Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Easy. I’m simply saying he was really mad. I thought he was gonna sleep on the couch, and I felt like shit.” Duke looked up at him, like he was sharing a big secret. “So the next day I took him some flowers to his office.”
“Flowers?” Quick reared back, surprised. Only women want that type of thing.
Duke’s cheek colored slightly but he kept his head up. “Yeah, man. Flowers. Nice ones from a florist, not from the damn 7-Eleven gas station. I brought him a dozen roses… yellow ones. Yellow means you care.”
“You know what flowers mean?”
“I wish I could add botanist to my repertoire, but no. The florist told me. All rose colors mean something.”
Quick grunted again, but he was paying attention.
“Maybe you should go there and ask her which ones mean ‘I screwed up my first shot but please give me another.’ If flowers are mostly for women, then there have got to be ones that mean that.” Duke laughed and Quick joined right in with him.
Touché.
Cayson
“Nania. How many times do I have to ask for the Jamirez file? Cayson let the intercom button go with a hard snap of his wrist, immediately regretting it. He shouldn’t be taking out his frustrations on his innocent nurse. She was surely moving as fast as Cayson could bark. And boy was he barking today. Had been all week.
“I apologize, Dr. Chauncey. Here you go. It was downstairs, since it’s over five years old, and they tried to stall me down in records.”
“I’m sorry too, Nania. I just…” Cayson removed his reading glasses and rubbed at the tiredness in his eyes. “…haven’t been sleeping well.”
Regardless of his lack of sleep, his surgery rotation was still very demanding. If he didn’t get himself under control, he was going to have to exclude himself from surgeries. It’d be the first time in ten years. The last time he’d had to be excused from seeing patients was when his mother died.
“Maybe you should take some of your vacation time, Doctor. I’ve been here six years and I’ve never seen you take a break, holiday, leave, or anything. It’s not healthy to be so consumed with—”
Cayson couldn’t hear any more of this, so as politely as he could, he cut into her concerns. “Nania. I think I’m good for the day. It’s after three. I’m sure your grandbabies would love to see you earlier than usual. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off?”
“Why don’t you, Doctor?” On that final note, she closed the door and left him alone in his large, silent office.
He researched the file he’d requested for about thirty minutes, his photographic memory immensely helpful in his efforts to get reacquainted with the old case. The Jamirez file was one of the many he was looking at to help him with a potential clinical trial he wanted to assist on. Anything that would consume his every waking hour. His personal cell phone buzzed on his hip with a text notification. He already knew who it was, since he didn’t get many calls.
How about you make me dinner tonight? Say 6ish. I’ll even be open to an apology if you get on your knees.
Cayson scowled when he read the text. Ugh, god. He wanted to smack himself. How could he let himself be used like he’d been doing? Joe came to him to get his rocks off and that was it. Oh yeah, and dinner. There was no love or sentiments. Cayson was his good time guy. The thought made him want to vomit. What had he done? He decided there and then that he was no longer being a doormat. If love came, then it came, but he was done looking for something that frankly just wasn’t in the stars for him.
He heard a soft knock on his door.
“Nania, I told you to go home,” Cayson yelled before he could stop himself.
The door eased open and when Cayson saw the tip of a black boot, he knew immediately it wasn’t his secretary. Quick’s head peeked around next. “I’m not Nania. There was no one out there, so I decided to just knock. Can I come in?”
Cayson sat there behind his desk, staring dumbfounded for a couple seconds, debating whether he should follow his new rule of not being a doormat and kick Quick out of his office and onto his beautiful, sexy ass. Of all the thoughts that swirled around in his mind, “What the hell are you doing here?” was what actually came out.
“I felt bad about the other night so I thought—”
“Thought what?” Cayson had to at least know why he was there. This was a little far to take a joke.
Quick finally stepped inside his office and Cayson immediately saw the large bouquet of orange roses in Quick’s other hand.