Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
KATE
Opening and closing my locker for the third time, I blink my eyes in hopes the red box with a gold bow sitting inside would disappear. Having checked the number twice, I take a deep breath before reaching inside for the box, my fingers trembling as they slide over the legendary name.
I don’t have to contemplate who it’s from, or why it’s here. Dr. Vickers stopped me in the hall and congratulated me on my assumption of a third bullet in Angelo’s shoulder.
Using my thumb, I slide off the gold ribbon, the satin fabric caressing the side of my hand. Lifting the lid, my breath hitches in my throat as I take in the platinum watch resting on the black velvet. Light dances off the diamond facets which surround the face, the second hand moving fluidly in a circle.
There are rules about these kinds of gifts, I silently tell myself as I brush my teeth. Giving it back is the right thing to do, I remind myself as I slip into the bed.
Closing my eyes, I try not to think about Dante. How intense he is, or the way he carries himself as if he doesn’t have a fear in the world. Tugging the blanket around me, I struggle to push away the pull I feel to run my fingers through the thick hair of his.
Knowing this is a losing battle, I push back the blankets, maneuvering my feet over the side of the bed and reach for my bag and, more importantly, my laptop.
Knowledge is power, and perhaps if I knew enough about Dante, it would put my mind at ease and allow sleep to come. Opening the lid, I find a message updating the weather conditions. A pressure system is keeping the snow at bay, the moisture churning as it waits for the wind to shift. In simple terms, I’m here for at least another few days. Checking my message app, I’m sad to see Andi is still ignoring me.
Clicking the search bar, I type Dante’s name followed by enter, mentally picturing satellites lining up in space in order to locate the information I need.
The result is almost instant. Clicking the first link, I read much the same information as Tiffiani, with one stark difference. Dante was married; Bellamia Antonia Sophia Cavaletti. According to the article, they’d met and married in Italy, a lavish wedding with a guest list of close to one thousand. There wasn’t a photo, which was probably a good thing as looking into the eyes of the woman whose husband I was fantasizing about wasn’t the best plan.
I went on to read about various crimes he was accused of, yet never convicted, the author clearly not a fan of the family. It touched on a few charities the family contributed to, and a race in the south of France they sponsored.
Closing my computer as a yawn escapes my lips, my digging has been successful in quieting the questions inside my head. The Cavalettis may be generous people with a criminal influence, but Dante was married, a boundary I would never cross.
Exiting the elevators, I rush to report as my inquisitive mind made me sleep through two of my alarms. I’d barely had time to brush my teeth, the haze of sleep still clinging to my brain. Stopping for coffee had been out of the question, so I would have to wait until I could snag a break in a few hours.
Stepping silently into the room, I find Porter changing the dressing on Angelo’s chest.
“How is he?”
“No change,” he whispers, securing a piece of tape over the clean gauze. “You look exhausted.”
“Thank you so much,” I feign being offended. “That's what every girl wants to hear first thing in the morning.” Moving around the bed, I performed my assessment as Porter hung a new bag of antibiotics.
“I overslept this morning and haven’t had any coffee yet. What is your excuse?” Banter is my love language, a fact most of my coworkers are aware of. Glancing around the room, I notice the chair in the corner is empty.
“Where did the VIP guest disappear to?”
Porter shrugs his shoulders as he tosses the empty bag into the trash. “The one with the salt and pepper hair left around midnight. The brother got a call a few hours ago and left shortly after.”
A call from the wife , I thought to myself as I logged into the computer. Maybe he’s meeting her for breakfast, or a morning quickie. Perhaps she was the one who purchased the watch, a little buy one to give and another to keep.
“Neurology is due to assess him this morning.” Having a neurology consult on an unconscious patient was standard procedure. Considering the number of professionals in the building, I'm surprised they didn’t come up last night.
“Hey, I’m headed to the cafeteria for some food. Want me to grab a coffee for you?”
Wrinkling up my nose, “Thanks, but I’d rather drink water from a storm drain.” I made the mistake of drinking coffee from the cafeteria once, took three days to recover from it.
“I could walk over to Daily Grind if you’d like.”
Before I could decline, Adam walked into the room, stethoscope in hand and a scowl on his face, followed by an equally disgruntled looking Dr. Mallace. I’d heard through the rumor mill Adam had been placed with Dr. Mallace in a final chance for the both of them. Adam with his wandering dick and Dr. Mallace for creating a hostile work environment.
“Assessment, Gleeson.” Dr. Mallace barked from the foot of the bed, his focus trained on the screen of his tablet. While his bedside manner lacked severely, his neurological skills did not.
I tried to ignore Adam as he stumbled through his report, keeping my attention on the screen of the computer, treating both of them as if they weren't there.
“Would have saved us the trouble if he’d just died on the street like the other lowlifes.”
My body stiffened as I replayed what Dr. Mallace mumbled. Raising my gaze from the screen to his balding head, anger bubbling inside me.
“Statistically speaking, he can hear you, Doctor Mallace.” Emphasizing the word.
“What do I care what this criminal can hear or not?”
“Well, right now he is our patient. Neither one of us was there when he was shot, for all we know he could have been trying to save someone’s life.”
“Take off those rose colored glasses Nurse Kate.” Mallace spit my title as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Men like this never do anything for the benefit of others.”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, I will be sure and add that to my email to the Chief of Staff and Patient Advocacy, I'm sure they will want to hear how our unconscious patients are being treated.”
Dr. Mallace tucks his tablet under his arm before motioning for Adam to head for the door. I wait long enough for the elevator to close before turning toward Angelo.
“You’ll have to forgive Dr. Mallace. He can’t help but be an asshole with two ex-wives and a girlfriend who is only with him for what he can buy her.” Reaching over, I take a washcloth and run it under hot water. I have no idea the last time Angelo had a shower, however if I were in his place, I would hope the nurse taking care of me would at least wash my face and hands.
“Just between us,” I whisper as I run the washcloth over his chin. “I hear from Tiffani, who would definitely know, he has a tiny dick.”
A part of me wishes Angelo would open his eyes and laugh, however, as I continue to wipe his visible skin, his eyes remain closed and breathing steady.
An audible gasp pulls me from my study questions to the now crowded nurses station. Several staff members stand watching something on the television in the lone empty room.
Standing from my chair, I give Angelo a quick check, noting zero change in his vitals before stepping from the room.
“What’s going on?” I questioned, only to receive a collective, “Shhh.”
Following their gaze, I see what looks like a warehouse on fire. Water sprays from the ladder of a firetruck, smoke billowing into the sky.
Making my way to the counter, a chill runs down my spine as the news anchor announces it as the fourth warehouse fire this morning.
“It’s either insurance, or someone pissed off someone they shouldn’t have.”
My mind flashes back to the encounter in the ER between Dante and Chuy. Could this be related?
“I have a delivery for Kate Romano.”
My attention snaps to the teenage boy standing in front of the elevators, a white bag with Daily Grind’s logo printed on the front.
“I’m Kate, but I didn’t order anything.”
He holds up the bag, shrugs his shoulders before placing it on the counter in front of me. “Sorry, lady, I just deliver.”
Taking the bag, I turn from the counter and head toward Angelo’s room. Once inside, I look in the bag to find a large cup of coffee with several bottles filled with various syrups and creamers. Lifting the cup, I find three words written on the side which cause my heart to leap in my chest.
You’re gorgeous in the morning, Tesoro.