Chapter 10
T he workday was almost done. Friday night was only a couple hours away. Despite that, Priya’s optimism about the weekend was fading, along with her excitement over a new patient.
“I’m sorry, Anya, but I can’t prescribe more hydrocodone.” She faced the young woman that was as jittery as a…well, as an addict facing withdrawals. “Your prescription for that runs through your primary doctor.”
Priya rattled off the options for endometriosis treatment, but her heart floated to the floor. The girl wasn’t listening. Her case wasn’t severe, but if she kept ignoring it and depending on pain meds, it would be.
Regardless, Priya went through her spiel. “Where would you like to start?”
“I’d like to start by dealing with the pain!” Anya jumped up. “I should’ve listened to what they said about you and gone to Dr. Bezos.”
What had they said? And who was they?
Priya pursed her lips. Dr. Bezos. That part she understood.
Also known as The Candy Man within the clinic.
The conspiracy part of her wondered if he was spreading rumors about her and her abilities.
When she’d first started, a quarter of his patients had switched to her, but she’d quickly learned that many were looking for a young, inexperienced doctor to give them another pain med prescription.
It hadn’t taken long for them to realize that Priya monitored their current prescriptions and was more interested in treating the reason for the pain than doling out more pills and calling it a day. The medications were a tool, not a cure.
She’d talked to her superior about The Candy Man already. Then the tragedy with Maisy had happened and she hadn’t had enough patients to fight over.
Anya paced the tiny room. She hadn’t stalked out. Priya took it as a good sign.
“Anya. The pain is going to get so bad that your current prescription won’t be effective. It’ll get so bad that no amount of pain killer will dent it.”
The girl paused, chewing the index fingernail of one hand, her other arm curved around her abdomen.
Priya again suggested a treatment plan. Anya listened. She probably still planned to get more pills out of another doctor, but she also wanted her condition treated. Priya could work with that.
The appointment wrapped up and Priya walked the woman out. Back at the nurse’s station, only Krista remained.
“That went better than I thought.” She squeezed the hand sanitizer nozzle to fill her palm with foam.
“There’ll be more next week.”
Priya groaned. Thanksgiving was next week.
Dr. Bezos was out of the office until the Monday after.
She grabbed a sanitizing wipe and started wiping counters.
It was standard for end of shift, but she needed soothing.
“At least my schedule will be sort of full.” She raised a questioning brow. She’d been too afraid to look.
“It’s better than it’s been. Not many openings left for each day. We’ll have to live it up.”
Oh, she would. An entire week of not worrying about the clinic administrator calling her into her office.
Priya glanced at Krista. Would she know what Anya was talking about? “Hey, have you heard anyone saying things about me? Warning patients to stay away?”
Krista frowned. “No. But most people know I’m your nurse. In my baby-wearing classes, they’ve already had their babies. Why?”
“Just something Anya said. It was kind of weird.”
Krista lifted a brow. “Was she high?”
“No, and that was part of her problem with me.”
“Maybe that’s what she meant. Someone told her you wouldn’t hook her up. They can’t put a quarter in you and turn the knob like they can with him. What can you do?”
Exactly. The guy had been working here longer than her dad. He had power and connections and the rest of the staff knew it. So why couldn’t she escape the feeling that wasn’t what Anya had meant?
“Whatcha got plans for tonight?” Krista asked.
“Not much.” So much. Her parents were coming home tomorrow, so she was sleeping over at Justin’s tonight. She’d have the rest of the weekend to reconnect with Mom and Dad and hear about their trip.
She hadn’t seen Justin all week, and each night was more restless than the last. Her body wanted more of what he gave.
“I bet it’ll be quiet with your parents gone for another week,” Krista said as she organized her desk for the night. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving with them out of town?”
She frowned, the wet wipe hanging in her hand. “What do you mean?” Mom had told her not to worry about the airport pickup. Priya assumed that meant she’d call a cab.
“The surprise trip? The one I heard your mom’s been planning for months?”
Priya couldn’t bring herself to shake her head. How did Krista know more than she did?
Her humiliation was averted when Krista explained. “I guess she arranged for his schedule to be kept clear this week so she could surprise him with an extra week in Mexico, complete with deep-sea fishing.”
Right. Because her vegetarian father made an exception for fish he caught.
Krista sighed wistfully. “Those are the perks of being here for thirty years. They have a little pull. You didn’t know?”
