Dating Impossible (12 page)
Authors: Kathleen Grieve
“I’m Dr. Daryl Smythe. I’m one of the pharmacists here.” He
glanced around quickly and then at the manila file clutched in his hands. “Is
there somewhere private we can talk?”
Unease skittered along her spine. She had a weird sense of
déjà vu. “Sure. There’s a doctor’s consultation room just down the hall here.”
They entered the brightly painted room with plush chairs and
a conference table centered in the middle. JJ took a seat at the table and
Doctor Smythe sat across from her. JJ wiped her damp palms on her scrub pants.
He cleared his throat. “Ah, I’m sure this is nothing,” he
began and pulled out documents from the folder and spread them before JJ on the
table. “But whenever there is an incident such as this, hospital policy required
that we investigate. Is this your signature, Dr. Jones?”
JJ leaned forward and examined the patient records in front
of her. They were physician orders sheets with verbal orders taken from her
that she had signed off on. “Yes,” JJ replied, glad her voice remained steady.
Flashbacks of the interrogations she’d been subjected to at
Her heart rate accelerated a few notches. “Why?”
“Well, there is no order for morphine for this patient. There
is no documentation that morphine was ever administered although the drug was
removed several times from the Pyxis under this patient’s name in ten milligram
increments. Can you explain that?” he asked.
His tone was polite, non-accusatory. JJ exhaled a pent up
breath she’d been unaware she’d been holding. She paged through the chart from
the beginning. A frown creased her brow as she recalled the details of this
patient’s particular case. She closed the file, pushed it back across the table,
and folded her hands in front of her.
“Sure,” she began, “I remember this patient. If you’ve
looked through the file, which I’m sure you have, then you would know that
morphine was not ordered because the patient was allergic to that medication. The
reaction morphine would’ve caused was anaphylaxis. He was given fentanyl for
his pain instead.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. The fentanyl is
clearly documented. If morphine was pulled from the med machine by mistake, it
should’ve been either wasted or returned per policy. ”
“Exactly,” he agreed. The fluorescent lights glinted off his
shiny head as he nodded.
JJ’s unease escalated. “So, what is it that you needed from
me exactly? I’m sure nursing took care of that.”
“Nursing?” Surprise lit up his face. “Nursing never pulled
the morphine, Dr. Jones. You did. I’m sure you probably just forgot to waste
the meds once you realized you would need to use a different drug.” He slid a
narcotic reconciliation form across the table into her field of vision. “Now,
if you just write where and how the meds were wasted and tell me the name of
your witness—RN or physician—we can clear this matter up quickly.”
JJ’s head reeled. She sat immobilized, her throat
constricting. Painful memories of previous accusations of stolen narcotics
assaulted her. How could this be happening all over again? Were the forces of
Karma at work just because she’d become involved with a co-worker?
Sweet Jesus! What
the fuck is happening here?
“B-but, Dr. Smythe,” JJ said, “I don’t understand. I never
removed morphine from the Pyxis for this patient. A patient’s allergies are
among the first things I review before administering any medications.”
He frowned and removed another document from the never-ending
file he had in front of him. “I thought you said you remembered this patient? My
narcotic report clearly states that you, Dr. Jones, not nursing, removed a
total of”—he squinted at the paper in front of him— “fifty milligrams of
morphine. That’s five ten-milligram vials. This is your Pyxis login and
password, is it not?” He handed her the report.
With a shaky hand she grasped it and stared at the black ink
until the lines blurred. The evidence staring her in the face brooked no
argument, but she hadn’t done this. JJ inhaled a calming breath and returned
the paper. “I am sorry, Dr. Smythe. There must be some mistake. I never removed
any narcotics. Clearly, someone has access to my password. I will need to
change it immediately.” She stood and the chair legs scraped across the
linoleum tiles producing a screeching sound. “You will need to investigate
further and find out who is responsible for this. I will not have my name
slandered.”
