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Authors: LaConnie Taylor-Jones

When a Man Loves a Woman (Indigo) (8 page)

BOOK: When a Man Loves a Woman (Indigo)
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K-Mart nudged A.J in the side. “Doc, come on and let me hire Vic to head up my public health department.”

A.J. polished off the rest of his Perrier. “You ask her. If she wants to work for you, it’s her call.”

They all stood and chatted for a few more moments until K-Mart looked across the room, which was filled to capacity, and spewed out the champagne he’d just taken a sip of. “Doc, doc…nine o’clock to your right.”

A.J. looked over to see Vic, Tara, Chandler, and another woman he assumed was with one of the foundations standing near the entrance to the living room. “What’s wrong?”

“Who’s the one standing on Vic’s left who looks like Tyra Banks’s twin?” K-Mart whispered.

“Uh, what did you say?” A.J. muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on Vic.

“Come on, doc,” K-Mart whined. “Who is she?” Frustrated, he turned to Ray as he straightened his tie and brushed the lapels of his tuxedo jacket. “Do you know who she is?”

Ray glanced in the direction K-Mart pointed out. “Oh, man, that’s just Chandler. She and Honey went to Columbia together.” He curved his hands to form the shape of an hourglass. “I’m trying to check out J. Lo’s baby sister standing next to her.
Daaayuuum
, she’s fine.”

A.J. cleared his throat. “Ray, don’t mess up what Honey’s doing tonight with your womanizing.”

“Settle down,
mon frère
,” Ray answered, grinning. “I’ll keep everything on the DL if the sista is with one of the foundations. And if she is, betcha I talk her into giving that last million Honey needs.” Then he opened up his arms. “But now if girlfriend there wanna tack a little somethin’, somethin’ on the end, you know, what can I say?”

“Ray, I’m warning you,” A.J. chided.

Ray inclined his head. “Come on, man.” He beckoned K-Mart with his hand. “I suggest we move on over to the feeding trough.” Peering over a pair of rose-tinted Dior glasses, he stepped forward and stopped mid-stride. “
Daaayuuum
, J. Lo is fine.”

* * *

“Vic, Vic,” Chandler uttered breathlessly. “Twelve o’clock coming in for a landing.”

Vic looked up and saw Ray and K-Mart heading toward them. “Down, girl. It’s just Baptiste’s best friend, K-Mart. They went to medical school together.”

“K-who?” Chandler smoothed down the front of her dress.

Vic chuckled. “Kevin Martin Bullock, but we call him K-Mart.”

Chandler cupped both hands to her mouth and released two quick breaths. “A-okay.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and waited. “Midnight black, tall, fine…oh, sweet Jesus. Houston, we have landed.”

She grabbed Vic’s arm. “Girl, I need an all-aboard announcement.”

Vic reached up and gently closed Chandler’s mouth. “Pull up your landing gear, child, you’re drooling down the front of your dress.”

“Ladies.” K-Mart approached first and nodded at Vic and Tara. His gaze quickly shifted to Chandler.

Vic held her hand out to Chandler. “K-Mart, Chandler Perkins, Ph.D.” Glancing back over at Chandler, who was running her tongue along her lips, she said, “Chandler, Kevin—”

In a sultry tone, Chandler slid up to K-Mart, extending her hand. “Well, how
do
you do?”

Smiling, Vic turned to tell Tara something, but she’d disappeared. She had to rotate a full circle before she saw her friend by the bar wrapped around Lincoln’s arm like a rubber band. The hushed snickering from behind made her glance over her shoulder to find the tall, long-legged CEO who’d had a stoic expression all evening standing in a corner with Ray, grinning from ear-to-ear at whatever he was whispering to her.

A.J. walked up behind Vic unnoticed and snuggled his lips next to her ear. “You did a fantastic job tonight, Honey.” He kissed the side of her neck. “
Merci, mon amour
.”

Vic turned to face him, pleased he was happy with her efforts. “Baptiste, thank you for letting me do this for you. I know how much the clinic means to you.” She placed her hand over her mouth to hide her yawn.

“Tired?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and fluttered his lips along the space between her neck and shoulder.

Vic was exhausted, but not so much that she was unaffected by his touch. At that moment, she knew they probably looked scandalous to anyone who happened to walk by. Baptiste had pulled her in front of him, his hardness rubbing against her belly. The sensations of his moustache lightly scraping against her skin sent sparks of carnal pleasure from her head to her toes. With her head thrown back, she released a moan of pure contentment.