She forced a smile. “I guess Mom thought I was five again and couldn’t keep a secret.”
“Isn’t that like parents? You have a med school degree and they still act like you don’t know how to tie your shoes.”
Priya somehow managed to laugh, but she was hurting inside. With the flurry before the trip, Mom had probably forgotten to mention the surprise.
She pulled out her phone and sent a message to Devya. Did you know that Mom is surprising Dad with an extra week in Mexico?
Who knew what time it was in Paris? Priya didn’t bother to check. Ordinarily she would’ve been considerate, but her blood pressure thrummed between her ears. If Devya knew, then… Well, that’d really suck.
She walked out with Krista and did all the perfunctory actions expected of her. The “have a good weekend” routine, complete with a smile and a wave. But when she got into her car, she slumped in her seat.
Her phone buzzed. It was Devya. Soooo exciting!
That wasn’t a clear answer, but it was clear enough. Devya called Mom all the time. She was the little princess. The one they worried about.
No, it was okay. It was fine to be the responsible kid. She hadn’t run to them crying on their shoulders when Emmett had dumped her. Her plans had been set and she’d followed through even though her heart had been breaking.
Being a free-spirited artist meant Devya was treated differently, and Priya accepted that. Was still trying to accept that.
Her phone rang. She fumbled with it but answered. “Dev? Is everything okay?”
Loud music almost drowned out her sister’s voice. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Isn’t it the middle of the night there?” She winced as she said it. That was a ripe opening for her sister’s teasing.
Devya’s throaty laugh was so like her. “The night is just starting, Pri-Pri. I miss your face and thought I’d call before”—a knowing giggle—“the night gets away from me.”
Priya did a quick calculation. It was almost midnight in Paris. Oh, to be young and funded by doting parents and grandparents. “I didn’t know about Mom and Dad. I thought they were coming home tomorrow.”
“Old people can be spontaneous. In fact, you should try it sometime.”
Devya’s teasing got old. Priya could afford to party all night, too, if she hadn’t directed all her financial help into paying for school.
“Guess what? I’m flying to London next week. Papa Patel didn’t want me to get homesick over Thanksgiving.”
Tears pricked the backs of Priya’s eyes. Her grandfather who didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving and never visited for the holiday when he’d lived in America was going to recognize the day for Devya. Why had she answered the phone? “Tell them—” She had to clear her throat. “Tell them hi for me.”
“I will. I should let you go. I’m probably keeping you from exciting weekend plans.”
Her weekend was wide-open now. “No. I’ll probably help Justin Walker with his new baby.” She squeezed her eyes. Why had she said that? It would inspire questions.
“Oooh, Justin.” Another laugh that proved Devya lived life at full speed. “I would ask if he was anyone a sister should have to worry about, but come on .”
Priya glared out the window. “What do you mean?”
“You? Like, a rancher’s wife? Living out in the country? With animals that walk in their own poo? Pri-Pri. You’d go crazy.” There was that laugh again, only it was at Priya’s expense. “You wear leather, you don’t grow it.”
“He raises sheep.”
“And you prefer cashmere. That’s goat wool, FYI.”
Enough of this. “We’re just friends, and he needs a hand.”
“As long as he’s not using you.” Her spontaneous sister was suddenly serious. “Promise me you’re going to do something this weekend that you need. Take care of yourself for once.”
She flashed back to the moment she’d told Devya that Emmett had broken up with her. Good. Now you can do something for yourself instead of what Emmett always needs.
Her baby sister surprised her sometimes. “I promise.”
“I miss you.” Devya sighed wistfully as a new round of music started. “I don’t miss Moore, but I miss you. And Mom and Dad. Grandma and Grandpa.”
Priya frowned at the longing in those words. Suddenly, she was grateful Papa Patel was looking out for Devya. But that was how it worked. They all worried about Dev. “Give Papa and Nana a big hug—for me and for yourself.”
“Yes— Oh, my friends are here. Bye!”
The line went dead. Priya stared at the phone. You? Like, a rancher’s wife? She’d ignore Devya’s comment but not the rest of her advice. Do something for herself.
That would be spending the night with Justin. That should qualify because of their deal. He wasn’t using her. They were using each other.
He should be irritated.
Priya was on her knees, that beautiful hair spilling out of a messy bun and caressing her neck, her pert ass in the air, giving him a look as wicked as the one he’d been graced with the night before.