Page 8 of Hard Hat Hottie

“Me too.” Sadie claps. The last time the three of us scheduled a girls’ night, Shay ordered baseball caps for each of us. Her hat saidI’ll Bring the Bad Decisions, Shay’s saidI’ll Bring the Alcohol, and mine was embossed withI’ll Bring the Getaway Car.

“Of course you’re coming with us. We didn’t know you’d be working with us in the ER tonight. That’s all. And it’s been so busy, I barely came up for air or I would’ve told you.”

“God, the next time I help out down here when you’re this short staffed, I need to give myself a Foley catheter. I think I held my bladder for almost two hours before I could make a run for it.”

“I know. It’s a wonder we don’t all have urinary tract infections working here,” I add.

“Well, the best way to treat one of those is to irrigate,” Sadie says, her eyes bright with mischief.

“I don’t think vodka counts,” I blurt.

Gretchen lightly grabs my upper arm to gain my attention. “Harlow, can you help Tony move a patient to the ICU?” I don’t know how she juggles all of this. She manages to let all of us have a few moments to choke down a slice of pizza and continually puts out the usual fires. Call bells constantly ringing, phone calls from family members and pharmacies, and EMS contacting us to advise of incoming patients. Every time someone asks if I’m interested in taking on a similar role, I quickly shake my head. My job is tough enough.

“Sure. I’m on it. I’ll meet you girls at the time clock in thirty.”

“Cheers!” the three of us chant as we clink our cocktails together in the center of the table. Short staffed or not, we managed to bolt out of the ER and jump on that sweet little shuttle to our cars in record time.

“Okay, ladies. We need to decide who the designated driver is before we order another round. Because there’s only one Uber driver in this one-horse town and the last time I got a ride home with him, I almost died.”

“Barnacle Bob is that bad a driver?” I ask Shay, surprised by this little bit of intel. He’s been the only reliable taxi driver in Candy Cane Key for as long as I can remember. He’s practically 100 years old, but added Uber and Lyft stickers to the back of his old jalopy to impress the tourists. Like that would make it more appealing.

“No. He’d just had Mongolian beef right before picking me up and apologized that it made him gassy. Between too many Dirty Shirleys and his exhaust fumes, I thought I’d die before I got to my house.”

I quickly dodge the spray of Key Lime Mojito flying from Sadie’s mouth as she laughs out loud, and I raise my hand for our server.

“What can I get ya?”

“Can I get a round of Dirty Shirleys next? Except make one of them a Shirley Temple and don’t tell us which is which until we drink.”

“You got it, Harlow.”

“Oh, nice call, babe. I like that better than the last game.” Shay giggles. The reminder causing me to guffaw.

The three of us had basically played a game of Two Truths and a Lie. I’d listed two God’s honest jobs that Rob had held back in the day and one that was a lie. If either of them could guess the lie, I’d be the designated driver for the evening. I laugh as I recall watching Shay and Sadie battle it out between them, shocked to find my ex-husband had worked at everything from a junk removal specialist to a parking lot attendant, then briefly as a squirt gun operator.What the hell job is that?Sadie had cackled.An industrial window cleaner.I’d snorted.But they were all better than professional couch potato.I think he still returns to that job more often than not.

“Here you go, girls,” the server says with a saucy grin as she slides our drinks onto the table.

Shay leans forward and Sadie swiftly smacks her on the upper arm. “No cheating, you sneaky wench. I bet that shrewd nose could sniff out a pint of vodka from fifty paces.”

“Okay, on the count of three, grab your drink,” I announce. “One. Two. Three.”

The girls immediately grab the drinks closest to them, and I do the same. While my friends are too busy giggling to find out if their glass contains the mocktail, it’s instantly clear I’ll be driving everyone home with the first sip. And as much as I’d like to indulge a little tonight, it’s a good thing I have to stay clear-headed when I notice the stunned looks on my friends’ faces.

My face falls. “What?”

“Har. Isn’t that Stewart over there?” Sadie asks with a bit of trepidation.

I turn, excited at the prospect he may have decided to come find me to clean the cobwebs from my womb room when my mouth falls open in shock.

CHAPTER FOUR

HARLOW

“Harlow! What’re you doing here?” spineless Stewart asks, a buxom blonde draped all over him in the close quarters of the wooden booth.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Crossing my arms across my chest, I narrow my eyes. I’m trying my very best not to make a scene here. There aren’t many bars in this town for locals to hang out without having to deal with the tourist crowd. Sure, they find their way here once in a while, but by and large, this establishment caters to the full-time residents of Candy Cane Key. The last thing I need is to be persona non grata here, so I’m trying to keep my temper in check.

Stewart blinks rapidly, looking sheepish. There’s no recovering from this. But I want the satisfaction of hearing him say it. “Um, I told you my cousin was in town,” he blurts, straightening in his seat as he attempts to put some distance between him and the blonde octopus.

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