Confusion etched his features. “The report doesn’t lie, Dr.
Jones. Just explain what happened to the morphine and we can lay this matter to
rest.”
“Well, if I could, I would. Fact is, I never removed the
meds,” she repeated. “I don’t know who did,” JJ said, hating the defensive tone
that crept into her voice.
Dr. Smythe stood as well. His demeanor became brusque and businesslike
all of a sudden. “Well, I am sorry to hear this, Dr. Jones. You will, of
course, head down to occupational health and submit a mandatory drug test now.”
“I’d be happy to,” she replied. “And I’m sure you will do
your job and find out who is responsible for the missing narcotics.”
With heavy heart and lead feet, she swept past him with a
nonchalance she didn’t feel. The mandatory drug testing didn’t bother her. She
knew she’d pass without any problems. No, what bothered JJ most was the fact
that once again someone had marked a large X on her back like a target and was
trying to ruin her life. But who? And why? She’d been forced to flee from a
life she’d loved and she’d be damned if she’d let anyone create chaos and
devastate her life once again.
Chapter
Fourteen
Cruz saw JJ storm through PGH’s doors and out to the parking
lot. Her stride so brisk, he literally chased her down. He sped up into an easy
jog. “JJ! Wait!” he shouted from several yards away. He caught up with her as
she straddled her Harley.
Her black helmet stopped in mid-air as she turned her head
his direction. His breath came in short pants as he closed the distance. JJ’s
pale green gaze landed on his Franco Fortini leather loafers.
“Not exactly the shoes to be running in,” she said with an
upward tilt of her lips. “Did you need something, boss?”
Boss?
Cruz grimaced.
Is that what JJ now thought of him? As just her boss? Fuck! His ship was
sinking fast. He stared into her face. Saw the lines of strain and worry etched
into her features and forgot about himself. He cupped her cheek. “What’s wrong,
sweetheart?”
Anger sparked in her eyes and she jerked away from his hand.
“As if you don’t already know, being the
boss
and all…” The helmet came down over her unruly tresses and she latched the chin
strap. “And don’t call me sweetheart. I’m not your sweetheart or anyone
else’s.”
“Whoa!” Cruz grasped her wrist before she could close the
visor. “Seriously, JJ. Take a minute. Tell me what’s pissed you off.”
“Are you telling me that as director of Emergency Services,
you don’t know that I was just accused of stealing narcotics from the Pyxis and
had to submit to a random drug test?” she said. Large eyes looked back at him
with disbelief. “Bullshit.”
“What?” Cruz’s own anger surged as he let her wrist go and
raked his hand through his hair. “When did this happen? JJ, I’ve been stuck in
administrative meeting hell today. I haven’t been to my office or checked
emails or voicemails. I had no idea, but I’m going to get to the bottom of this.
There’s no way you did that.”
JJ’s gaze softened. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“For what?” he asked.
“For believing in me,” she answered. “Not long ago—” She shook
her head. “Never mind.”
Christ! Why
won’t she trust me? Let me in just a little bit?
“JJ,” he said softly. He took a step closer, and his thigh
brushed her knee. Heat seeped from her jeans into his trousers. His cock
twitched and his blood hummed with anticipation. “Let me go to my office and
look into this matter. Talk about it over dinner?”
Desire flashed in her eyes and her lips parted. A small
groan escaped as she pressed her palm flat on his chest and pushed him away
slightly before her fingers curled around the silk of his tie and she tugged
him toward her. “Cruz…”
“Yes?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
She laughed, a deep, sultry sound of pure sex, and his cock
hardened, standing at full attention.
“You’re making it impossible for me to keep things on a
strictly professional level here,” she said. “Which is where things need to stay
between us.”
Regret laced her words and hope soared deep within his
breast. “It’s settled then. I’ll bring take-out,” he said, ignoring her last
words. “Your place or mine?”
JJ rolled her eyes heavenward and shook her head. “Neither.”
