Reading Online Novel

The Billionaire Next Door(45)





There were some people milling around, two of whom were in white coats and obviously doctors or nurses. The others seemed like a family: the woman with a baby in her arms and a toddler latched onto one leg, the man with a five-year-old up on his shoulders.



“Nice-looking place,” Sean said.



“It is. The people who work here are so committed. And the patients we treat are very special. I’ve been lucky to be a part of it.”



“Even with the cuts in funding, it’ll still stay open, right?”



“The question is for how long. We’re—they’re close to the bone already, working with equipment that needs to be upgraded in a facility that’s really too small. The thing that scares me is, I don’t know what this community would do without these services. So many folks aren’t able to get downtown to the big medical centers, either because they don’t have the money to travel that far or there are child-care issues or they can’t take off the time from work to spend all afternoon in a doctor’s office that’s miles away.” She shook her head and put her hand on the door. “Anyway…thanks for the ride.”



“Wait, how long have you worked here?”



“Two years.” Her eyes shifted back to the center. “Two years and two months. Like I said, I was right out of nursing school when I came onboard. Hard to believe it’s my last day. I’m going to miss this place.”



As Lizzie got out, the folks around the front door called her by name and she greeted them as one would friends, not patients or colleagues.



She leaned down into the rental car. “Thanks again, Sean.”



“Lizzie?”



“Yes?”



“When do you get off?”



“Late today because they’re throwing me a goodbye party. So not until sevenish. Why?”



“Just wondering. Take care.”





***





Chapter Eleven



“So who was he, Lizzie?”



As the little conference room went silent, Lizzie looked up from her slice of We’ll Miss You cake. The question had been popped by one of the other nurses, and with all the attention on her, Lizzie figured she had few options for response: Just a friend. No one special. Son of her landlord.



Or she could go with the truth: Wall Street tycoon with whom she’d had a very short-lived affair. Who was kind of still hanging around.



Ugh.



“Who are we talking about?” someone else asked.



“The guy who dropped off Lizzie today. The very handsome guy.”



Keep it simple, stupid, Lizzie thought. “He’s just a friend. My car died again.”



“Well, from what I saw,” a third person cut in, “a friend like him would be good to have.”



Everyone smiled at her and piled on with good-natured ribbing. Which naturally caused Lizzie to turn as red as a stop sign.



Thank heavens the conversation was cut off by Denisha. The hollow sound of a plastic fork tapping on a plastic cup shifted the focus to the director. “I just want to take a minute to thank Lizzie for everything she’s done.”



“Hear! Hear!” came the chorus.



As people said a lot of really nice things, Lizzie looked down and pushed a wedge of frosting around her plate. She couldn’t meet the eyes of her colleagues. Not with the tears that were threatening to spill at any minute.



“Lizzie?” Denisha said. “We have something for you.”



Lizzie glanced up. “Really, that’s not—”



The director held out an envelope. “This is for you.”



Lizzie put her little plate down and took it. After working the flap free, she pulled out a homemade card with…oh, God…hundreds of signatures on it: patients and colleagues and the cleaning staff and the lawn men she’d helped with the flowers and the UPS guy and the medical reps who visited regularly.



She blinked fast so that only one tear escaped and hit the card. “You have no idea…what this means to me.” She put her present up to her chest as if she could embrace at once all the people who had cared enough to sign it. “I will miss you so much.”



A group hug bloomed all around her, people sniffling and smiling and holding on.



It was a sweet, sweet moment, proving that one person could make a difference to others. And it reminded her of why she’d become a nurse. There was great satisfaction in being a part of something like this, part of a place that cared about a community and healed the ill and infirm. She only hoped she could find something half as fulfilling somewhere else.