“Crap, crap, crap, crap,” I mutter to myself.
This is not the first impression I wanted to make. My first day on the job and I’m cutting it close. Not just any job, the position is a coveted one at the Hillcrest Clinic and I cannot afford to lose it. The Nurse Extern Program is extremely cutthroat and I have worked very hard for the opportunity to get this position. The generous pay and flexible hours mean I can stop working multiple jobs and finally get to do what I love to do, which is taking care of people. After successfully passing my boards I am officially Raeva Lindsey Ray, RN. I am very proud and pleased with all that my hard work has gotten me. The last two years of nursing school, combined with working multiple crappy jobs to make ends meet, have been hell. I really want to make a good impression at my new job, which is why I spent half the night studying up on my patient’s condition and brushing up on my tube feeding skills and knowledge regarding G-tube care. Hillcrest is an exclusive facility where each patient has their own dedicated healthcare team, so I’ll be specifically assigned to one patient at a time. Unfortunately, I fell asleep and I managed to forget to set my alarm. Luckily, I woke up when I did, but I am dangerously close to being late which is, as they told me yesterday during orientation, a very big no-no. I quickly grab my bag from the passenger seat of my beat-up Taurus and kick the door shut. I notice my appalling parking job but I am cutting it close so it will have to do. I am parked farther away than I’d like but beggars can’t be choosers. I all but full out run to the enormous building. I rush up the steps of the impressive structure and am about to knock when the door swings open, causing me to stumble onto my knees and drop my belongings. Embarrassment flushes over me and that feeling gets worse when I look up and gaze upon Margaret Sims, my new boss. She’s a very austere looking woman and it is very obvious that she is not amused.
“I am so sorry,” I manage to stammer.
The woman makes no attempt to help me and I instantly dislike her. As I gather my things I remind myself to act like a professional and manage a tight smile as I mutter another apology. Her brow arches.
“I certainly hope that this isn’t an indication of the competency we can expect from you,” she says.
Her icy tone almost renders me silent.
“No ma’am,” I almost whisper.
She doesn’t seem convinced judging from the malevolent stare she bestows upon me. “Follow me.”
She turns abruptly and stalks down the foyer past the reception desk and toward a regal staircase. I almost struggle to keep up. She opens the door to a hall closet that’s almost as big as my living room and kitchen combined.
“You may deposit your... ” her nose wrinkles as she looks at my admittedly old but still perfectly fine bag, “…belongings in here.”
What a lovely woman. She doesn’t even spare me a glance when she continues.
“Turn left when you reach the top of the stairs. Ms. Kingsley’s suite is the second door on your right. You should find everything you need in there.”
With that she turns and strides off, leaving me slightly stunned but mostly irritated. I seriously dislike that woman.
“Yeah, nice to meet you too,” I mutter under my breath.
I am really glad that she did not conduct my interviews or my orientation because I seriously doubt I would have gotten the position if it were up to Mrs. Sims. I take a short moment to compose myself and then swiftly hang my coat and bag in the closet before making my way upstairs. I gently knock on the door before I enter. The suite opens to a spacious sitting area. The walls are graced with what looks to be hand-painted silk wallpaper and the solid hardwood flooring has me resisting the urge to remove my shoes. The earthy tones in this room are calming and visually pleasing. It is hard not to be in awe of this room and its stunning decor. This definitely doesn’t look like a hospital room. I continue to walk to what I assume to be the bedroom; the door is wide open so I don’t even bother knocking. I immediately regret this decision as I witness a man tenderly kiss the forehead of my patient and whisper something against her temple. I instantly feel uncomfortable, almost like I am intruding. He stands straight and when he turns to face me I feel as though the wind is knocked out of me. Calling this man handsome would be an insult because there isn’t a word in the dictionary that would come close to being anywhere near accurate. My eyes lock onto a pair of devastatingly beautiful blue eyes. I attempt and fail to stifle the gasp that escapes my lips. For a moment I feel frozen, as if it is impossible for me to move a single muscle. My eyes flicker over his magnificent face and land on his mouth; his perfectly sculpted lips curl up into a lopsided smile and I notice a slight gap in his picture-perfect teeth. I find myself wondering what it would be like to kiss those perfect lips. With some difficulty I manage to tear my eyes away from his mouth and register his flawlessly styled dirty blond hair. As he takes a step toward me I snap back into reality and stumble backwards. I feel my cheeks heat up and I inwardly curse myself. Could my first impression be any worse?
“I... I… um… I apologize sir,” I stutter as I force myself to plaster a smile on my face.
He fastens the buttons of his perfectly cut designer suit jacket as he strides closer to me. When he stops in front of me he smiles brightly.
“You must be Ms. Ray. I’ve been expecting you. I’m Mika Kingsley,” he says, holding out his hand.
