Page 46 of Day Shift

“Still do,” Atticus shot over his shoulder.

Conan paused, glancing over at Atticus and then at me for the briefest of moments before taking a sip of his beer. “Eventually, I realized I wanted something more. Seeing Atticus, how his work mattered, how he saved lives…it got to me. Made me want to feel like I was worth something to someone. So I got my ass enrolled in college. But I knew there was no way I could go through all the hoops for medical school, not to mention there was no way in hell I’d ever get into one. Nursing wasn’t just a random choice; it was a way for me to make a difference too. And yeah, the mostly female colleagues didn’t hurt,” he added with a wry smile.

As I glanced around at everyone, I could see they already knew Conan’s truths by the way they nodded and gave him empathetic smiles. It occurred to me that this was his way of sharing his story with me, a part of his keeping the no-secrets pledge he’d made before. What I didn’t know was whether I deserved his trust. What if, in my real life, I was a horrible person…the kind no one looked for when they suddenly went missing?

“But here’s the kicker,” Conan said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a contemplative whisper. “For a long time, I never wanted the whole white-picket-fence life. Marriage, kids, the whole straight-laced path—it never appealed to me. After what I saw at home, how could it? I saw too much go wrong to ever want that. And the whole societal expectation thing—it wasn’t ever for me either. I like the ED because, like me, it’s intense—immediate. You make a real difference, and then you move on to the next crisis. It fits with how I’ve always lived.”

Samantha nodded. “It’s tough, breaking away from what you’re supposed to want.” She patted his shoulders from behind, gazing down at him with a kind expression before returning to help Atticus with the steaks and chicken coming off the grill.

“Yeah, but here’s the thing,” Conan said, looking over at me with a half grin. “Being in the ED, you see the worst day of someone’s life, every day. It makes you appreciate the good moments and the real connections you make. And that’s what I’m after.”

The group fell quiet, mulling over his words. Then Bethany broke the silence. “Well, I say cheers to finding our own paths, no matter how messy.”

Glasses clinked once more, the conversation giving way to an acceptance of the histories we all carried.

The flickering lights around the pool cast a soft glow on everyone’s faces as we settled back and grazed the finger foods on the table before us. I smiled, feeling fortunate to have stumbled into this quirky, caring group of people.

Soon, Atticus and Samantha began serving dinner. Steaks, chicken kabobs, and grilled vegetables were placed on the table alongside the charcuterie board and a platter of fruit. The table was overflowing with food, and everything smelled as great as it looked. Everyone served themselves, piling their plates high and settling in for the meal.

As we dug in, the conversation drifted toward darker topics—to the infamous Volkov estate.

“You know, I read online about the Volkovi Notchi and your kidnapping, Sam,” I said, a shudder running through me despite the warmth of the evening. “It’s horrifying, all that they were into—human trafficking and drugs. Damn, that shit’s for real.”

“Yeah, those Russians were bad news,” Samantha replied, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “And after everything they put me through…I can’t believe Viktor Volkov and his goons got away.”

Conan nodded, adding another piece of steak to his plate. “The Russian mafia is the worst of the worst—society’s gutter rats. They did a lot of damage to a lot of lives in this part of the country. I’m just glad you got out of that mess mostly unscathed, Sam.”

“We were all stunned by the extent of it,” Atticus added in a somber tone. “Makes you wonder who’d buy such a place, knowing its history.”

Samantha glanced over at Atticus. “I’m curious who the woman is and what she’ll do with the place.”

“That’s the million-dollar question,” Conan said, reaching across me and grabbing the platter with the grilled veggies. “Whoever it is, she’s gotta have some serious guts or no clue about the estate’s past.”

“Yeah, someone with deep pockets and hopefully better intentions,” Atticus added, tearing off a bite of chicken from a skewer with his teeth. “From what my buddy Colton found out, the owner is a wealthy socialite from New York City who bought the property for investment purposes.”

I mulled over why someone from the New York social scene would be interested in a property in Tacoma. The strangeness of that nagged at my missing memories. Somehow, I had a feeling that most NYC girls would hardly know Tacoma existed, much less buy investment property here. Recalling the image of my driver’s license, I once again got a sense that I was somehow tied to New York.

The subject was dropped, and we continued eating, turning to lighter small talk. When we were finally winding down, Conan excused himself. He soon returned, lugging the old-fashioned ice-cream contraption in his arms. “Time for dessert, and you’re all gonna work for it!” he announced with a grin, setting up the machine on the counter near the grill. He poured the ingredients into the basin before putting ice around the edges and a generous helping of rock salt on top of the ice.

Everyone took turns cranking, and it turned into a mini competition of who could crank fastest. When it was my turn, Conan stood close, offering unnecessary tips. “Careful now, it’s all in the wrist action.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

He leaned next to my ear and whispered, “Didn’t I warn you about rolling those big beautiful blue eyes at me?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, patting his stomach as I moved around him to return to my seat. “You just finish cranking that off.” I smiled at the low growl he made behind me.

When he began to serve the soft strawberry ice cream, he playfully dabbed a dollop on my nose. Chuckling, I grabbed a spoonful to flick back at him, but my aim faltered, and it plopped onto the ground. Murphy, ever the opportunist, darted over and lapped it up.

After we finished our dessert, we cleared the table, cleaned up the dishes, and put everything away.

Bethany, leaning against the kitchen counter with her chin resting on her palm, gave me a sideways glance.

“Angel, have you noticed Conan here following you around like a lost puppy?” she asked with a teasing lilt to her voice. “I swear, I’ve never seen him like this around anyone.”

Conan, who was in the midst of drying a plate, paused. In one quick motion, he twisted the towel into a makeshift whip and cracked it over Bethany’s backside, causing her to yelp and back away with her hands up in the air in surrender. He threatened to pop her again, but she ran out to the patio. He rolled his eyes at me as his ears reddened, giving away his embarrassment.

“Oh, so you can roll your eyes at me? Mm-hmm, I see the double standard.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, and a bright smile lit up his face, sending fiery tingles straight to the apex of my thighs.

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