She started her Harley and revved the engine. “I need a hot bath, a cold beer,
and time to think.”
With that, she kicked the stand on her bike, forcing Cruz to
take a few steps back, and eased from her parking spot, leaving him alone. If
JJ thought that was enough to defeat him, she had another think coming.
Him impossible?
JJ hadn’t seen
impossible yet. Guess it was her place then.
****
Cruz stood on JJ’s doorstep and rang the bell. The smell of
spicy Thai food wafted around him from the bags he held while he waited. And waited.
He frowned and knocked on the hard cherry-wood door as well as pressed the
doorbell several times. More minutes passed and still no answer. Lights shone
through the crack between the closed curtains of her living room. She had to be
home. Worry slithered along his spine. Why wasn’t she answering? Was she okay?
Juggling the takeout bags and the bottle of wine, he yanked
out his cell phone. From his lists of favorites, he pressed JJ’s name and
waited. A pre-recorded message answered as his call went straight to voicemail.
Fear laced his veins.
That’s it!
Cruz shoved
his cell back into his pocket and grasped the door handle. The knob twisted
with ease and the door swung open. “JJ?” he called and stepped over the
threshold into the large open living space.
Cruz heard music from somewhere down the hall. He laid the
Thai take-out on the counters in the kitchen along with the bottle of wine, and
followed the soft strains of Sheryl Crow’s “Run, Baby, Run.” The closer he came
to the source, the better he was able to hear JJ’s out-of-tune voice singing
along. Relief soared through him. She was okay.
“
God, I feel like hell tonight... tears of
rage I cannot fight...
”
He entered JJ’s bedroom. Her clothes were scattered from the
doorway to the open bathroom door. He followed the trail…leather boots…designer
jeans…cashmere sweater…sheer, hot pink thong and matching bra. An unfathomable
desire overtook him. He wanted to be able to come home every night to a woman. Not
just any woman. Home to little Josephina Jo. Was this what his brother Jett had
with Roxanne? A sense of peace mixed in with a spicy bit of pleasure that
seemed boundless?
At the doorway to the bathroom, Cruz leaned his shoulder on
the doorjamb and absorbed the scene before him. JJ lay in the middle of an
oversized tub filled with bubbles. The fragrant scent of roses filled his
nostrils. She held a beer to her plump lips and sang into the bottle like a
microphone. Water sloshed over the edge and onto the tiled floor as her hips
swayed to the music. Her taut pink nipples played peek-a-boo through the sudsy
water. A tempest storm of desire flooded his veins and his cock bulged against
the fabric of his pants.
“
I'd be the last
to help you understand...Are
you strong enough to be my man
…”
Just as she sang the last words her head turned to where he
stood. Those amazing pale green eyes widened and she screamed, jumping straight
up. Soapy water splashed onto the floor and made its way over to his shoes. Feet
glued to the tiled floor, Cruz’s mouth dropped open as he openly appreciated
the way the suds and water droplets slowly slid downward revealing all her
lickable parts.
“What the fuck, Cruz!” she yelled and stepped over the rim
of the tub onto the small bath rug that was now soaked. “You scared the living
shit out of me.”
She set the beer bottle down onto the nearby counter and
yanked a fluffy terry cloth towel from the rack above the toilet. JJ wrapped
the towel around her delicious body and tucked the ends of the cloth between
the folds of her cleavage. And just like that, all those lovely curves were
wrapped up away from his view.
Words failed him. Part of him felt like a voyeur marching
into her house without being invited in, but the other part of him knew that
she was essential. Essential to his own health and well-being. Like exercising,
eating right, and breathing. Without JJ, he wouldn’t be able to thrive, grow,
and love.
Cruz held up his hands in surrender, silently begging for
mercy. Propelled forward by his need for this one woman, he closed the short distance
between them and reached for the loose ends between her fabulous breasts. With
one hand, he loosened the towel and it dropped to the wet tile at their feet.
With his other he cupped her cheek.
