Page 70 of Nanny for the Bossy Billionaire

No, Reid. Don’t think like that.

She is fine. Maybe it’s not even her. Maybe some woman stole her phone and then got into a car accident. Maybe she’s at her parent’s place and doesn’t know my number by heart to call me and let me know that her phone has been stolen.

I know this scenario is unlikely, but I hold onto it because it means that Naomi is fine.

Once I get to the hospital, I park haphazardly in the middle of two parking spaces, but I don’t care. I get out of the car and sprint toward the emergency room.

When I burst through the doors, I scan the space for the reception desk. Once I locate it, I hustle over and almost yell, “Naomi Davidson.”

The nurse standing in front of me staring down at her computer screen with her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose raises her eyes to me. “Excuse me?”

“Naomi Davidson. I am looking for Naomi Davidson. She was brought in probably around an hour ago.”

“Hello, sir,” she says, emphasizing her greeting.

I think she thinks I’m going to feel bad because of my lack of etiquette. Fuck that. I stare her down and she eventually falters.

“Let me just check on that for you.” She taps on her keyboard and a moment later, says, “Yes, Naomi Davidson was brought in. How are you related to her?”

“I am not related to her, per se. I am her boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t give patient information to non-family members.”

I slam my fist on the counter. “I am her boyfriend, damnit! She’s estranged from her family. Can you just tell me where she is?”

The nurse I’m talking to, as well as the other two to her left at the same desk look at me with caution. “Again, sir, by law, I am not allowed to give patient information to non-family members. If I have to, I’ll call security.”

“This is ridiculous.” I back away from the desk and pull out my phone.

I dial Naomi’s number again in the hope that the police still have it and will answer.

I am relieved when the same voice I heard earlier picks up.

“Officer Jackson, this is Reid Harris. We spoke earlier about Naomi Davidson. I’m her boyfriend. I am currently at the hospital, but they won’t tell me anything.”

“Yes, I am afraid they’re not allowed to. However, I can tell you that the hospital was able to reach her parents and they say they’re on their way to the hospital. I’m still on the scene, but I’m sure if her parents arrive they will be briefed on Ms. Davidson’s condition. If you are indeed her boyfriend like you say you are, then they’ll let you know what’s going on.”

I want to cuss the officer out for being so useless, but I remind myself that that would be counterproductive. Plus, he’s only doing his job. So instead, I say, “Thank you.”

I don’t even know what Naomi’s parents look like. I pick a corner close enough to the reception desk so I can hear what is being said by anyone who walks in.

I don’t have to wait long because about 30 minutes later, a middle-aged man in a suit walks in with a woman about the same age, in a cocktail dress.

“Good evening,” the man says. I can tell he’s trying to sound dignified, but I can hear the panic in his voice. “I am looking for Naomi Davidson. She’s my daughter and we got a phone call that she was in an accident and was brought here.”

“Good evening, sir,” the nurse from before says, sounding annoyingly polite. She checks her computer yet again, then says, “Yes, your daughter was brought in and was stabilized by Dr. Owens. She has been moved to a private room upstairs.”

“Thank God,” the woman who I think is Naomi’s mother says as her hand goes to her heart. “Please take us to her.”

“Of course, ma’am” the nurse says. “I’ll get someone to show you to her room.” She picks up the phone on her desk and makes a call.

While she does this, I approach Naomi’s parents who still have their backs turned to me.

“Excuse me,” I say. When they both turn around my heart stops for the second time today.

It’s Vincent and Rose Carlisle.

Vincent is the CEO ofLitmus Industries Inc.

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