A Sticky Situation (Awkward Love 7)

I change into my work clothes in record speed and then zoom back down to the living room to search for my keys. Lou tosses them to me and I smile at her gratefully.

“I’ll call you later,” I promise, racing out the door. “Lock the door when you leave.”Somehow, I’m only twenty minutes late for my shift at the Los Angeles Rehab Center, but what’s even more remarkable is that nobody seems to have noticed. Then again, I’m not even sure what shift I’m supposed to be filling in for. I look around for Luke but I can’t find him anywhere. He’s not even sitting on his ass in his office—where he usually is whenever anyone needs him.

As far as bosses go, Luke is the worst. He’s in charge of all the nursing staff at the clinic, which in his eyes, gives him the power to be a prick. He’s an ass to everyone, but especially to me. He’ll go out of his way to make my life difficult. I’m not sure what I’ve done to piss him off so much and I don’t really care.

Everything I do is wrong and if something isn’t right, he automatically blames me. Last month I was out for a week getting over the flu. An agency nurse mixed up two clients meds, resulting in a very high-profile newscaster ending up in the hospital with liver failure. Luke tried to get me fired over the incident. The look on his face when I reminded him I was out sick was priceless.

The difference between Luke and I is that I love my job. This is what I worked hard to achieve. I’m where I want to be. Luke isn’t where he wants to be. Nowhere near it. He’s a climber, which means he’s always looking for something better. Eventually he’s going to jump ship, so all I have to do is ride it out until then and hope my next boss is less of an ass. Which really wouldn’t be hard.

“Go wait in the staffroom,” his assistant, Macy, snaps when I try and chase him up. “I’ll have him come and find you.”

“Fine,” I say, giving her a tight smile.

I guess it takes an ass to be able to handle working for an ass.

I check my email on the walk to the staffroom, my heartrate spiking when I see one from the hotel. It’s not your usual ‘we value your feedback’ kind of email, either, because the subject line reads ‘Private and confidential; Hannah Billings.’

Part of me wants to delete the fuck out of it, but I’m too curious as to what it says. Maybe they found the dildo that I conveniently haven’t seen since my night at the hotel. I cringe as I imagine myself rifling through their lost and found box for my distinctive purple dildo. I click on the email and hold my breath as I read it.

Dear Ms. Billings,

First and foremost, I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for what happened last night. We strive to maintain the highest of standards at The Royal and checking a patron into the wrong room is not acceptable…

I briefly scan the rest of the email, snorting at the bit where they offer me a free night’s accommodation. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever be stepping foot back in that hotel. Did they figure out they’d checked me into the wrong room on their own, or did Brix say something, and if he said something, how much did he tell them?

After the dildo mishap, them knowing what else happened is all I need.

I close off my email as I walk into the staffroom, tucking it back into my pocket, and then I scan the room in search of a friendly face. I spot my friend Sasha over by the window. She waves me over, lifting one perfectly shaped eyebrow as I plonk myself down on the seat next to her. I sigh in response, my stomach still a churned up mass of anxiety.

“What’s up with you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so…” She pauses, searching for the right word.

“Disinterested?” I supply. “Defeated? Like I don’t want to be here?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding enthusiastically.

I shrug. “Probably because I don’t want to be here. Luke called me in, but now he’s nowhere to be found and nobody can tell me what I’m supposed to be doing.” I let out a dejected sigh. “I’m being paid to sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“You’re the only person I know who would complain about that,” she says, laughing. “Here. This will cheer you up.”

She tosses her phone at me, which I expertly juggle after nearly dropping the thing. Being the Android girl I am, I have no idea how to work her iPhone, so I end up clicking on an erectile disfunction advertisement, which I’m pretty sure isn’t what she’s all excited over.