“I thought that gut-stuff was only on T.V.”
“Nope. It’s real. For some of us.”
“Well, to clarify, I am technically still married, which is why I have the ring on. But my husband ... left ... several months ago. So I’m on my own now.” Aimee looked through the glass leading into the waiting area. “My friend has to leave soon. I need to get back. I’m sorry.” And she really was sorry too. Even though he was intimidating, he made her feel safe with his concern and his gun.
Officer Cleary pulled a business card and a pen out of his front shirt pocket, writing on the card as he talked. “I’m going to put my personal cell phone number on my card. I want you to keep this handy. If you ever need help, night or day, you call me. Don’t hesitate, just do it. Okay?” He handed her the card.
Aimee reached out and took it from him, looking down and noticing his full name. “Joseph Cleary.”
“That’s me. But you can call me Joe.”
She looked up and noticed he was smiling. “Do you always give out your personal cell phone to damsels in distress?”
“Only the really pretty ones.”
Aimee blushed so hard, she was afraid her hair was going to catch on fire. She stood suddenly, anxious to get away from him. Not because she didn’t find him attractive, but because she had no idea what to do in a situation like this. Jumping from an ex-husband’s attack to the warm happiness of a cute cop giving her his number and practically promising to be her knight in shining armor was too much for her brain to handle right now. “Thanks, Joe. I have to go now.”
Joe remained seated. “No problem. Good luck in there. Remember to call me ... if you need anything or want to talk about what happened.”
Aimee waved the card at him. “Thanks.” She walked away, sliding the card into her purse. She wanted to look back to see if he was still there, but she forced herself to keep her eyes forward. She concentrated on walking as carefully as possible so she wouldn’t trip. She didn’t trust herself not to do something colossally stupid right now, especially since she had an audience made up of the cutest guy she’d ever seen up close. Jack was handsome in a lawyerly kind of way, but Joe Cleary? He was something else entirely.
Aimee pushed open the door of the E.R. and practically ran over to sit with Kiki, who was smiling as if she had a really good secret.
“What are you so happy about?” asked Aimee, sitting down, feeling slightly flustered.
“Oh, I don’t know ... maybe that hot cop making a move on you in the E.R. It’s kind of sweet, actually.”
“He wasn’t making a move. He was just doing his job.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“Yes.”
Kiki frowned at her.
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
The nurse opened the sliding glass window at the desk and said, “Aimee?”
Aimee stood. “That’s me. I’ve gotta go. See you soon?”
“Sure. Two weeks.”
“Have a good night ... at work.”
“I’ll try,” said Kiki, unfolding her long frame from the waiting room chair.
“Stay away from the pimps,” whispered Aimee, smiling.
Kiki grinned back. “No problem.”
Aimee walked up to the front desk and followed the nurse’s instructions to move through the double doors into the actual examination area. She looked back at the emergency room doors, watching as Kiki walked out, drawing every eye in the place toward her. Aimee tried to remember if she’d ever seen anyone that pretty close-up, and decided that she hadn’t. It was kind of depressing to think that someone like that was stuck in a dead-end job, unhappy, and as far as Aimee could tell, without a man in her life. It made her own prospects seem nearly hopeless. She pushed through the doors and was greeted by a young doctor who looked rushed and unhappy. Great. This guy’s about to stick me with a needle in the back of my head. Thanks a lot, Jack, you jerk.
Chapter 8
“YA LATE,” SAID ANTHONY, THE host – slash – bouncer at the front door of Lola’s, the steakhouse and strip club where Kiki worked. “Duke’s pissed. Ya’d better try to avoid him if ya can.”
“Thanks, Auntie. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“Don’t call me dat. You know I don’t like it. It’s Anthony, not Auntie.” His version of ‘Anthony’ sounded more like ‘Ant-Knee’.