into Lance’s room, pushed the door shut, and walked around to the far side of his bed where she promptly dropped herself to the floor.
“Uh, is this a new game?”
“Shh. I’m not here.” What the hell was she doing? This might be worse than clocking out early. It wasn’t, really. She could easily spin something up if a doctor walked in. For some reason, she believed Lance would back her. Not that she’d ever asked.
“You are very hard for me to unsee,” Lance quipped, “but I can neglect to mention you to anyone else if you want.” He paused for a beat. “What’s wrong?”
Vindication and defeat warred in her chest and Lynnette let herself lean back against the cabinet, arms draped over her knees.
“I’m just … avoiding someone. I have a few minutes before I clock off and I don’t have it in me to be here anymore.
And as unprofessional as it is, I need you to forget you heard that. ”
Lance hung his arm over the side of the bed, his fingers brushing her shoulder. “Lynn, you can be real with me. I don’t give a shit about the rest of the people here. I mean, Garland’s fine and all, but that day doc’s a dick and you already know you’re my favorite.”
A wet, choked snort of a laugh escaped her and Lynnette couldn’t stop herself from reaching up and curling her fingers around his, just for a few seconds. For a few seconds, they weren’t patient and nurse. They were … something else. Something more.
“Thanks,” she mumbled. She swallowed and pushed down her unsettled emotions. “Sorry. I should have just locked myself in a bathroom stall or something.”
Lance scoffed. “That is the worst cliché ever.” He somehow tightened his grip. “Never apologize for being real with me, for leaning on me, or anything like that. Hell, I can still kick a guy’s ass with my good leg.”
She almost leaned into his arm before she caught herself.
Almost. Instead, she pulled her hand away and forced herself to her feet.
By the time she made it to the desk to drop off the tablet, she’d be over her minimum.
“I’m not asking you to do that, but I appreciate the offer.
I think.” She let herself smile. “See you in a bit.”
He frowned faintly, but it didn’t linger. “Long as you’re good.”
“I’m good.” She was, and she would be. She wasn’t going to let Bishop beat her.
She slipped from his room, put her head down, and managed to clock off without issue.
Part of her had worried she’d be told a complaint had been filed.
It seemed if he was planning to go that route, he hadn’t finished it yet.
That was fine. She would check her email and confirm the video later, then get it where it needed to go. Let that bastard ruin himself.
She didn’t linger in the hospital, taking her change of clothes to a nearby gas station and changing in the bathroom. Apparently, she was full of cliché ideas. From there, she hopped back in her truck and made her way to her favorite local deli.
They just so happened to make a variety of sandwiches for Mr. Not Picky, and since he struck her as a carnivore, she opted to get him the three-meat sub.
She had them pile everything but the sauce on, to keep it from getting soggy, then ordered her own preference.
The nurse in her hesitated over the chips and bottled beverage choices, but ultimately, they were both healthy overall and Lance needed fuel to feed his immune system more than he needed to worry about calories or carbs.