Page 65 of Fourteen of a Kind

“Aunt Dorinda, she’s just a girl I met.”

“I hope you remember the rules, darling.”

“I do.” I sighed. “Is there a reason you called?”

“I’m having a charity fundraiser next month and would like you to be there.”

“I can’t. My work schedule is crazy.”

“I’m giving you enough notice to take off, Graham.”

“I’m new to the program, Aunt Dorinda. How would it look if I asked for time off already?”

“Very well.”

“Listen. I’m really tired, and I know it’s very late in New York. You should get some sleep.”

“I will once I’m done reviewing my notes for court tomorrow. Sleep well, darling.”

“You too.”

A loud boom rattled me. Once again, my heart raced faster than the speed of light, and I broke into sweat. I turned the shower on, stepped in, and let the hot water beat down me, trying to drown out the sounds. I wasn’t feeling well, so I sat on the floor in the corner and hugged my knees, burying my head between my legs. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity. Climbing out, I grabbed the bottle of pills from my nightstand and shook one in my hand. Taking it to the living room, I poured another scotch and chased the pill down the back of my throat. Finishing my drink in one gulp, I set the glass down and climbed into bed. I thought about Ella. Soon, more questions about my childhood would surface, and I’d have to lie to her, which was the last thing I wanted to do. I was already lying to her, and it needed to stop. But the only way it would was if I stopped seeing her. The problem was the connection I felt. She quickly became special to me, which was something I hadn’t planned when I moved here. Two years. Work. Work. Work. All I had to do was focus on my job and training and get on with my life back in New York. Coming here was a mistake. I thought I could handle it. I was dead wrong.

CHAPTER 20

Ella

Graham’s outburst about the fireworks had me concerned. But what concerned me more were the pills I found in his bathroom. That drug was used to treat sleep disturbances in patients with PTSD. He would have known I’d know that, but he kept his explanation short.

My brain was fried from the day, and all I wanted was some sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Graham and my grandmother. I tossed and turned. Thoughts about both of them plagued me. I wanted to ask Graham why he lied to me about not living in California as a child, but after his outburst over the fireworks, I felt it wasn’t a good time.

My alarm went off. Grabbing my phone, I shut it off. Fuck. I’d barely slept all night—maybe two hours at best. Stumbling into the bathroom, I turned on the shower and poured some eucalyptus essential oil under the steam. It always helped to wake me up. After dressing, I grabbed my purse and bag and headed to the hospital.

“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” I smiled, walking into pre-op.

“Morning, Dr. Kind.”

I checked his vitals. “Are you ready for your by-pass?”

“Yep. I sure am.”

“Good. I’m going to scrub in, and I’ll see you shortly.” I smiled.

“You’re very pretty, Dr. Kind.”

“Thank you, Mr. Riley. I’ll see you soon.”

I went into the scrub room and began scrubbing in.

“Dr. Kind?” Linda, the nurse anesthetist, poked her head in.

“Yeah, Linda?”

“We have to cancel Mr. Riley’s surgery.”

“What? Why?” My brows furrowed.

“He’s been eating hot tamales since he arrived.”

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