Chapter 2 #2
I needed to get away from Alex, fast. When his back was turned, I dashed into what looked like another empty patient room. I leaned against the door, mentally kicking myself for thinking I could bluff my way through that disaster.
The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the walls. I quickly glanced around, and the room appeared to be deserted, but then I heard a noise. Something like the clacking of keys on a laptop. My heart skipped a beat as I peeked around the curtain.
Sitting in the hospital bed, typing furiously on a laptop, was none other than Mr. Workaholic from the airport. He looked just as grumpy as before, his brow furrowed in concentration.
I froze, my mind going blank with shock. Of all the people to run into here, why him? I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I scrambled to come up with a way to back out of the room without being noticed. Just slip out quietly, no big deal.
I took one slow, careful step backward—right into a metal tray stand. The clattering noise echoed through the room like a symphony of disaster. The tray skidded across the floor, clanging against the wall with a final, resounding bang.
Workaholic’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto mine. For a split second, neither of us moved.
I gave a sheepish grin. “Hey,” I said, my voice a little too high-pitched. “Just, uh, passing through.”
“Passing through?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You mean crashing through?”
A jolt of panic shot through me. I should’ve turned around and left, but the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Thanks to you, I got fired.” The moment the words left my lips, regret washed over me.
Why did I say that? I never open up, never let anyone see what’s really going on.
And now, I’ve just thrown it all out there like it’s no big deal.
What’s wrong with me? “Everything is going wrong in my life today.”
Mr. Workaholic raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Yeah, I could see that.”
His casual acknowledgment stung, and something inside me snapped. “Oh, really? And how exactly could you see that?”
He shrugged, barely sparing me a second glance as his attention drifted back to his laptop. “Well, considering the way we met... Let’s just say you didn’t exactly strike me as someone who has it all together.”
The casual way he said it, the way he barely even looked at me as he made that judgment, made my chest tighten with anger. It was like he had decided, from the very first moment, that I was some kind of disaster.
Maybe I was. But hearing it from him, in that cold, detached tone, made it feel so much worse. “Hey, mister, if you had stayed, I wouldn’t have been fired. Your liar of a limo driver said I ran into him.”
He sighed, not even glancing up from whatever he was working on, which was probably some critical spreadsheet that the world would end without. “It’s unfortunate, but that’s how the world works. You can’t expect everyone to be honest.”
The audacity of this man was unbelievable. Here I was, my life unraveling at the seams, and he had the nerve to sit there and lecture me like I was some incompetent child.
But of course, once I started, it was like the floodgates opened, and I couldn’t stop.
The words just kept tumbling out, each one more dramatic than the last. “I lost my job and my house and found out my boyfriend was cheating on me all in the same day. So thanks for asking. I’m doing just great!
Really, I should start writing self-help books. ”
The heat of embarrassment crept up my neck. I never spill my guts to anyone, especially not to a jerk workaholic.
For a moment, just a split second, I thought I saw something soften in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by impenetrable coolness.
“It’s Kathleen, right?” He didn’t wait for me to respond, only put a hand on his chest. “Topher Brodie. Sorry to hear that things have been, uh, rough for you. But maybe this is an opportunity for you to reassess and focus on what’s important. Like finding a new job.”
I stared at him in disbelief. Was this his version of sympathy? “Wow, thanks for the heartfelt advice.” My words dripped with sarcasm.
Mr. Workaholic, er, Topher Brodie, didn’t rise to the bait, his fingers tapping away on his tablet.
The sound grated on my already frayed nerves.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and couldn’t help but notice how sharp and put-together he looked in that suit.
It fit his broad shoulders to perfection, and the pants emphasized his long, muscled legs, and—
Nope! I would not let this insufferable man distract me, no matter how hot he was.
I eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing here anyway? You look like some kind of pharmaceutical sales rep or someone here to sell overpriced medical equipment.”
He glanced up briefly, his expression unreadable. “Right now, I’m just handling some business.”
“Did they hire you to scare patients into paying their bills on time or something?”
He shook his head, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. “Listen, I have a lot to get done. I’d appreciate it if you found somewhere else to process your issues.”
I rolled my eyes, frustration bubbling up inside me.
Like I wanted to be stuck here with him, of all people.
I turned toward the door, ready to make my escape, but froze mid-step when, through the little window on the door, I caught sight of Alex outside, talking animatedly with Dr. Sparky.
My stomach dropped. Oh, no. The last thing I needed was to run into them right now.
Without thinking, I ducked out of sight of the window, practically flattening myself against the wall like I was dodging laser beams in a spy movie. Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.
Topher looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “What are you doing?”
I gave him a pointed look. “My ex-boyfriend is out there. With his new girlfriend. There’s no way I’m walking out of this room right now.”
Topher’s annoyance was palpable. “Fine, then be quiet so I can get some work done.”
“Fine,” I slumped into the nearest chair. If he wanted silence, he was going to get the most passive-aggressive silence I could muster.
A minute passed before he spoke up again, his tone dripping with irritation. “I can hear you breathing.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, sorry. Let me just stop doing that for you.”
He didn’t respond, his attention already back on his screen.
