This is my second letter in the “Lost Love Letters Series”. Do go here to read the rest of the series: J. Morgan Woodall’s Rocket City Cafe.Thanks again to J. Morgan Woodall for inviting me to participate!
I had dreams. Big ones. And Dean Carter did everything in his power to help me achieve them.
Until we fell in love and everything fell apart. Now everyone thinks I tried to sleep my way to the top and I can’t say I blame them when the evidence points to exactly that.
However, looks can be deceiving…
Blair McKenzie is the definition of perfect. She’s crazy talented and hot as…well, you get the point. But aside from all that, she has heart and in this business, heart is hard to come by.
In a moment of weakness, I had a lapse in judgment and nearly cost her everything.
Now I need to do the right thing. Except it feels wrong.
“How you holding up?” Maddie rubs her hands up and down my arms as I flick my fingers, trying to get the feeling back. I take a few steadying breaths. If I don’t get my breathing under control, I won’t be able to sing for shit.
Everything is riding on this. Everything. This is my one chance and if it doesn’t pan out, I need to knuckle down at school and give it my all. My dad wants me to follow in his footsteps and become a vet and take over our private game farm to look after the animals we have on our 1000-hectare land. I don’t hate studying to be a vet and I love helping my dad on the farm but performing is all I’ve ever wanted to do. It’s all I ever wanted since I was three years old. I sing constantly and drive people crazy. Well, except Maddie and Papaw, they love it.
Maddie frowns and takes a step back so she can extract her phone from her jeans, her blonde hair skims her shoulder as she smiles at the screen. “It’s Papaw.” She hands me the phone and I place it on speaker. It’s crazy loud backstage and we both lean in.
“Hey, Bubbles, I figured you wouldn’t have your phone so I tried Maddie’s. How are you doing, kiddo?”
“Oh, I’m good.” I can’t stop smiling. I know this call is costing him a small fortune being all the way from South Africa and I want to hug the phone to my chest.
“She’s lying. She’s wearing a hole in the floor with all the pacing.”
A light rap on the door has me sitting up an inch straighter before I remember I need to go slow and I wince. Son of a mothertrucker that hurt.
“You okay?” Dr. Dire is at my side in moments and I wonder if speedy bedside assist is something they teach in med school.
I inhale a sharp breath and distract myself the only way I know how. I allow my inner ramblings to take over. Cows go moo. The moon is not made of cheese. Twinkies are everything that’s wrong with life. Does Elicia judge me when I go too long between waxing? That reminds me, I’m so glad I got waxed the day before I left to come to South Africa, I don’t want to think about what Dr. Dire and his team sees when he fixes a hip. Do doctors sneak a peek when they operate? That would be unethical if they didn’t need to actually see said fun area right? I think I’d sneak a peek if the roles were reversed and Dr. Dire was my patient. I bet he’s packing. At least I hope he is—it would be a damn shame if he was this good looking and was running around with a teeny weeny. Damn, it’s a good thing I’m not a surgeon, my morals are down the shithole. I feel the heat creep up my cheeks and Dr. Dire presses the back of his hand to my cheek. Does he think I have a fever? Continue reading
I’m crossing a line.
I know it, Ian knows it, and by the looks of it, Linda and Mala do too. To be fair, the looks I get from them when I walk past their station are warranted. I’ve been in Jamie’s room four times in the last six hours when I know full well the drugs I gave her will keep her knocked out for closer to seven or eight.
I grab the iPad off the nurses’ station and don’t miss the raised eyebrows I get from Linda. I can’t blame them for being suspicious of my behavior. My shift just ended and I’ve been here for 42 hours. I should be heading home to get some shuteye.
“She’s still asleep,” Linda notes, nodding to where Jamie lies in her private room. A room I arranged for her.
“How’s she doing?” I stare at the vitals on the screen of the iPad so I don’t make eye contact. Continue reading
It feels like I’m lying on warm clouds as voices penetrate the warm glow. My eyes are too heavy to open so I stop trying.
“What are you doing, Marcus?” The voice sounds irritated and maybe a little resigned.
“I’m checking on my patient.”
“You and I both know that’s not what you’re doing. This is Siobhan all over again.”
Silence follows for a while and I think whoever it was must have left the room, but then the other voice answers—a beautiful baritone that I recognize, but this time it vibrates dangerously with anger.
“That’s not what’s happening.”
“Alright, man. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The voices drift further and further away and warmth takes over. Continue reading
Where the hell am I?
I don’t know if I’m hot or cold but what I’m clear on is the searing pain ripping through my pelvis and that hands are pressing me to a bed. Lights and yelling and squeaking shoes permeate my internal screaming as I try to make sense of what’s happening.
Why is it so bright in here?
Why is everyone rushing?
Why are so many hands touching me?
Cool hands touch my cheek and a blinding light is shone in my eye. I flinch and try to turn my face away but his hold is firm while being gentle at the same time. A face moves in front of my line of vision and the most incredible set of eyes lock with mine. Dark gray outlines the most incredible marble irises I’ve ever seen. Or maybe that’s just because I’m flashbulb-blind. Sweet Lord in heaven something hurts. Everything hurts.
“Jamie, I’m Dr. Dire. Do you know where you are?”