Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“And risk putting him back in the hospital? No way. You’re going to visit anyway, and it makes sense if I tag along. He’ll probably feel more comfortable talking if you’re in the room.”
“So you’re using me,” I deadpanned.
Pierce rolled his eyes as he secured his latte in the cupholder. “I’m asking a favor. As a friend.”
“Fine. But we need to stop for flowers and—wait. Can you go to the hospital without an entourage?”
“You are my entourage.”
I opened my mouth to ask him what the fuck that was supposed to mean, when the SUV stopped. Raul tapped the screen and lowered it a moment later.
“We’re here, sir.”
Pierce grabbed a Dodgers cap from the seat pocket in front of him and pulled it on. “Let’s do this.”
There was no time for questions. A security guard whisked us through a side entrance to what looked like—
“We’re at the wrong hospital,” I commented in my best Captain Obvious impression.
Pierce motioned me to follow the stoic guard into an elevator. “Right hospital, different wing. We’re visiting the cool cats first. If anyone asks who you are, tell them you’re my assistant.”
I flipped him off, stepping closer to whisper-hiss, “I am not your fucking assistant. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
His lips tickled my earlobe. “It’s just protocol. Everyone needs a title. Choose a different one.”
“Like what? Right-hand man?” I seethed, giving a discreet lewd gesture.
Pierce snickered. “I like it. You’re hired.”
“Screw you,” I huffed under my breath.
“You can do whatever you want to me later, baby.” He winked, flashing a lopsided grin that suddenly made me feel warm all over. “For now, let’s keep it rated G for the kids.”
“What kids? Where are we?”
The doors slid open to the fifth floor bustling with manic activity and the hum of multiple conversations one would expect at any hospital. The giant beach mural featuring kids riding dolphins and tossing colorful balls to giraffes watching the action behind palm trees…that was different.
A middle-aged nurse with a jet-black bob manning a circular reception area noticed us first. She gave a discreet wave and held up one finger.
Pierce inclined his head, pulling me aside as she skirted her desk.
“This is the cool-cat ward a.k.a. the children’s ward for acute pediatric care. As you’ve probably heard, I’ve been on a goodwill crusade, and bringing video games to kids for photo ops is one of my assignments. I’m not gonna lie, this place scared the ever-living fuck out of me. I don’t like hospitals. I always thought they were where you go when things go from bad to worse, and that’s probably true, but I’ve been here a couple of times now, and these kids are amazing.”
“Kids,” I repeated in a daze.
“I don’t have any merch with me today, but I promised Chase I’d help him get to the next level of his Baxter video game, so…here we are. Give me fifteen minutes, and then we’ll blow this popsicle stand and see what the old man remembers. Deal?”
My mouth had fallen open halfway through his explanation. And while I was trying to process this new info, I couldn’t help but notice that everyone was looking our way. Nurses, doctors, parents, young patients…it was daunting. It got even more daunting when the cell phones came out.
“They’re taking photos of us,” I whispered, unable to keep the panic out of my voice.
“That’s no big deal,” Pierce assured me. “Remember, you’re my assistant.”
“Right. Got it.” And though I might not like it, I suddenly understood the reason. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. Just…come on. We’re wasting time.”
I followed at a distance and watched Pierce in action, slapping high fives with children in wheelchairs, stooping to ask how they were doing or distract them with a funny story. He knew how to work the room without overwhelming it. I felt my shoulders relax and my stiff smile melt into something real as he moved from kid to kid, stopping to have a word with every single one of them.
The kids and their families lit up when Pierce walked into a room. They made space so he could fit his chair right next to their beds, then got tongue-tied and couldn’t speak. Trust me, I was equally overwhelmed. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to talk to a ten-year-old who’d lost his hair and was on his third round of chemo. But Pierce was…masterful. Moreover, he genuinely seemed to care.
He met with a thirteen-year-old girl who’d been in a horrific car accident, a twelve-year-old burn victim, and three cancer patients. The last kid, Chase, was six and had been battling leukemia for two years. Apparently, he was the reason Pierce stopped by today.
“Yo, Chase. How’s it goin’?” He greeted the child with a fist bump, then pulled his Dodger cap off and handed it to the bald boy with a toothy grin. “You wanted this, right? It’s brand-new. I wore it for ten minutes. No cooties, I promise. You can ask my assistant.”