Bailey walked out of the locker room in a daze. Since when did Sam not want to talk about anything? She loved gossip almost as much as she loved Dane. She must have had a truly awful day, to not want to talk about it. Bailey turned the corner and shouldered her purse. She’d clocked out already so all she had to do was exit the building and walk to her car. Then she’d drive for twenty minutes (fifteen without traffic) on her way home.
It was nice knowing that the weekend was here. She could look forward to a good two days of solid workouts; Bailey needed a few days off. It was strange. One weekend off was a miracle. Two weekends off in a row? Bailey didn’t know what to think about that. She didn’t think Mathews was about to fire her. He hadn’t said anything to indicate he was unsatisfied with her work. He had actually praised her for taking so much time with Ace.
It was about halfway down the stairs that Bailey realized that she should probably check the on-call sheet before she left, just in case. So she trudged back up the stairs amidst the attendings and residents leaving for the day. Bailey had taken the stairs with the idea that she could get in an early workout, but going up and down like this was really making her legs burn. And she wanted to avoid Mathews without looking like she was avoiding him. He always took the elevators, so he’d never see her on the stairs.
Satisfied that she wasn’t going to get any calls during the night or throughout the weekend, Bailey made her way down the stairs once more. The throng of people in the waiting room was thick. Bailey could barely fit through even after she’d shouted over the babble that there needed to be a path to the door. The night nurses were going to have their hands full if these people were all waiting to be admitted. Grumbling, Bailey slipped through the sliding doors out into the warm evening air.
A roar announced the arrival of an engine. Bailey turned just as a red Ferrari stopped in front of her. The tinted window opened to reveal a slim beauty with caramel waves of hair. She pushed her sunglasses down to the bottom of her nose so that she could look over them. The woman looked Bailey up and down—Bailey noted that her scrubs were cleaner than they had been yesterday, but she was still wearing scrubs nonetheless—before narrowing her perfectly painted eyes marginally.
Bailey had started to walk around the car when the woman spoke. “You were in my husband’s room yesterday,” she said.
“I’m his nurse,” Bailey told the woman after turning back to face her. She hadn’t realized that the woman in the car was Ace’s wife until she started speaking. When Bailey had met her the first time, the woman had barely noticed her. Now it was like the woman couldn’t take her eyes off of her.
“I’d like you to know my name,” the woman continued. Her pastel lips were pursed. “I’d like you to know my name in case my husband dies. I want you to notify me if my husband dies.”
“Of course,” Bailey replied, “but its very unlikely—”
“My name is Gemma Owens,” the woman interrupted in a sweetly acidic voice. “And I will be seeing you soon, Nurse Brown.”
Bailey watched, again with her mouth slightly open, as Gemma replaced her sunglasses into their original position, put the Ferrari in gear, and drove swiftly from the parking lot of the hospital.