I crossed my arms and tried to make myself as small and invisible as possible.
We fell into a tense silence. I hated him, or at least I wanted to.
But sitting there, with the weight of the day pressing down on me, I realized just how alone I felt.
And as much as I hated to admit it, his presence, however irritating, was the closest thing I had to comfort in this godforsaken hospital.
But I couldn’t let him see that. No, I’d rather hold my breath until I pass out.
Sitting there, I avoided even glancing in Mr. Workaholic’s direction, focusing on the wall instead.
Alex’s words echoed in my mind: how he said I never really let him in, not even after two years together.
Maybe he was right, but a bitter sense of satisfaction washed over me.
It was good, after all, that I never let anyone in.
They always ended up proving you can’t count on anyone but yourself.
Alex and Mr. Workaholic were just reminders that opening up only leads to disappointment.
Better to keep people at a distance, where they couldn’t hurt me.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, when suddenly, the chair wobbled. I tried to steady myself, but the chair leg must have been uneven because it tipped unexpectedly, and I found myself pitching forward. Instinctively, I reached out to grab something to stop my fall.
Unfortunately, that something was on the edge of the bed where Topher sat.
The next thing I knew, I tumbled onto the bed. There was no time to brace myself, no time to avoid what was coming next. I could only watch in horror as Topher, startled by the sudden movement, tried to sit up at the exact same moment.
Our heads collided with a dull thud, the impact sending a sharp jolt of pain through my skull.
“Ouch!” I yelped, grabbing my forehead, while he let out a low grunt of pain, his eyes wide with shock.
In the chaos, my legs got tangled in the sheets, trapping me against him.
I could feel his hands instinctively grasping my arms as we both struggled to regain our balance, to pull ourselves out of this ridiculous mess.
But somehow, in the flurry of limbs and fabric, we ended up in a twisted, awkward heap, our faces inches apart, practically nose to nose. Time seemed to freeze, and for a second, I could only stare at him, wide-eyed and breathless.
Everything in the room disappeared—the hospital, the chair, the looming cloud of my own problems. All I could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed awkwardly against mine and the sheer embarrassment that made my cheeks burn like they were on fire.
My heart hammered in my chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that only intensified the longer we stayed like that.
Just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get worse, the door swung open.
Because of course it did.
A nurse walked in, her eyes going as wide as saucers as she took in the scene: the two of us, tangled in a mess of sheets.
“What on earth is going on in here?” she demanded, her voice dripping with the kind of disbelief usually reserved for catching teenagers making out behind the bleachers. “This is a hospital, not a motel!”
Topher sprang into action with the speed of someone who had just remembered an urgent meeting.
We scrambled apart in a frantic rush, practically tripping over each other to untangle the sheets and put some distance between us.
I managed to roll off the bed, landing in a heap on the floor with my pride barely intact, while he tried to straighten his suit like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
I could still feel the heat in my cheeks as I desperately avoided looking at either of them.
The nurse shoved her hands on her hips. “Mr. Brodie, your mom needs you. You need to come now,” she said, her tone all business. Then she glanced at me, eyebrows raised in judgment. “And your girlfriend can come too. Get yourselves in shape and head to room 5023 ASAP.”
I blinked in surprise, processing the information that this work-obsessed, seemingly unflappable man had a mother in the hospital. A mother who needed him.
The empty room spun into another place and time, a different hospital room with beeps and yelling voices, with nurses pulling me away from the bedside.
Like those nurses, this nurse expected to be obeyed. She marched out without waiting for a response, leaving us standing there in stunned silence.
Topher shifted into action, his demeanor still sharp and focused, like nothing could throw him off. “There’s a program running on my computer. The Wi-Fi in this place is terrible, and I can’t risk moving the laptop, or I’ll lose the connection.”
His gaze landed on me with the same intensity he probably reserved for boardrooms and deals. “I’ll pay you five-hundred dollars to keep an eye on the laptop and bring it to room 5023 when the program’s done.”
I blinked, still trying to process the awkward collision, the nurse’s orders, and now this unexpected request. He didn’t waver, didn’t show a hint of anything but confidence, like he fully expected me to agree without question. There was no room for vulnerability or uncertainty in his world.
He paused for a moment, then added, almost as an afterthought, “Just so you know, if anyone tries to steal the computer or mess with it, the security system will lock it down and wipe everything.”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to tell him to shove his five-hundred dollars and that he should figure it out himself.
But five-hundred dollars was more than just a little extra cash.
It was enough to cover bills I’d been worrying about for weeks, enough to buy me some breathing room.
I hesitated, suddenly aware of how much I needed that money.
It was like a lifeline I couldn’t afford to pass up. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
He gave a curt nod. “Just make sure it gets to room 5023 when the program’s done running.”
And with that, he turned and strode out of the room, as if it were just another day at the office.
I let out a sigh as the door clicked shut behind him.
So, let’s recap: I’d lost my job, my home, and my boyfriend, and I was taking cash from a guy who probably had a personal assistant just to open his emails.
A guy who probably thought “roughing it” meant staying in a four-star hotel.
A guy who probably had a team to help him pick out his tie.
Really hitting new heights here. Yep, definitely living the dream.