Page 13 of BillionHeir
“No?” I ask incredulously.
“From what I understand, you are too difficult.”
“Difficult?” I nearly bellow.
Ethan arches an eyebrow at me but stays silent while I seethe. I thought for sure this little plan of mine would work. I knew the nurse looked familiar, but it took a few hours for me to remember how I knew her. Once it dawned on me that she wasthe woman I met when I ran into Jackson and Jenna in Boston last year, I worked out the perfect plan.
Only, she doesn’t seem to agree. That is okay. She will come around. They always do.
“Offer her more money,” I demand.
“Are you sure? I am certain we could find another nurse for you.”
“I want her.”
“Why?” Ethan asks, his curiosity clearly piqued.
Why indeed.
I haven’t quite figured it out myself. All I know is that there is something about her that intrigues me.
“Just do it,” I command, unwilling to answer the question for him or myself.
“Okay, I will try again tonight when her shift is over. But she was quite emphatic about her decision, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“Why wait? She is here right now, isn’t she?”
“She is working, Max. I am not going to poach her while she is on the clock.”
“Well, then send her in here, and I will do it myself.”
Ethan takes a deep breath and gives me an exasperated look. I know I am being difficult, maybe more difficult than usual, but I can’t stay in this place any longer or I am going to lose my mind.
“As you wish. I have to get to the office. I will be back this evening to check in with you.”
I nod and watch as he walks out, resigning myself to at least one more day in this hellhole. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t bored out of my mind. I have slept about all I can sleep and watched more television than any person should. I had an hour of physical therapy where I learned just how bad my injuries actually were, and just how hard I am going to need to work to get back to normal. But even that was mundane at best.
I am under strict doctor's orders not to work right now. I tried getting Ethan to bring me my laptop from home, but he won’t budge. I could send someone else from my company to pick it up, but Ethan would inevitably find out and thwart my plan. Probably disable the device remotely. I am supposed to be under as little stress as possible, but I am pretty sure the lack of stress is giving me anxiety.
I am used to a fast-paced world. One where I rise just before the sun every morning to get my workout in, then shower and go straight to work. I don’t go to sleep until long after dark, usually after another workout and sometimes a glass of scotch, if the exercise doesn’t do the trick. I am used to burning the candle at both ends. In fact, I thrive in that lifestyle.
Boredom is not a feeling I am familiar with. Nor is it comfortable. It gives me too much time to think. About my past.My future. Every single mistake I have ever made, and believe me, there have been several.
The state of my life isn’t all that great right now.
I have no family. No spouse. I have dated, but I really prefer not to. It is just easier that way. Women tend to latch on to men like me, and I would just rather avoid all the leeches and gold diggers at this point in my life. I have had a few women who I could call when I had some free time, but my free time has become few and far between these days. When I have time, I usually prefer my own company, or that of my best friends, to that of a woman.
My social life consists primarily of my assistant Ethan, who has made himself indispensable with his efficiency and level headedness, and a couple of misfit best friends who can barely hold their own lives together, let alone help me get mine straight.
None of that is likely to change any time soon, if I am completely honest with myself. Sharing my life with people isn’t something that comes naturally for me. I don’t do well feeling vulnerable.
I am just dozing off about an hour later when I hear the door to my room. I open my eyes to see my favorite nurse walking in. I straighten, ready to convince her to quit her job and work for me.
“Good morning, Chloe.”
She gives me a surprised look before quickly averting her eyes. She avoids looking at me as she walks over to the monitors I am still hooked up to, checking the flow of the bag of fluids they are constantly pumping into me. Either I make her nervous, or she is embarrassed by the fact that she wants to take my offer. I think it is the second one.
When she never answers my greeting, I clear my throat and try again.
