The Infamous Ellen James
Chapter One
“Not every moment in life is worth the purchase of a Hallmark card…”
Exhausted and starving, I sit down in the breakroom to enjoy a little R&R away from the trenches. I've got to stop agreeing to double shifts. For some reason, Regency has seen an all-time record this July in ER patients, and my manager might as well have me on speed dial. If I even see Nurse Ratchet headed my way to beg me to pick up another shift, I am running in the opposite direction. I don't care if the crazy bitch offers me triple time!
Nurse Ratchet is the less than friendly nickname that has been bestowed upon my wonderful manager, Shirley. She is a beast of a woman who has been a nurse longer than I have even been alive. She lives and breathes her job, and being stylish isn't one of her priorities. Her Groucho Marx eyebrows and gray roots are a testament to that.
I don't even want to imagine what the carpet looks like…
I am newly single, twenty-eight years old, and working over sixty hours in the ER most weeks. Yeah, my life is fucking fantastic right now. I reside in Charlotte, North Carolina, and have been working at Regency Medical for over seven years. Nursing is my job, and I'm thankful it pays my bills, bar tabs, and addiction to smut novels.
My name is Ellen James. Elle for short. I'm ornery and sarcastic, and my favorite word has four letters, starts with an F, and ends with U, C, and K. I'm loud, obnoxious, and inappropriately honest. I have a girl crush on my yoga instructor and take pride in the fact that I can double plow. I promise it's a yoga position!
With that being said, I'm also an advocate of equal opportunity and do not discriminate against any type of plowing. I feel completely certifiable most days, and my therapist's recommendation is Prozac. I'm actually partial to a bottle of tequila and a rough ride to Pound Town. Can you feel my sexual frustration?
Three months ago, I came home early from a nursing conference to find my fiancé in bed with another woman. Not just any other woman though—my friend and coworker, Veronica Morris. Shit hit the fan, and let's just say we won't be sharing Pinterest recipes or braiding each other's hair anytime soon. And to top it all off, I still work with the two-timing asshole and his hooker slut.
I'm not bitter.
Okay, I'm a little bitter, but can you honestly blame me?
I mean, my soon-to-be husband dicked one of my coworkers in our bed. Our god damn bed! Who does that? An asshole, cock-sucking, lying scumbag, that's who. If I could cut his balls off and make him wear them as a necklace, I'd do it.
Just thinking about the night I walked in on them banging it out makes me feel stabby. I've fantasized about running over my ex, John, with my car, more times than I'd like to admit. Nothing can bring out your inner-psycho-bitch like seeing your spouse's cock inside another woman. The only thing that could have made that situation better is if it would have broadcasted on that show Cheaters. I would have found a decent amount of sick-and-twisted enjoyment out of seeing that moment televised for the world to see. John butt-ass naked and begging for my forgiveness while sporting a raging erection with his whore's pussy juice dripping off of it, attempting to hide his face from the cameras…
A god damn Hallmark moment right there.
And again, just thinking about that night is making me feel extremely stabby.
Dr. John Ryan. ER Physician. The man I found to be sexy, charming, and utterly irresistible. He was once the most important man in my life. I'd started dating him when I was twenty-two years old, and things just escalated from there. We fell in love, moved in together, got engaged, and planned to live happily ever after in a beautiful home with a white picket fence.
Fortunately, our relationship ended before purchasing our dream home, because three months ago I probably would have lit that motherfucker on fire.
Chapter Two
“Sometimes surprises surprise the fuck out of you, and sometimes those surprises come in the form of a big red flag—a two-timing cocksucker with a hard-on, thrusting into a dirty pirate hooker.”
Three months ago…
I decided to surprise him. I knew he would be home in bed by the time my flight got in. As I got out of the cab, the cool night air caused shivers up my spine. Charlotte was uncharacteristically cold for April that night, and I noticed our bedroom light was on in the apartment. I remember thinking it was odd that John was still awake.
It's 2 a.m. Maybe he's on call tonight?
I paid the driver and dragged my suitcase through the front door.
I could hear faint moaning.
What? Is John watching porn?
I actually giggled at the thought of this. I had no idea what or who was coming—pun intended. I walked down the hall and opened our bedroom door to find my fiancé balls-deep in Veronica.