Free Club Prive: Sweet Escape (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Leslie Johnson Page B

make myself clear?”
    Silence fills the room as I watch him mentally flip through his playbook, trying to decide what to do next. “I’ll be in my office,” he says and turns, striding through the door.
    “You’re my hero,” Avery’s soft voice comes from the bed, her eyes still covered by the cloth.
    I step over to the door and see nurses turning away from the room, making themselves busy as is the custodian, pushing his mop back and forth.
    My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s Brooke, giving me her contact information. I type out a thank you in reply, telling her my driver will be at her disposal when it’s time to take Avery home.
    I text James to let him know the situation and to be on call. I also ask him to have food — several varieties of soups — delivered to her address, as well as place an order with a local grocery to have staples, including ice cream and popsicles, delivered too. Labels must be checked to avoid shellfish, I tell him, stressing it with asterisks on both sides of the words.
    I turn back to my patient. My employee. My lover.
    Yes, I want her to be my lover, I realize. More than that, I need her to be.
    Watching her face turn red, the terror so clearly written on her face as her throat closed up was the most horrifying thing I’d ever experienced. Her green eyes begging me for help, her fingers clutching at me.
    Not being able to make her breathe right away. The helplessness of watching her fight for her life as I did all I could to help her. The enormous relief when she was able to inhale. Being unable to let go of her hand, even with all the eyes watching me, watching her. Knowing it could cause her trouble, I couldn’t let her go.
    I want her in my life. I want to get to know her better, see if there’s more than attraction between us, because I feel very certain that there is.
    I spent years in medical school and became a good doctor because I have instincts about situations. I’ve helped my father increase the wealth of his company because I had instincts about directions to go in, patents to research and apply for.
    My instincts had led me to New York. I hadn’t needed a job. I’ll never need a job. Neither will my children or their children or the children after that. But I’d been drawn to an ad in a medical journal from an east coast hospital needing a part-time chief of staff. I’d tossed the magazine aside, then picked it back up. The next day, I found myself applying. Then flying out to interview. Then saying goodbye to California because the timing felt so right for a change to occur in my life.
    Because of her?
    I don’t know, but I want to find out.
    Avery moans and I step closer to the bed to grasp the hand that raises in the air. She’s dreaming. Defending herself from an attacker? Her sister? She cries out, and I lean down to place my lips on her forehead.
    “Ssshhh … it’s alright. Nothing will hurt you. I’ll never let anything hurt you again.”
    She calms and murmurs something I don’t understand, her hand relaxing in mine. A shadow falls into the room, and I look up, but it’s only the custodian. He turns away, his mop swishing in front of him.
    My phone buzzes and I look at the screen. It’s an email from Dan Carmichael, my private investigator. I hadn’t canceled the investigation after I found her this morning.
    Dr. Atwood,
    Attached you’ll find numerous press clippings surrounding the murder of Noah and Emily Carlson. Daughters Avery, 16, and Paisley, 12, at time of death. Herkimer County, New York. I’m also attaching transcripts from the trial. Do not ask how I attained them.
    At age 22, Avery Carlson no longer exists, and I’m assuming she had her name legally changed and the records sealed. I’ll continue the investigation to locate the young woman as I feel certain Avery Carlson is the woman you seek.
    Dan
    Carmichael Investigations
    Replying to his message, I let him know the latest development and ask him to cancel the