He slid his hands down her arm, and laced their fingers together. “Since you’re the hostess, the sooner we can get everyone out of here, the sooner we can go home.”

“You work the right side of the room. I’ll get the left.”

Chapter 8

On Monday morning, Vic walked through the waiting area at the East Oakland Health Clinic and noticed a young woman slumped over in a chair groaning in pain.

“Somebody better come up with a real good explanation for why a patient needing medical services hasn’t been seen yet.”

Rushing over, Vic gently tilted the slender girl’s head back. “Jesus, have mercy,” she uttered softly, staring at the badly battered face that looked like someone had mistaken it for a punching bag.

The girl groaned weakly. “Help…me…please.”

“Easy now, sweetie.” Vic rested the girl’s head against the back of the chair. “Have you been here long?”

The swelling around the young woman’s mouth made it difficult for her to say any more than what she’d already managed to utter.

“Harrison…Louise,” Vic yelled over her shoulder.

Vic continued to hold the girl’s hand, assuring her everything was going to be fine. Since Baptiste was attending a medical conference in San Francisco, she was grateful Harrison and Louise, who’d agreed to volunteer one day a week at the clinic, were there.

Harrison and Louise raced down the hallway, and after Harrison quickly assessed the girl’s injuries, he lifted her slender body in his arms.

Harrison turned to his mother. “What exam room is empty?”

Louise pointed down the hall. “Just cleared Room Two.”

“Let’s go, people,” Harrison ordered without hesitation.

Louise scurried down the corridor behind Harrison just as Vic looked up to see another nurse round the corner. “Cover me for a minute.”

Vic bolted to the front desk. “Chanta, have you seen Jenkins and Goldberg?”

Chanta, the clinic’s part-time receptionist, was a high school student whom Vic had met at the after-school program at the East Oakland Youth Center where she and Baptiste worked as mentors.

Chanta nodded and pointed straight ahead. “I saw them head to the lounge about ten minutes ago.”

Vic raced off to the room at the rear of the clinic. She flung the door open and found the nurses who were supposed to be covering the patient intake station with their feet propped up on a table, sipping coffee. “Jenkins…Goldberg, why is there a patient who obviously needs emergency medical treatment sitting in the waiting area?”

Jenkins, the blonde-haired nurse, shrugged nonchalantly. “She should’ve gone to a hospital. This is a clinic.”

Vic narrowed her eyes in fury and slammed the door. “Oh, now I know you didn’t just say that.”

Jenkins nodded. “Oh, but I did.”

Vic walked closer to the couch where the two nurses sat. “Let me tell you one thing. Everybody who walks through our doors is a human being and deserves the best we can give them. Are we clear?”

Goldberg glanced over at Jenkins and tried to offer an explanation. “V-Vic, we’re sorry. But it’s like Jenkins said, we don’t offer emergency services here—”

“I know that, but you stabilize them and get them
to
emergency, Goldberg. That’s Nursing 101.”

Jenkins glanced at her watch. “It was time for our break anyway.”

“Break?” Vic bellowed. “A break is for folks who work, and from what I’m seeing, the two of y’all ain’t doing a good job at that.”

Goldberg stood to her feet. “Now, you wait—”

“Wait?” Vic cried out incredulously. “Oh, no, I’m not waiting for anything. I’m about two seconds from throwing both of your behinds outta here
and
reporting ya to the State Board of Nursing.”

“You wouldn’t do that, now would you?” Jenkins taunted, settling more comfortably on the couch.

Vic rolled her head on her shoulders, walked over to an empty desk, and picked up the phone. “You know what? I can show you better than I can tell you.”

Goldberg raced over to Vic. “W-Who are you calling?”

“I told you who I was gonna call.” It wasn’t the first time in Vic’s career as a nursing administrator that she’d had to make the call, and she knew the number from memory. She turned her back the two nurses and listened to the first ring of the state agency located in Sacramento.

“W-We could lose our licenses,” Goldberg angrily blurted.

Vic nodded without turning around. “Exactly.”

After reporting the incident, Vic placed the phone back on the base, walked to the door, and whirled around. “Break’s over, and so are the two of you. You’re fired.”

“Bitch,” Jenkins whispered under her breath just as Vic placed her hand on the doorknob.

