Page 13 of Private Exhibit
Devon whirled around and saw the double doors opening as an empty gurney was pushed out into the hallway. A nurse rolled the gurney into the elevator car and disappeared from sight.
“Nope,” Oliver gasped. “Uh-uh. I'm out.” A visible shudder ran through him, and he took a step away. “I'll wait for you upstairs,” he blurted out in a rush, barely glancing at Devon as he dashed for the elevator, only to stop short, hesitate, then whirl around. Oliver practically ran for the stairwell at the other end of the hallway.
Devon winced as the stairwell door closed.Poor Oli. He rocked where he stood, then realized what he was doing and forced himself to stop. Devon took a deep breath and blew it out heavily.Alright. You can do this. He strode over to the morgue office and paused. The door was shut, and Devon could just make out two voices inside: one higher-pitched and chipper, while the other was deep and gruff. Devon looked around. There was nowhere to sit, so he pressed his back to the wall directly across from the door and settled in to wait.
Barely a minute later, the door flew open. The overhead lights started flickering as a young man strode out of the office in a hurry, muttering under his breath, “Prick.”
Devon stared. He couldn't help it. If he thought Hayden Ross was beautiful, this guy was on a whole other level. Where Hayden had a sexy, sinful allure, this one had an ethereal beauty that simply took one's breath away. Flawless skin. Shiny, golden curls. An angelic face. Devon squirmed, feeling wholly inadequate by comparison.
The young man gave a start at the sight of him, then smiled wryly. He took a slow, deep breath, and the lights went back to normal. “Sorry about that,” he said, gesturing at the ceiling. “I have a hard time controlling my power when I get all workedup.” Before Devon could ask what he meant, the young man went on, “You here to interview?”
Devon nodded.
“Well, good luck. He's all yours. The girl who interviewed before me? She came out in tears, and now I know why. And I really need a job. Well, second job. Although, technically, third job, though I'm not supposed to talk about the second one, and I probably shouldn't have even said that much,” the young man went on with a laugh, “but not if the boss is gonna be a total asshole, you know what I mean?”
From inside the office, a gruff voice barked out, “Are you here to interview?”
Devon winced.Oh gods. What had he gotten himself into?
The beautiful young man rolled his eyes and repeated, “Good luck.” He strode away, leaving the door standing wide open, giving Devon a clear view into the room.
“I'm waiting,” the gruff voice added.
Devon gave a start, then let out a shaky breath and walked into the room, looking down at the floor as he went.Look up. Look up. You can do it. Devon slowly forced his gaze up, intending to make himself hold eye-contact, no matter how uncomfortable it was.
The first thing he noticed was the chaos. He could hardly even see the desk itself for all the files and tablets strewn across the surface. Devon shuddered.Gods. He itched to straighten them all. To organize them. It took everything he had to keep his hands at his sides rather than reaching out. Bracing himself, he forced his gaze up beyond the mess, hoping he'd be able to focus.
He stopped with a squeak of surprise when he saw who was sitting behind the desk. The man wore scrubs, completely changing the context of him in Devon's mind, but the face was unmistakable. It was one that Devon would never forget as long as his soul existed. That sense of familiarity teased him again,but Devon still couldn't place him. Just seeing him there was simply too much.
“Oh my gods,” Devon gasped, feeling his cheeks start to burn.
The man blinked, then slowly looked up at him, the frown vanishing from his face as his eyes went wide. “You,” he whispered, staring at Devon.
Devon gulped.Holy shit. It was the man from the club. What the hells were the chances? Was it coincidence or fate? Devon shook his head. He'd had a lot of that in his life. Especially recently.
The man kept staring at him. “I thought I'd never see you again.”
Devon's breath caught. “You–” he began, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Youwantedto see me?”
“Like you wouldn't believe–”
“Knock knock,” someone called, stepping into the office. Devon gave a start and whirled around to find a man wearing an expensive suit. “Sorry to interrupt,” he told Devon, then turned to the man behind the desk. “Doctor Gerard. Just thought I'd come see how things were going. Mind if I sit in?”
Devon frowned.Doctor Gerard?Something about that name felt important, but he couldn't figure out why, too overwhelmed by the sight of the man from the club. By the intense memory of what they'd shared.
Dr. Gerard gave the newcomer a blank stare of annoyance. “Like I could stop you.”
The other man replied with a wry smile, then turned to Devon and quickly shook his hand. “Harel Bokin. I own the hospital.”
“Um.” Devon tried to force the puzzle aside and focus on the moment.One thing at a time. You don't have to thinkabout anything else right now. Just get through this. “Devon Campbell.”
“Please,” Mr. Bokin said, gesturing at the chairs in front of the desk.
Devon slowly sat, glancing from Dr. Gerard to Mr. Bokin and back.
A long, awkward silence passed. The doctor scowled at his boss, then turned and looked at something over Devon's right shoulder. He pressed his lips together as though fighting the urge to laugh, then cleared his throat and focused on Devon.
“Right. So.” Dr. Gerard looked down, jabbed uselessly at a tablet, then shoved the device aside with a huff before looking back up. “Sorry. I'm still trying to figure out how to ID that guy from yesterday,” he said, hooking a thumb towards an open doorway that led into the surgical suite. “Uh–”
