Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Palmer waved the handsome EMT off. Of course he would think that. He was in the medical profession. Weren’t doctors, nurses, and the like always looking for some ailment to treat?
She checked her facilities. Other than being tired and feeling a tad weak, she felt fine. She touched her face, wiggled her fingers, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Nothing seemed off.
“I’m okay,” she said again, hoping to reassure her customer. Palmer handed the printed receipt to Kent, who took it reluctantly.
Kent hesitated and leaned closer to the counter. “I think you need to see a doctor if you have dizzy spells often. You shouldn’t mess around with those. There could be a wide range of things wrong.”
Palmer nodded. She appreciated his concern, but she was certain that whatever happened was a mere fluke in her system. For all she knew, it was the pill she’d taken minutes before she’d come out to help him. Kent reached across the imaginary plane and took her hand in his.
“I’m just worried,” he told her. “I see a lot of stuff in the field, and it’s those ‘you never know’ moments that can really throw someone off kilter. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand and then slid hers out from under his. Kent didn’t look convinced at all. He took his slip of paper, tucked it into his pocket, and kept his eyes on Palmer until he was forced to turn around and watch where he walked. He gave Palmer one last look before he exited the building.
Palmer felt relieved when Kent left. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her medical issues in front of her coworkers and the bank’s patrons. She continued to work through lunch, and when the final teller came back, she took a few minutes for herself. On her way to the break room, she ran into Frank Martinez, a third-generation owner of Bay Bank who tended to stay in his upstairs office unless he was needed, which if Palmer had her way would be never. They had a stellar working relationship, and he allowed her the freedom to do as she pleased. He liked to joke around with the staff and never took things seriously. Palmer and Frank were night and day when it came to work ethics. She’d had to work for everything she had, while Frank had inherited his job. Still, she respected that this was his bank, and they both expected their customers to be happy.
“Hi, Frank.”
“Good afternoon, Palmer.”
They went into the break room together, which Palmer found odd. He had a full kitchen upstairs and didn’t need to use the one everyone else used, and she wondered why he was downstairs if they weren’t meeting. He used the microwave to heat up his coffee and whistled while he waited for it to ding.
Palmer pulled her bag of lunch out of the refrigerator. She sat down, opened her yogurt, and started reading the newspaper. As soon as the microwave dinged, Frank came over and sat down.
“I’ve been thinking of hiring another teller, maybe someone part time to help with the lunch rush.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Palmer said. “Doing so would allow the team to take lunches two at a time instead of staggering them. I think they’d like to have lunch with someone. I know a few of the staff would like to walk at lunchtime together.”
Frank nodded. “That’s solved then. I’ll have Celine put an ad online or whatever we do these days. I think we’ll hire at least two. This way, we always have coverage.”
Frank stood and Palmer thanked him. As far as bosses went, he was a stand-up guy, but he didn’t like to work, unlike his father, who’d been very hands on until he retired and turned things over to his son.
Palmer was halfway through her yogurt when her stomach rolled. She placed her hand over it and willed the nausea to go away. She could now mark yogurt off the list of things to buy. Every week, it was something new. She was the type of person who stopped eating whatever didn’t settle well in her stomach. Unfortunately for Palmer, she was running out of things she could eat.
She threw her yogurt away and took a bite of her sandwich, but again, her stomach twisted, and she knew lunch was going to consist of her green tea. She went to the water cooler, added water to her mug, and put it into the microwave. While she waited for the water to heat, Frank’s assistant walked in and went right to the refrigerator. Celine enjoyed eating lunch downstairs, where she could talk to people, and not be at Frank’s beck and call.
“I heard the good news,” she said, no doubt referring to Frank’s suggestion about hiring more staff.