Vic heard the comment and pivoted back around. She took in a deep, shuddering breath to control her anger. “That’s right, Jenkins. I’m the
bitch
who’s running this nursing staff right now. I’m also the
bitch
who’ll decide if you ever draw another paycheck as a nurse to pay the rent and car note when it rolls due. But most of all, I’m the
bitch
who’s spent the last fifteen years taking care of patients, not dumping ’em like you two just did.” She tossed her thumb over her shoulder. “This clinic is open to serve folks, and that child deserved better than what she got from the two of you. I want both of you outta here. Now!”

Without another word, Vic stormed out, slamming the door.

* * *

It was around two in the afternoon and A.J. had decided to leave the conference early. He sat behind his desk at the health clinic with the phone cradle between his neck and shoulder. “Ray, I need a favor from you.”

“Talk to me,” Ray chuckled, then rushed on to add, “don’t tell me you and Honey are fighting again? Do ya’ll need to go somewhere and make up?”

A.J. smiled to himself. He liked making Vic lose her temper. In a basic way, it was electrifying to watch those pretty light-brown eyes narrow and her back arch like a hissing feline poised to fight. In the past ten months, he’d learned much about her personality that way. He’d also figured out exactly what someone would have to do to bring the volatility in her personality to the forefront. One day soon, he planned to provoke her to anger and then love her out of her rage. “Soon,
mon frère
, soon.”

Then, he explained to Ray the medical emergency involving the injured girl who came to the clinic earlier that morning. If Ray could pick up Taylor and Tyler from preschool at four o’clock, after the clinic closed he and Vic could head over to Highland Hospital to check on her condition before heading home.

“Look here,
mon frère
,” Ray teased. “How long will I be on kiddie lockdown with them future residents at San Quentin?”

A.J. chuckled out loud. “What’s wrong, Ray? Don’t tell me you’re scared of two four-year-olds.”

“Scared?” Ray mocked. “Ya damn skippy I’m scared. Them hellions might be only four, but I’m telling ya,
mon frère
, they were career criminals in their other life.” He chuckled. “Last time I ended up babysitting ’em, they called 911 and told the dispatcher they needed help.”

“Well, did they?”

“Hell naw. I sent those two convicts we claim as family to their room for a time-out. How was I supposed to know you’d taught them what 911 was?”

The only thing A.J. could do was smile. Taylor and Tyler were geniuses at finding cracks to slip through, and the family was always on guard around them. “Well, now you know.”

“Yeah, right, after my name’s been placed on the FBI’s most wanted list.” Ray chuckled again. “Listen,
mon frère
, you and Honey take ya time. I got ’em covered.”

A.J. smiled. “
Merci
.”

* * *

“How long have you been using, Valerie?” Vic asked.

Racked with fear, the young woman jerked her head up. “H-How you know my name?”

It was a little past five in the evening. Vic and A.J. stood next to Valerie’s hospital bed.

“Looked at your chart,” Vic answered. “Also saw the results of your lab report. You got traces of crack in your system. Now when’s the last time you used?”

Valerie wrung her hands together. “T-Two weeks. It’s been two long weeks. I-I been clean since then, though.”

Vic hitched her brow. “You sure?”

“I swear,” Valerie answered truthfully and suddenly stared back with a panic-stricken look. “You the police?”

“No, sweetie. I’m a nurse.” Vic smiled softly and sat on the edge of the bed, taking Valerie’s hand inside of hers. “Do you remember me?”

Valerie focused through swollen eyelids and smiled slightly. “The lady at the clinic?”

Vic nodded. “That’s right.”

“What about him?” Valerie lifted a shaky finger and pointed at A.J. “H-He the police?”

“No, no, Valerie,” A.J. answered in a soothing voice. He walked over to the opposite side of the hospital bed. “I’m not the police.”

Valerie slowly raised her battered body to an upright position. “Who you, then?”

“My name is Dr. Baptiste, sweetheart.” A.J. flashed a bright smile and pulled his stethoscope from the pocket of a long, white lab coat. “But most of my patients call me Dr. B.” He knew he had to gain her trust, so he placed his hand on her shoulder to get her to lie back. “I want to listen to your lungs and make sure they’re clear. Will you allow me to do that?”

Valerie gave Vic a hesitant stare.

Vic patted the top of Valerie’s hand. “He’s good people, baby. Lie back for him, okay?”

A.J. quickly examined Valerie’s injuries and checked her vital signs, then placed his stethoscope around his neck. “Lungs sound great. Perhaps we can get you out of here soon.”

“Y’all the only people who done helped me in a long time.”

