Page 90 of Hope & Harmony

“You’re a nurse, right?”

“I am. Although I’m currently in a managerial position.” She made a face.

“Not your thing?”

“I spend all day putting out fires between the employees. Two nurses who don’t like each other. Computer system goes down. Patients on the phone freaking out about billing issues. Everything falls to me, and none of it is nursing or actually caring for patients, which was what I loved. I thought it would be easier than emergency medicine, but it’s not. It’s just a different kind of hard.”

“Can you go back?”

“I don’t know. I’m considering doing a travel nurse thing, where I just take short-term jobs all over the country. The pay is fantastic, and I’d get to see places I’ve never seen before.”

“So you’d be a road warrior like me.”

“I guess.”

“Not conducive to getting into a relationship, though,” I pointed out.

She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Why you gotta rain on my parade? I almost had a plan.”

I laughed. “You know what they say about the best-laid plans.”

She stuck her tongue out at me, and of course, horn dog that I was, my thoughts went to all the other things she could be doing with that tongue.

I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said after a moment. “I’ve only been at this job six months. I’d like to give it a year. At that point, I’ll reassess. They’ve promised me a secretary. If that happens, I might be happier.”

“Life is short,” I said softly. “If the job is making you miserable, don’t stay. Yes, you have to make a living, but you’re skilled. Nurses are in high demand, from what I’ve read online, so don’t torture yourself at a place that makes you so unhappy you don’t sleep.”

Her face softened as she nodded. “I keep thinking that maybe there’s something wrong with me, that two jobs in a row made me miserable, but you’re right. I’m skilled. I’m employable. I shouldn’t have to put up with stress-induced insomnia. So thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“Believe me, I know what it’s like to be miserable. Avoid it at all costs.”

“You’re sweet, Ross.”

If I was smart, I’d ask her out and get it over with. If she said yes, we could spend a little time together and see if the spark went beyond the sexual attraction. She was smart and beautiful, two things I loved in a woman, and there was no doubt she liked me. The only question was whether she liked Ross-the-forty-two-year-old-tour-manager or if she was simply infatuated with Ross-the-has-been-rocker.

Before I had a chance to say anything, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Devyn, our bass player.

DEVYN: Can you come up to the room? Kingston may not be able to sing tonight.

“I’m sorry,” I told Wynter, waving to get the waitress’s attention. “I have to go. Something’s going on with Kingston.”

Kingston was the band’s frontman.

“Oh no. Is he sick?” She looked up with concern.

“I don’t know. All Devyn said was that he might not be able to sing tonight.”

“Maybe I can help?” she said, quickly getting to her feet as I signed my name on the ticket so breakfast would be charged to my room.

I hesitated but then nodded. “Sure. Thanks. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 4

WYNTER

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