Eric hid a smile. She ran the bases with a cocky gait.
At home, her teammates engulfed her. When he saw Sam wiggle into the mass of
cheering women, Eric laughed. Moments later, the petite, ebony-skinned catcher
for the nurses dragged Sam from the huddle.
“Simone, remember Eric.” Sam winked. “See you at the
buffet. Me and this woman’s got to talk about her attitude.” He gestured toward
the pitcher for the nurses. “Looks like you made an impression.”
He knew he had, but not the one he wanted. He strode
to first base, retrieved the beer and straightened.
She stood on the base. “I was safe, you know.”
“Really?” He raised the can to his lips without
lowering his gaze. The sweat-stained tee shirt hugged her ribs and clung to her
breasts. He swallowed a mouthful of warm, stale beer he hadn’t meant to drink
and caught the edge of a memory.
He knew her. Though their first meeting had lasted
less than an hour, he remembered her fire and determination. He’d watched her
ply every skill and trick she knew and he had stepped in to help. For a short
time, they’d been a team.
Before he had a chance to identify himself, a booming
voice ended the staring match. A hearty slap made him drop the beer. White foam
gathered on the grass.
“Getting into things already. Good idea.” The Board
president stepped around Eric. “Jenessa, you look good enough to start a dead
man’s heart. Two of you been introduced?”
“Not officially,” Eric said. The audible wheeze in
Bishop’s breathing made him wonder why the man was puffing on a cigar.
“Allow me. Jenessa Robertson, Eric Bradshaw.” Bishop
beamed. “Now, let me tell you, this little girl’s not as sweet as she looks.
She’s a rabble-rouser. Fights hard for the union.”
Sweet didn’t match Eric’s impression of her from the
past or today. Stubborn, courageous, a leader and much too attractive did.
Her hands moved to her hips. “It’s contract time, Mr.
Bishop.”
“Don’t be rushing into the fire, little girl. Eric
just arrived.”
“We’ve been on hold for months.”
The obese man’s teeth clamped on the cigar. “Stick to
nursing, little girl. When you have a seat on the Board, you can push.”
“We’re asking for one.”
“Already have a nurse. Your director has a seat.”
She made a face. “I mean a real nurse.” She turned and
jogged away.
“What?” If Bishop hadn’t grabbed Eric’s arm, he would
have followed her and demanded an explanation. The desire for a confrontation
rocked him.
Bishop laughed. “That’s one fine looking little girl.
Needs a man to blunt her claws.” He winked. “You interested?”
“What did she mean by a real nurse?”
“Seems she thinks only bedside nurses should have a
say in how the hospital’s run.” Bishop ground his cigar on the sun-browned
grass. “Girl’s a born leader.”
“Why isn’t she a nurse manager?”
Bishop lit another cigar and released a cloud of smoke.
“Would be like setting a mongoose in a cobra’s nest. Better idea would be for
you to feed the sparks jumping between you. Set her to thinking about a man not
a contract.”
Eric’s jaw tightened. He felt the same anger he’d felt
years before when he’d been a rookie cop and a smooth- talking drug dealer had
offered a bribe. “That’s not my style.”
“Why not? A good administrator is like ice applied to
a burn. The rule is—find the troublemakers and use any means to neutralize
them.”
Eric looked away. No matter how expedient, he wouldn’t
use attraction to gather information. “I’ll be busy then. There are a lot of
unhappy campers.”
Bishop laughed. “Long as they’re complaining, we don’t
have to worry.”
“Oh, there you are.” Sandra Wallace, the assistant
Director of Nursing, strolled toward them. She shifted her ever-present
briefcase to her right hand and grabbed Bishop’s arm. “Weren’t we meeting at
the buffet?”
Bishop’s meaty hand covered hers. “You missed the
game. The nurses won.”
She eyed Eric’s faded cut-offs. He felt like he’d been
examined by a fashion consultant and dismissed. “My aren’t you casual.”
“Not for a picnic.”
Her lips curled at the edges. “Appearance is always
vital. Have I interrupted something important?”
We were talking about Jenessa Robertson.”
As though brushing crumbs away, her hand fluttered.
“Watch her. She’s always stirring up trouble.”
“She seems to know a lot about the hospital’s
problems,” Eric said.
Sandra sneered. “She should. She enjoys causing them.”
Bishop laughed. “Girl’s always rooting like a goat in
the garbage dump.”
“Lobbied for us to hire floats.”
“So how much real trouble has she caused?” Eric asked.
“Organized the union. Fought for every point in the
contract,” Bishop said.
Sandra’s laughter rang hollow. “She has no respect for
authority. Threatened a sick-out. Even stormed a Board meeting to make demands.
Jim thinks she’s cute.”
“And dangerous.” Bishop waved the cigar. “Might offer
her a job.”
Eric moved away from the pair. “See you later.
Promised to meet Sam.” As he jogged away, a glimpse of red shorts and long legs
tempted him to change direction.
Moments later, still watching Jenessa Robertson, he
dropped to the ground beside Sam. Rushing into a situation he wasn’t sure he
could control made no sense. He swallowed a mouthful of the icy beer Sam handed
him. There would be other encounters with her. He smiled in anticipation.
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