Vic smoothed back a strand of tangled reddish hair that had scattered across Valerie’s face. “Who did this to you, sweetie?”

Valerie tried to pull her swollen bottom lip between her teeth and failed. “Nobody.”

“Oh, so your face had an attack with a couple of fists all by itself, huh? Is that what you want us to believe?” Vic saw the fear in the young girl’s eyes and a deep sense of sadness filled her. “Come on, now. We can’t help you if you don’t talk to us.”

Tears rolled down Valerie’s bruised cheeks. “I-I can’t tell. He might hurt my babies if I talk.”

“Where are your babies now?” A.J. asked. When he noticed Valerie’s hesitation, he added, “Vic and I can’t help you if you don’t tell us the truth.”

“At the house…I think,” Valerie whispered.

“You’re not sure?” Vic asked softly.

“I ran out to get away from Tony…uh…I mean Scooter.”

Vic looked over and held Baptiste’s gaze because she figured Valerie was trying to protect the identity of this Tony, Scooter, or whatever his name was.

A.J. picked up on Vic’s clue and sat on the edge of Valerie’s bed. “Did Scooter do this to you?”

Valerie didn’t confirm or deny the question. “I-I’m tired of living like this.”

A.J. cleared his throat. “Valerie, what made Scooter so angry?”

Valerie remained silent.

A.J. paused in his questioning for a moment and studied the fearful expression on Valerie’s face. “Usually something happens that causes a person to become angry enough to hurt someone this way. Do you know what it might have been?”

Valerie brushed back a tear and swallowed the lump in her throat. “H-He heard me calling about the reward.”

Vic and A.J. stared at each other, stunned.

A.J. returned his attention to Valerie and continued to gently coax the remaining information out of her. “What reward, sweetheart?”

“About that hit-and-run accident,” Valerie admitted after a pregnant pause.

Vic’s throat tightened and she silently counted to ten in order to regain her composure. She noticed how Baptiste lifted his brow, his eyes connecting with hers, an indication for her not to utter a word, at least for now. She was anxious to know more, but followed his lead not to let Valerie know they were two of the victims involved.

A.J. cleared his throat. “Why did you call, Valerie?”

“I-I figured if I got the money…”

“Go on, sweetheart,” A.J. uttered gently. “If you got the money…”

“I-I…” Valerie hedged and began to cry.

Patting her hand, A.J. softly urged her on. “Go ahead, sweetheart, and finish what you were about to say so that we can help you.”

Valerie sobbed. “So I could leave him.”

A.J. sighed softly. “Valerie, do you know anything about the accident?”

Valerie nodded. “I-I was in the car with him when he hit them people.”

Vic placed a trembling hand against her chest.

“Do you remember what kind of car Scooter was driving?” A.J. asked.

Valerie nodded. “I don’t know the kinda of car, but it was red.”

“Valerie,” A.J. said, “think hard for me. Did the car have two doors or four doors?”

Deep in concentration, Valerie thought for a moment and gently wiped the tears running along her cheeks. “Two doors.”

A.J. shifted so his vision was better aligned with Valerie’s. “Okay, you said you were trying to get the money. What were you going to do with it?”

Valerie shrugged. “I-I need to turn my life around ’cause I got two babies. I figured I could go somewhere and start over. Y-You know what I mean?” She heaved and wiped her face with her hands again. “I’m tired.”

Vic had remained silent long enough. “Sweetie, you’re so young. How did you get messed up like this?”

Valerie sighed and shrugged. “Hard-headed. Wouldn’t listen to nobody and started hanging out with the wrong crowd. I got caught up.”

Vic had glanced over the young girl’s hospital chart and knew she’d just turned eighteen. “You finish high school yet?”

“Had to drop out when I got pregnant with my babies.”

“What about your family, Valerie? Are they willing to help you?” A.J. asked.

Valerie shook her head.

A.J. glanced at Vic, and then looked back at Valerie. “Is Scooter the father of your babies?”

Valerie nodded.

“Valerie,” A.J said softly, “do you have a job?”

Valerie bowed her head with embarrassment. “No, but I pick up cash here and there.”

Vic narrowed her eyes. “You selling?”

“No, no, I-I don’t sell,” Valerie admitted truthfully. “I-I just…”

“Just what, sweetheart?” A.J. asked softly.

“I make drop-offs from time to time.”

Without condemnation, Vic said, “But you crossed over the line and started using. Why?”

BOOK: When a Man Loves a Woman (Indigo)
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