As my fingers clasp around his hand, something akin to the feeling of an electric current washes over me. I instantaneously crave his touch and want to feel his hands all over me. The intense feeling causes me to shudder as an unknown hunger awakens in every inch of my body. For a moment, I think that I see a flicker of surprise flash in his eyes, as if he felt it too, but I tell myself that I must have imagined it. It then dawns on me that my thoughts are wildly inappropriate and I double my efforts to pull myself together.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Kingsley. I am sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you… um... I knocked but... ” My voice trails off.
I feel scrutinized as he studies me intently. I feel like he knows exactly what kinds of things I am imagining inside my head and that thought alone causes my face to redden yet again. It’s only now that I notice that I am still holding his hand. I pull my hand back so quickly you would think I just burned myself. I cannot help but mourn the loss of his touch. What the hell Raeva?!?! GET IT TOGETHER, I tell myself. My eyes snap up to meet his and I note a trace of humor in his gaze.
“It’s quite all right, Ms. Ray.”
He flashes me a smile that evokes a tingling feeling in my belly.
“I was just saying goodbye; I need to head to my office.”
I simply smile and nod as I fight to find my equilibrium. He starts walking but stops and leans in as he comes up right beside me.
“It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Ray. I trust you’ll take good care of her.”
He winks at me as he continues to saunter out of sight. I let out the breath that I didn’t know I was holding.
“Holy shit,” I whisper to myself as I shake my head in an attempt to get myself together. I walk over to the bed to greet and assess my patient. Mikaela Kingsley is simply stunning and even now, lying unconscious in a bed, she looks flawless. Her long, sandy blond hair frames her perfectly symmetrical face beautifully. The poor thing has been in a coma for almost three weeks now. I am not really sure of the specifics but I do know that it was the result of some kind of tragic accident. As I rub my hands with hand sanitizer I introduce myself.
“Good morning, my name is Raeva Ray and I’ll be taking care of you today.”
I explain to her that I am starting off by taking her vital signs and then I move on to her morning bed bath. Throughout the entire process I continue to talk to her and what starts as me just telling her what I am doing gradually turns into me talking up a storm. Her extremities feel a little cold so I decide to give her a massage. I walk over to her bedside table to grab some oil when my eyes fall upon the picture that sits on top of it. I pick it up to take a closer look. The frame is beautiful, but it’s the image that grabs my attention. Right away I recognize the sinfully beautiful man who has his arm wrapped around Mikaela. I admire her unusually light brown eyes, the color almost golden, as they amplify her beauty and propels her into the exceptionally beguiling category. Seeing the two of them together smiling brightly, sun-kissed, and looking deliriously happy, has realization creeping to the forefront of my mind. Immediately I am disgusted with myself. I literally ogled another woman’s man with no shame. How did this not register with me until now? This certainly cannot happen again. How could anyone ever compare to her anyway? I ask myself. Certainly, not me. I have never liked the way I look, although I like my olive skin tone that I owe to the melting pot that is my genealogy. My dark, shoulder-length hair is usually worn up since it’s easier and I don’t know how to style it properly. My best friend Jill tells me that my expressive eyes are my best feature because they’re framed by long, thick lashes and the color is so dark brown they almost look black. I can almost hear her telling me this and I can’t help but grin at the thought of my best friend. We live together but we have both been so busy lately I feel like I’ve barely seen her. I put the frame back on the table and get the oil out of the drawer. I start with some range of motion exercises and spend a good hour on the massage. I’m washing my hands when there is a knock on the door.
“Come in!” I shout over my shoulder.
As I step out of the bathroom I come eye to eye with Mrs. Sims. She doesn’t look pleased and I cannot decide if she is just in a perpetual state of annoyance or if I bring this feeling out in her for some reason. Either way, I find it hard to imagine her smiling and my dislike for her seems to grow with every interaction.
“Mrs. Sims,” I say as brightly as I can muster up.
Of course, neither my bright tone, nor my super friendly fake smile are returned.
“Are you able to come in tomorrow? I know that you are not scheduled but Natalia called in, so obviously, I am desperate.”
I can hardly believe the unfriendly way or tone she is using to ask me for a favor! Were it not for the fact that I am very new and want to make a good impression, I would have refused her flat out. As it stands I really need this job and, no matter how much I dislike this woman, I love what I do. I smile sweetly and agree to come in and work the extra shift instead of telling her to go to hell. Her reaction shouldn’t surprise me, yet it does. She simply nods, turns on her heel and walks out without a word.
“Wow…pleasant woman, right?” I ask Mikaela as I approach her.
I glance at the clock and note that it’s not even eleven a.m. yet.
“Hmmmm… how about I read you a little something to pass the time?”
I walk over to the impressive book collection that lines one of the walls in the suite and, after studying the collection for a brief moment, pull out one of my all-time favorites: Little Women. I pull up in the chair beside Mikaela and gently place my hand on hers as I start to read to her.