Page 27 of The Nanny Contract

Casey’s face lit up. “Right, the carnival. It was… memorable.”

Memorable.

The word lingered in the air between us with all the things we both knew were true but remained unspoken.

“In fact…,” Casey started, but his voice trailed off.

Go on, I thought, willing him to continue.

“In fact,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about it since last night.”

Before I could tell him I’d been thinking about him too, my phone rang.

The sound was awful, instantly filling me with dread.

Since I was on call, I had to answer it.

On the other end of the line, the hospital scheduler informed me that a woman had been brought in following a serious caraccident. After suffering trauma injuries, my surgical skills were required to control the bleeding and stabilize her.

I hung up the phone and looked up at Casey who had probably figured out that I needed to leave.

“I have to go.”

He nodded with a forced smile. “I understand.”

There wasn’t a moment to spare.

As I rushed toward my car keys, I had a sinking feeling.

How much longer was I going to keep up this life?

Leaving important moments to rush to a hospital.

Having no work-life balance, not a single moment to call my own. The one day off a week I received was marred by anxiety about being on call.

Keys in hand, I rushed toward my vehicle, knowing I’d have to practically fly through the streets of Charleston to make it to Pinehurst in time.

As I drove, memories of Gloria’s passing came rushing back to me. She’d died in a car accident, and this wasn’t the first time since her passing that I’d been called into the hospital for something like this.

Memories—constant, agonizing memories—were brought to me regularly in my line of work.

Bridging the distance between myself and the hospital, I reflected on all the time I’d spent in hospital rooms, leaving my wife and son at home alone.

Mother had been after me for years to quit. But that was easy for a woman of Betsy’s wealth to say. Me, I had to continue working. It was necessary for me to provide for myself and my son. Henry was already eyeing Ivy League colleges where tuition wasn’t cheap.

The urgent tone in the hospital scheduler’s voice played in my mind. The details provided had been sparse but alarming: blunt force to the chest, unsteady vitals, internal bleeding.

Time was of the utmost importance.

The city of Charleston flew past me in a blur of lights mixed with dark shadows. The historic streets were normally calming and beautiful, but when speeding through, they almost seemed like an obstacle course.

The nearby harbor brought the scent of salt into my car through the open windows. I could hear the distant hum of laughter and music from nearby bars.

The sounds of a saxophone being played by someone on the street cut through some of the chaos in my mind.

My hands gripped the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white.

As I finally pulled into the hospital parking lot, I steeled myself.

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