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Cindy’s eyes narrow, and I know right away she doesn’t believe him. I mean, why on Earth would we walk to the end of the hall and discuss a patient in an empty room? We could’ve talked in a number of different places, and this isn’t one of them.
Shit.
“I was looking for you,” Cindy says, her eyes narrowed on me. “Room 212 needs a dressing change.”
“That’s my patient. I’ll assist.” Drake puts a hand to my elbow to guide me away.
Cindy steps in front of us, blocking me. She looks from Drake to me and back to Drake, who looks pissed. His face is as hard as stone, and when he lifts a brow, silently daring her to challenge him, Cindy backs down. She steps to the left, allowing us to pass.
My heart slams inside my chest, and I pick up my pace, needing to get away from Drake for a few seconds, because clearly I can’t think when I’m around him.
Why did I allow him to pull me into that room? I know better than that. He knows better than that.
“Slow down,” he says softly. “You’re drawing attention to yourself.”
“I think we drew attention to ourselves when you pulled me into that room,” I whisper-hiss.
“Abigail, it’s fine.”
“Really? Because I don’t think so. And this is my job, Drake. I need the money.”
“Your job is fine. I told you I would never let anything happen to you.”
We stop in front of room 212. The patient is on contact precautions, so as soon as I walk through the door, I pull a gown off the cart and slip it on. Drake reaches for one as well, and I shake my head.
“No,” I whisper. “I don’t need you in here. I think right now it’s best if we’re not seen together.”
Drake flinches as though my words deliver an actual blow. He doesn’t say a word, just watches me don my mask and gloves, and then I slip around the privacy curtain.
Twenty minutes later, when I return to the hallway, he’s gone. Not that I expected him to still be standing there.
The rest of the shift is nonstop busy, which is a blessing, and not once do I catch another glimpse of Drake. Three discharges, two direct admits, and a code blue in room 236 keep me hopping, and I don’t have time to think about what happened earlier, let alone analyze it.
Four o’clock rolls around, and I collapse in a chair at the nurse’s station. Twelve-hour shifts don’t bother me, but today, my feet are on fire, and I’ve still got three hours to go.
“Abby.”
I’m so used to Drake calling me Abigail that the shortened version of my name almost sounds funny, which is why I’m laughing when I say, “Yeah?” And then I nearly choke when I see Cindy standing at the desk.
“Can you come with me?”
“Oh, uh, yeah.” I shut the chart and put it back on the rack. “If this is about Drake—”
“This isn’t a discussion we’ll be having at the nurse’s station, Ms. Darwin.”
Oh, hell. She used my last name.
Cindy turns on her heel and stops beside Farrah. “I’m going to need you to cover Abby’s pati
ents for a few minutes.”
Farrah nods, her eyes darting to mine. I look away and follow Cindy down two halls and a flight of stairs to a familiar room. It’s the room I came to for my four-hour orientation on my first day here. She opens the door, motioning for me to enter. The first thing I notice is the head of Human Resources—Sarah, I think her name is—perched at the end of a small conference table.
She’s wearing a crisp black pantsuit, and her red heels are crossed at the ankle. “Please, have a seat, Ms. Darwin.”
I turn, and that’s when my eyes land on the other person in the room.
Drake.
