I stood behind her as she leaned over and let all her stuff spill onto the belt.
Just as she was standing up straight, her face went pale and she ran for the door.
She puked in the bushes long enough for me to put my chicken breasts in the pile of stuff and say, “Ring it all up.”
Monique frowned. “It’s not yours.”
“No,” I agreed. “But I’m paying for hers. Ring it up.”
Monique did not like that at all.
“You don’t know her,” she accused.
I refused to reply.
She finally added my chicken breasts to Constance’s things, and I swiped my card to pay.
I didn’t bother to wait for Monique to bag anything. I bagged it all myself and took off, heading outside to the woman who was still puking in the bushes.
Pity rolled through me as I said, “Follow me to my office.”
She looked up, and I nearly laughed when I saw tears and snot running down her face. Along with a little puke.
“What office?” she asked.
“The medical examiner’s building,” I said. “I can start an IV and get some anti-nausea meds in you.”
“You’re a doctor?” she asked in disbelief.
My brows rose. “Yeah.”
“Really?” she asked.
I could still hear the disbelief in her tone.
“Yeah,” I repeated. “Now, do you want to stop puking or what?”
She frowned.
I held out my hand.
She bent over and puked again.
Eight
Blow me.
—Today’s inspirational quote
Constance
He was a doctor.
An actual doctor.
What in the world was going on?
This man didn’t look like any doctor that I knew!
