Page 8 of Hearts Held
Before I leave the table, Bobby grabs my bicep. “Hey, I actually need to talk to ya, angel.”
“Yeah?” I curtly ask, as I eye the pathway to the restroom, anxiety creeping up the back of my neck.
“I think we could use your expertise, angel. We need someone like you, a nurse. If ya wanna make some extra money.” His bright eyes ease as he makes the offer and he slips a card from the inside of his jacket. “Either stop by the pub the next time you’re free and ask for me, orgimme a call here. My address is on there too.” He gives me a wink and pats my bicep.
“Yeah, I’d be real interested in the extra money. Thank you.” I give him a small smile.
The other girls make muffled noises of disbelief and jealousy.
“If you need another nurse, let me know!” Tilly states.
Anice scoffs. “If you want a better nurse, you’ll wanna hire me!”
Tilly slaps Anice in the back. “That’s enough drinks for you!” she snarks back.
“Ah, sorry, loves, but this one is my guardian angel.” He gives me a small hug before I escape to the restroom. I dump the whiskey down the drain and watch the liquid swirl.
I recollect the card and imagine the “on-call” nurse position he may be referring to.
It would be wise to take it for the extra cash.
I could get to my goal quicker.
As I think of the future, I fill my glass with water and try to breathe through a panic attack.
Ineed air.
Clutching my drink, I walk back to the table, but as soon as I see the men swarming it, the anxiety coils underneath my skin and I feel as if my lungs are crushed.
Everyone is having fun, flirting, laughing and talking, but it all seems too much right now.
Rain has begun to pour outside the Den, so going out for fresh air isn’t the best option without an umbrella.
I climb the stairs to the second floor, spying the influx of individuals gathered there.
This willnotdo.
I take a deep breath in through my nose and exhale from my mouth, finding my hand has begun to shake.
I peer up a staircase to my right that leads to the third floor, hoping that there isn’t a flock of individuals up there as well.
I carefully walk upstairs, easing up each step in fear of potentially tripping in my dizzy state.
After what seems like an hour, I reach the top of the stairs, take several deep breaths and brace for what I will find.
Nothing.
I find that no one is up there. In fact, the top floor is rather dark.
Only a couple lights are on and chairs are turned upside down atop the tables. I find a small circular table in the back corner of the room and take a seat.
As I take a couple small sips of water, I outstretch my arms, feeling the cold wood under my forearms, then rest my head on the table.
After a few moments and some deep, soothing breaths, I feel the anxiety recessing to my legs. I’m hopeful I’ll shake the feeling out shortly.
As I peer up from the table, I startle in fright and the room suddenly feels cruelly cold.
A man is standing in front of the tiny table I have claimed.
