“I’ll take you up on that,” Clay said. “Also, know that now you’re on Heather’s and the rest of the Sextant’s radar. So get ready for matchmaking efforts galore.”
“What’s a Sextant?”
Clay waved a hand. “It’s a long story that involves an obscene amount of drunk Googling and a gaggle of women. The point is, Heather’s got a good circle of friends, but they’re all paired off. Now, they’re looking for fresh meat.”
Jet chuckled. “Well, consider me fresh meat then. If they have anyone as cool as Heather, I’d be all over that.”
His eyes narrowed. “She’s mine.”
“That I’m well aware, my friend,” Jet said. “My point was that you have good taste.”
Clay grinned. “That I do.”
“So, if there’s another Heather around. One that’s not yours,” he added when Clay started scowling again. “Then, I’m in.”
With a nod, Clay headed toward the elevator. “Just saying, there is another Heather around.”
“Yeah?”
Clay pressed the button to call the car and glanced back over his shoulder. “Yeah. Her name is Trix.”
Nine
Trix
She’d had fun with the girls, more fun than she would have expected, especially on their final day together, when they’d all blown off responsibility and had gone to the hot springs she’d nervously suggested the previous day in Calistoga.
They hadn’t shot her down.
They’d actually extended their trip by a day and had all gone with her.
Trix grinned. So yeah, she had friends now.
Still, despite having grown up in the Bay Area, she had never done a lot of the touristy stuff. No cable car, no Alcatraz, no Hearst Castle or Missions.
When she’d bought her first car, she’d put as much gas in the tank as she could afford and then had driven wherever the tank would get her. To the beach, to Pier 39, to Tahoe once or twice when she’d really gotten good tips at work. But it had never taken her to Calistoga or Lassen or Death Valley. She’d never made it down to San Diego or even to Yosemite.
Trix had been all around the world and yet, had hardly explored her home state.
Well, that was going to change now.
First with Calistoga, and to be able to check it off her list felt good. Next week, she was going to do a tour of Alcatraz.
Feeling proud of herself both for surviving the weekend—because yes, the other women were great and fun and had included her in everything, but they were also a lot for a woman who wasn’t used to that much socialization—but she was also proud for actually having a plan to live her life more fully.
For the first time ever she had goals and hopes and dreams, and she wasn’t going to compromise them.
So, yes, Alcatraz and then Lassen and Death Valley and San Diego. Hell, maybe she’d live vicariously and take a drive down Highway 1.
Go her.
But for now, she had to go to work. The sightseeing and hopes and dreams would have to wait until her next few days off. She was on days from seven in the morning until five at night for the foreseeable future.
Which was a good thing, considering Jet worked nights.
If they had to work at the same place, at least they were on opposing shifts.
See? Look at her go with the bright side. She filled her coffee mug, shrugged into her backpack, and made her way down to her car. It would feel good to be on her feet for her shift, to walk off all that wine and cheese and lazing around she’d done all weekend.
Plus, Jet wouldn’t be there.
She could work and focus on her job and not have to worry about betraying something to the man who’d broken her heart.
The one she’d declared that she cared about just a few days before.
“Ugh,” she groaned, starting up her car, having almost forgotten that critically embarrassing moment.
Well, she had twenty-four more hours to get over it because Jet didn’t work Wednesdays . . . and go her for having the wherewithal to have checked the schedule before she left.
The drive was its typical stop-and-go, but inching her way to the hospital at least let her get caught up on her podcasts.
That day’s presentation was about a guy who let snakes bite him to build up his tolerance to venom, a la The Princess Bride and the Iocane powder Battle of the Wits, though no one had died.
Yet.
The nurse in her shook her head.
The woman who’d become obsessed with reality TV of late was fascinated.
But by the time she’d pulled into the parking lot, Trix had moved on to music and she was softly singing a song by Rhianna as she got out of her car and gathered her stuff.
“Always did have a pretty voice.”
She jumped, narrowly avoiding banging her head on the frame of the car, and whipped around to glare at Jet.
“What the fuck?” she snapped. “You like sneaking up on women?”
A quick flash of white. “I never could resist doing it to you.”
She rolled her eyes, tossed her backpack over one shoulder, then closed the door and locked her car. “I thought you weren’t working today.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake.
Trix had just all but told Jet she’d been aware enough of him to know his schedule. Paired with the whole I-care-about-you nonsense and—
Run.
As in, she needed to get the hell out of there.
“Well, good to see you,” she said hurriedly and took off for the hospital.
He followed her.
Oh, good Lord.
She pointed toward the parking lot. “Shouldn’t you go home and get some sleep?”
“Nope.”
Her lips pressed into a flat line, irritation weaving through her, but she didn’t snap back an answer like she wanted. Instead, she swallowed her retort and kept walking toward the hospital.
And Jet kept walking right alongside her.
Finally, ten feet from the door, she stopped and spun around to face him. “Seriously, Jet. What the fuck are you doing?”
He clipped on his badge, strode by her. “I’m going to work.”
She followed him. “But you don’t work this shift.”
“That’s twice you’ve mentioned my work hours.” He leaned down, knowing eyes alighting on hers for a moment. “Keeping track of me?”
Trix sniffed. “Only as much as to know how to steer clear.” She brushed by him. “Too bad that didn’t work today.”
At the doors, Jet reached past her and swiped his badge to open the panel. “I don’t mind working with you. You’re the best nurse in this place.”
“I wouldn’t say that too loudly,” she muttered, striding through the door in front of him. “You have to work with all the rest of them, remember?”
“I remember.”
“And why are you on days?”
“That was always the plan. I was just filling in for Dr. Joyce while she was on maternity leave.”
Trix’s gut twisted. “Oh.”
They walked in silence the rest of the way to the break room, which was the point that she finally realized something. “Why don’t you use the physician break room?”