AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What the hell did he mean by that? What kind of hospital didn't take appropriate steps to protect an unconscious patient’s privacy?
“What were you about to ask me, Tylar?”
“Oh, um, would you mind getting my hospital gown off the hook in the bathroom? I think I'd be more comfortable in it.”
“I’m sureyouwould, but I wouldn’t,” he teased.
I was about to give him a snotty retort, but he held up his hand warding off my response.
“I think I've got something here that will be comfortable and give you some modesty as well,” he said. He retrieved a shopping bag from the chair and placed it next to me on the bed, indicating for me to look inside. I opened it and removed a tissue-wrapped bundle. The tissue was sealed with the scrolled “VS” gold seal. I opened the seal and lifted a pink terrycloth bathrobe from the tissue. It was soft and fluffy as I rubbed it up against my cheek. There was a “VS” silk embroidered emblem on the front panel.
“Thank you. I totally love it,” I clutched it appreciatively.
“There’s more,” he said with amusement. “Keep going.”
I tilted the bag and found a matching pair of pink fluffy slippers inside, and another tissue-wrapped package at the bottom. I opened the package and pulled out a pink satin nightie. It had spaghetti straps and was full length, with a slit up one side to just above the knee. It was sexy yet soft and classy. There was also a pair of bikini panties that matched.
"These are beautiful,” I breathed, brushing the satin nightgown against my cheek. “Thank you, Trey.”
He was pleased that I was pleased. “Why don’t you change into them?” he suggested. Good thinking; however, there was no way I was parading my thonged ass past him to get to the bathroom. He realized my dilemma, but made no attempt to move. He cocked his eyebrow at me, sporting a devilish grin. It was then I realized the bed sheet had dropped to my lap. I was inadvertently presenting him with a view of my ready-to-spill-over breasts. Trey made no secret of perusing them.
“Do youmind?” I snapped, pulling the sheets up to my chin again. “Some privacy would be nice.”
Trey was still grinning like a cad, but finally stood up and sauntered to the door. “I’ll be back in three minutes, ready or not.”
I flew into action, knowing that he meant what he said. A couple of minutes later, fully dressed with my new robe cinched tightly around me, I climbed back into my hospital bed, stretching out on top of the covers. I finger combed my hair again nervously, pulling the shawl collar of the robe up so that my neck was covered.
In a few seconds Trey re-entered the room. He stopped short, giving me a frown when he saw that I was fully covered and safe from his bold stare and lingering perusal.
“Comfortable, Tylar?” he asked.
“Absolutely. You chose well and everything fits perfectly.”
“I’m glad,” he replied, “though I might’ve re-thought the robe in retrospect.
I gave him an angelic smile.
“Ok then,” he continued, “You and I need to discuss a few matters if you’re not too tired at the moment?”
“I’m fine,” I answered, “in fact, I feel almost back to normal. I bet I get released tomorrow.”
“Actually you were released today,” he said. “I insisted they keep you over at least another day or two so that arrangements can be made.”
What? How could he decide when I could leave the hospital? What arrangements was he talking about? I worried about how much these extra days would cost. “I’m not sure what you mean about arrangements, Trey.”
“Tylar, several of the staff members and I have attempted to reach your mother on the number listed in your personnel file. It's no longer a valid cell phone number. It could've been put into our computer system in error. I'd like for you to call her now please.”
“I've no problem calling my mom,” I replied, “but wouldn’t she be a little late to the party since I’m fine now?”
“My point is that your mother will probably want you to come home for a couple of weeks to fully recover. Any type of concussion can have lingering effects; it’s important to minimize the risk of further complications. Your work here with the horses is the type of risk I'm talking about.”
I cut him off abruptly. “So you’re firing me?”
“Calm down,” he warned. The edge in his voice told me he meant business. We'd so quickly gone from flirting to this. I wanted to rake my fingernails down his face and pictured myself doing so. It helped.
“You're not firedyet,” he responded slowly. “I'm simply concerned about your recovery. I guess I figured you'd want to be home with your family during your recuperation. You can't return to work at any rate until a doctor clears you.”
“First off,” I croaked, my Demi Moore voice was back. “My family is just my mom. It’s always been just Mom and me.”
