Page 24 of A Guardian for Christmas

“Medical opinion?” says the doctor.

“He’s a nurse,” Esme interjects.

I’m not a nurse anymore, but sure, let’s go with that.

“How interesting. Well, I’ll ask you to keep your opinions to yourself, Nurse Fisher.”

That’s about the reaction I expected.

“Still, you can refer her for testing. She’s clearly suffering from depression as well.”

The doctor ignores me now and moves on. “I’d like to increase your sleep medicine,” he says, scribbling on a notepad, which I find weird. Most doctors type everything directly into a secured laptop these days. “And don’t forget your heart medicine. And I’m adding something for the hallucinations. Something for anxiety, but I caution you to keep yourself calm. I know how stressful the holidays can be.”

I’ve never heard a doctor prescribe less movement to deal with anxiety and depression. I need to investigate this heart issue further.

“Where’d you go to medical school?” I ask.

The temperature in the room seems to drop by ten degrees, as if it weren’t cold enough in this joint.

“Pardon me?”

“Where’d you get your medical degree? Where did you do your residency? These are simple questions.”

The doctor’s eyes assess me.

Footsteps echo down the hall and then the other older man, the one who met me at the door, walks in, takes one look at me, and his jaw drops.

“Fisher! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be working up a quote for the chimney repairs!”

No one since my military days has ever addressed me by my last name.

I let Esme speak. “I invited him to join me on my appointment.”

“Yes,” Dr. White simpers with all the fakery I would expect. “He’s been asking lots of questions on Ms. Bryant’s behalf. Inquisitive young man.”

Frye’s gaze shifts from me to Dr. White to Esme. “Ms. Bryant, may I ask why you invited a contractor to this appointment?”

Her eyes have a spark in them for the first time since we met last year. “He kindly helped me this morning, and we had a very nice…conversation.”

Esme’s cheeks flush. The small smile makes me itch to take her straight back up to her room and let her know what I think of her being coy.

But her heart? I can’t be doing anything of the sort. Not without investigating this whole thing.

“Ms. Bryant, this is highly concerning,” Frye says.

“I have to agree with Mr. Frye. Not everyone is entitled to your medical information,” Dr. White says.

“Especially complete strangers,” Frye says, wringing his hands.

Esme clucks. “But we’re not complete strangers. We’re old friends. That’s why I called him to come look at my chimney. Isn’t that right, Sagan?”

Her hand on my arm is making my cock twitch, and that’s saying something because these two dudes are massive buzzkills. And how does this woman make the word “chimney” feel so damn filthy?

I clear my throat, trying to will away the erection in my jeans. “That’s right. Old, old friends.”

Frye squints at me. “I have no record of you visiting Bryant Estate.”

Esme shrugs. “Well, now you do.”

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