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CHAPTER FIVE
Simmi
“Shit a brick!” I grab a clean dishcloth and hold it under the cold water tap before dabbing the area where I spilled my mocha. This is the last clean work blouse I have in my wardrobe. Washing gets done on a Saturday. Except I didn’t get around to doing it this weekend now, did I?
Mom spent all of Sunday sleeping like a hung-over angel in my bed, then ruined my afternoon by whining to me about how shit my father is. She’s not lying. He is shit, but so is Mom. The pairs’ only quality as a couple is bringing out the worst in each other. And FYI, she’s back home. They made up. Again.
I glance at my wrist. The white digital numbers in the corner of the square face hovering above my butterfly screen saver run a river of fear down my spine. Seven-forty-five!
Bloody hell!
I grab my bag, charger, and phone, slamming the sliding door of my tiny wooden beachside cabin behind me.
“Hey baby, have a great day!” Mom yells from their balcony.
“Oh Jim, stop that. We have guests.” Her voice rises a few octaves as my dad’s faux lion roar echoes across the way.
Ew. Yuck.
Can’t they just keep it to the bedroom? I mean like seriously, by tomorrow they’ll hate each other again. Why can’t they just get divorced already? I glance over my shoulder to see my dad throw my mom over his shoulder and stumble inside. No child should ever have to see that.
I sprint to my car. It takes me five minutes of supercars driving, sharp cornering, and handbrake turns before I pull up to my parking spot at the back of the clinic.
“Oh, thank fuck.” I sigh when I see that besides Myrtle, our clinic manager, Jay hasn’t arrived yet.
This is good. I’m not sure I can face him after Saturday night. He saw a part of my life I didn’t want seen.
I scan the area after closing and locking the car door. I can go in, sort out my patient list, grab what I need and head out before he arrives. If I time my work life right, I can miss running in to him the whole week.
I push through the back entrance and trot down the passageway to the front desk.
“Well, good morning to you, too.”
Myrtle smiles as I rush in and open one of two computers at the reception desk.
“Oh hi.” I type in my password and open the files I need. “Shit. It won’t print.”
Myrtle leans across and maneuvers the mouse.
The printer whines and ejects pages from its side. Myrtle smiles.
“You have time. Why the rush?”
Something in her voice causes me to pause. I know half the town suspects there’s something between the new doctor and me, but they’re wrong. At least I want them to believe they’re wrong. Because dammit, they are. It’s over between Jay and me. He’s my boss and our relationship will revert to one of professionalism and cold dislike. Just as it should be.
“Have a good weekend?” I huff as I click the mouse, slower and gentler this time, and open the next lot of files.
“Hmm, fine,” Myrtle says. “Doris mentioned there was another party on the beach Saturday night. Said she heard our very own Doctor Hot stuff was there too.”
Myrtle’s tone takes on that all-knowing pitch and I try not to be irritated by her or the fact that local gossip monger, Doris Dorsett has had something to say about it all. Again.
I like Myrtle. She’s damn good at her job, kind, but has a sharp side that can cut deep if you’re not careful.
“But I’m sure you already know that.”
“Wasn’t at the party long. Didn’t see him,” I say and click print.
She gives me a look that tells me she knows I’m talking shit.
