Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“How are Jillian and Rae doing? I really need to call her. It’s been too long, but this place keeps me busy.”
“They’re good” is all he gives her. I stare at him trying to read his expression while he looks at the doctor. The nurse comes back into the room and stands close to the bed.
“I’ve got Dash,” the doctor says.
Dash? She has a nickname for him? She takes the box from the nurse, and the nurse’s face drops in clear disappointment.
“Are you sure? I can—”
“I’ve got it,” Dr. Porter says again, and this time she gives the nurse a quick glare.
Great, wow, women are fighting over him. The nurse huffs out a breath before stomping from the room. I actually want to laugh a little because this is getting ridiculous. Is this what it’s like to be out in public with Dasher Sleigh?
She gets to work cleaning the cut, and luckily he doesn't need any stitches. She patches him up and puts some glue on his hand while talking the whole time.
As I listen, I find out they went to college together and they ask each other about old friends. I start to feel almost awkward, because neither of them is saying a word to me. I thought at first that she didn't notice me, which is dumb, because we’re literally in the same room. A couple of times I catch her stealing a few looks my way, but my phone chimes before I can say anything to her.
When I reach to grab it, my purse falls onto the ground and everything inside of it spills out. The two of them look my way as I bend down to scoop everything back into my bag.
“Sorry,” I mumble, heat rushing to my face. When I sit back down in my seat, I keep my head down and put on my glasses so I can respond to Jewels’ texts. I let her know everything went off without a hitch at the Mills’ place, but I don’t mention that I’m at the hospital with one of our most important clients.
“Are you going to introduce me to your assistant?” Dr. Porter asks.
Ouch. Was it that clear that I couldn't possibly be a girlfriend? I guess I don’t scream money, because I think I’m what people might call mousy with a side of plump.
“She’s not my assistant,” he says but doesn't say anything else, and Dr Porter doesn't push.
“All right, I think you’re good to go.”
I finally look up at them and see Dasher nod. “Thanks.” Once again his response is short and borderline terse. This feels so awkward, and I wonder if they have a past or something. She stares at him for a long moment and looks like she’s about to say something but changes her mind.
“Tell Jillian I said hi. I think I might call her after Christmas.” He gives her a nod, and she finally turns to leave but stops after she pulls the curtain back. “You know I’m busy, but I’d always make time for you, Dash. Call me.” With that she’s gone.
“Okay.” I let out a breath as I stand from my seat. “Let’s get you out of here and home before the ladies around here mob your room,” I joke, but he doesn't crack a smile.
“Yes, let's get out of here.” His non-injured hand comes to my elbow to guide me out of the room and straight out the exit. We make our way over toward my car, and he opens the driver’s side door for me.
“Go to your home,” he tells me when I pull out of the parking lot of the hospital. “I’ll have my driver pick me up there.”
“I can take you home, Dasher. It’s fine, really.”
“No. It’s late and I want to be sure you make it home safely. Really, you should just pack a bag and stay at my place for a few days. A big storm is rolling in.”
“What?” I glance over to him when I pull up to a red light.
Dasher’s eyes are on me again. “We’re going to your place to pack a bag. It’s not like you won’t be there first thing in the morning anyway. Then I can have someone take you over to the Mill’s home. I’m sure that’s where you’ll be.”
“Yes, I need to be there mid-afternoon.” My plan was to stop at Dasher’s in the morning and make sure everything is on track and then head over to Rich Mill’s house to get things ready for the party. “I’ll be fine. They said it might shift and not even hit us.”
“Why risk it? I’m closer, and this car isn't made for heavy snowfall.”
“I don’t think—”
“You will,” he orders. “I have a dozen empty bedrooms.”
I have a feeling this is a fight I’m not going to win. I also think he might be right about the whole snow thing. It would suck to get stuck home tomorrow because of my car.