That was really it, wasn't it? She'd heard the Snowballs talk about Jordan and his lack of moral standards for as long as she'd known them. And wasn't she exactly the same as him? She'd never asked anybody to prove that they were single before hooking up with them. For all she knew, she'd been just as guilty as he was. She loved her Snowball family.If they looked at her like they looked at him?
Of course, she could just become a more moral person.
And there was that thought spiral again, ready to kick her in the teeth. Women were supposed to love commitment. They weren't supposed to be driven by pleasure or passion, tonotwant a serious relationship.
In her thirties, she'd gotten to the point where she gave zero shits what other people thought about her life choices. But she did give many shits about the people she loved. The truth was, some people just weren't ready to love that part of her. Which was why she kept her handful of friends close. And why she couldn't lie to them during girl therapy.
But none of that mattered because she was going to skid off the road and die in an effing ditch.
Rhonda gripped the wheel, muttering prayers to any god that would listen and wishing she’d stopped to open the damn bag of chips.
Chapter
Fifteen
Jordan
Jordan waitedat the nursing station. It was 4:05, and Gertie still hadn't returned. Normally, he’d be happy not to cross paths with her before he left the hospital, but today he was counting on it. He had a game at seven in Chestermere and didn’t have much time to spare, especially with the weather starting to roll in. His weather app had barely mentioned potential snowfall, but the forecaster he followed online had been predicting it would be a doozy.
He heard Gertie before he saw her. Her voice could have been used for Marge Simpson’s sister in a spin-off series. Gertie turned the corner and stopped when she saw him standing there.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” she asked, straightening her scrubs. Her hair was pulled up into a banana clip that spanned the entire curve of her skull.
Jordan smirked. “I’m a dedicated employee.”
She rolled her eyes and walked past him, leaning over to make a note on a Post-It. She had hundreds of Post-Its scattered around the desk and somehow kept track of every last one of them. If any of the nurses accidentally knocked one to the floor or, heaven forbid, threw one in the trash, they all paid for it.
“Are you excited for that staff dinner on the twenty-eighth?” Jordan asked.
She turned her head, her eyes narrowing. “What staff dinner?”
“Sorry, does it have a fancier name? You’re sitting at the table Dr. Mallory purchased, right?”
Gertie lifted an eyebrow. “The cancer fundraiser?”
“You’repro-cancer?” He looked aghast. Gertie rolled her eyes, and Jordan laughed. “Yes, the cancer research fundraiser. Lots of small talk. Probably keynote speakers.” He drew out those last words. He knew how much she hated listening to other people talk.
Gertie shuddered. “They needed an extra butt in the seat, and I was promised cheesecake.” She stuck the Post-It underneath the lip of the counter, then picked up her clipboard.
“What if I had an extra butt for you?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’d have to own a suit. Or at least a shirt and tie.” She stalked from the nurses’ station, heading down the hall.
Gertie with the zingers. Jordan followed her. “Not for me, for a friend.”
“Your friend is interested in cancerresearch?” she asked.
“Yep, and she has lots of money. Might be interested in making a donation.” None of that was technically untrue. Rhonda had to make a good salary, and considering how much she believed in Reviact, she probably would be one of those people to take money out of her own pocket for a worthy cause.
Gertie stopped, and he almost ran into her hunched back. She turned to face him. “I was promised cheesecake.”
“That’s why . . .” Jordan pulled out his phone and typed a quick search into his browser. “I was thinking you could go here instead.” He turned the screen to face her. “I’ll get you a gift card. Forty bucks should buy a lot of cheesecake.”
A smile played at the corner of Gertie’s mouth. “You’re buying me off?”
Jordan scoffed. “I’m doing you a favour. Just because I love you.”
Gertie shooed him away and continued down the hall. “I want that gift card in my inbox.”