The Scheme

***

KENDY

I had rushed Brian out of my apartment in the early morning, hoping I could get a little shut-eye before my twelve-hour shift.

Today, the hospital was unusually chaotic. We had already treated two gunshot wounds, both cases I’d been assigned to. When my butt finally hit the seat at the nurses’ station, my whole body collapsed against the chair. I felt like I’d been on my feet forever. All I wanted to do was soak them in some warm water and get a pedicure.

My hand moved the mouse, bringing the computer to life. Once in the system, I typed my write-up for my last case. When I spotted Dr. Klein from the corner of my eye, I perked up, looking studious.

But remembering him walking out of the bar with that chick had irked me.

I pulled all my hair to the side, flattening my unruly mane, probably crazy from the long day. My eyes flickered discretely in Dr. Klein’s direction. He looked hot as hell, which eased up the a

Karen, the charge nurse, wheeled out Mrs. Calley from room two-oh-one. She had been admitted for dehydration and was on observation. The woman, no younger than seventy-five, brightened when Dr. Klein raised his head.

The scene broke my mood, the corners of my mouth pulling up as it unfolded in front of me. I could tell she had a little crush on a certain doctor as she smiled big and spoke fast. Her loud voice could also be blamed on her hearing aid, but it was more likely Dr. Klein.

Get in line, Mrs. Calley, I thought humorously.

“Adeline, I see you’re doing much better,” he said, easing next to her. “Looking good now. In a few days, you’ll be back to a hundred percent. You’ll have to keep drinking liquids and stay out of the heat.”

Her wrinkly hand patted his as she peered at him. “I’m just glad it wasn’t anything more serious. I could’ve fallen again and bruised my hip. That would require a longer stay.”

He chuckled lightly. “How is that hip of yours doing?”

“Better.” She nodded. “Still a little sore after that surgery, but better.”

Observing her cheerful demeanor, I wondered if she’d ask Dr. Klein to massage it. I would. Even at the tender age of seventy-five, I was sure my personality would never change.

He patted her hand this time. “Don’t worry. Nothing a couple of Tylenols and rest won’t cure.”

Her laugh was carefree, making my smile widen at her display of affection toward my doctor. Normally, jealousy would surface, but not when the woman with a full head of grey hair looked giddy staring up at his face. The woman reminded me of my own nana, my grandmother I had loved so much.

“Thank you, doctor,” she cooed, her eyes lighting up.

“You take care and do call us if you have any concerns.” He placed her hands back on her lap and smiled sweetly before touching her shoulder and sauntering my way.

I ducked my head back to the computer, pretending to type, which ended up with random letters and a word I didn’t understand on my screen.

I sensed his presence looming above me. When I looked up, there he was in all his handsome glory. My pulse quickened in my throat, and the insides of my palms formed tiny sweat beads.

Boy, was he dreamy; even more so up close.

Inwardly, I sighed. But I composed myself and peered up. “Hi.”

He leaned into me, like he wanted to be closer, and my whole body went into overdrive. “Did you do something with your hair?” There was this sly grin on his face. He was definitely flirting, and now it was my turn to play coy as I glanced down at the keyboard.

“Well, Dr. Klein, I didn’t get it cut or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.” I flipped my hair over my other shoulder, making eye contact. “But I did curl it today.”

The side of his mouth twisted into a half smile as he took a strand of hair between his fingertips, making me die of utter happiness. “It looks great, Kendy. You should curl it more often. Oh, and from now on, you can call me James.”

He winked then walked away, and I watched his perfectly sculpted ass move down the hall. My stomach stirred, full of butterflies. Holy hottie.

If he loved curls, I’d seriously consider getting a perm.

I sca

It worked.

I couldn’t believe it frickin’ worked!

The scheme to make him all jealous at the bar with Brian had gotten me noticed.

No one could break my high.

With no one to share my giddiness with, I texted Brian.

Me: We did it. Our plan is working. Dr. Hot Pants loves me.

It took a few long seconds before he texted back.

Brian: How could he not?

Me: Truth

I replied and tucked my phone back in my pocket with a smile. “Now this weekend, I’ll help you with the women,” I muttered out loud.

Brian had held up his end of the deal, and it was time for me to fulfill mine.

***

BRIAN

I shouldn’t have been a

Maybe I was in denial. I couldn’t tell.

She had worked three twelve-hour shifts in a row and wanted to recuperate, but we’d been texting daily. Her fu

Tonight was going to be hysterical. She was determined to set me up. I would’ve rather stayed in with her, but I knew her whole game plan this evening would be entertaining.

I sat on the bar stool against the kitchen island. The black granite countertops were a stark contrast to the white Sports Illustrated magazine with the model, Kate Upton, on the cover.

I heard the jingle of keys and looked up to see Trey strolling in.

With one hand, he undid his tie, and sauntered into the kitchen. “Man oh man. Daddy dearest made me work my ass off today.”

I laughed out loud, thinking how ironic it was that his father made him work harder than any of his execs or other partners.

“I feel you.” I sighed as my shoulders released the tension from the long day of customer calls.

Trey swung his suit jacket off and threw it on top of the bar stool next to me then went to sort through the pile of mail on the counter.

“One day, you’re going to be King of Manhattan like your daddy. I’m jealous, man,” I said.

He shook his head, an air of sadness in his face. “He’s got all the money in the world, but he’s lonely. Don’t be jealous.” The air in the atmosphere shifted to cold, as though I’d hit a nerve with my comment.

“You can buy company,” I joked, trying to lighten his mood.

“And I’m sure he has.” Trey reached into a drawer for the letter opener. “Anyways, what’re we doing tonight?” he asked as he tore through his first piece of mail.

“I’m meeting Kendy.”

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask the question I knew he wanted to. “You headed to the bar? Mind if I tag along?” He threw me my pile of mail.

“You can hang out, but not at the after party at her place.” I smirked. “Sorry, I don’t swing that way.”

“Dumbass.” He rolled his eyes. “I can get my own.”

“We’re leaving at ten,” I told him.

A part of me wanted Kendy to myself since I hadn’t seen her all week, but I knew that was plain stupid. We weren’t together, and yet I missed her. It was becoming harder and harder to lie to myself.

Was it possible to miss someone who wasn’t even yours?

I looked at the clock on the wall. We still had time to grab something to eat before I was going to meet her. “Hey, want to grab di