Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

Jordan

Jordan blinked. He felt like a bird that had just run full-tilt into a sparkling glass window. Rhonda. That was her name. He’d asked a few people at the bar that night, but they weren’t sure, and he wasn’t going to waltz over and ask Sean.

She sat stiffly on the edge of the exam table, looking pale and drawn, her breathing shallow. Some guy stood next to her, one hand resting on her shoulder, and he was rattling off the details like he had intimate knowledge of her life.

“She’s having an allergic reaction,” the guy was saying. “We think it was peanuts in the sauce.”

No shit. Jordan’s eyes flicked over him, assessing. Tall. Built. The guy’s hand on Rhonda’s shoulder, trying to look like he could do anything to help this situation. What an asshole.

Jordan stepped closer, keeping his gaze firmly on Rhonda, who was still looking at him like a deer in headlights. A deer with severe facial edema. “How long ago did this start?” He kept his voice steady. Cool. Professional.

“A few minutes,” the guy answered, but Jordan barely registered the response. His focus was solely on getting her stable. “She only took a few bites of dinner.” Her date shifted, fingers brushing over her arm like he was trying to comfort her.

Jordan gave a curt nod, barely acknowledging him, eyes on Rhonda as he reached out and took an epinephrine auto-injector from Ally, the nurse at the counter next to him. He sat on the stool and rolled up to her, sitting close enough he could feel her shaking. He put a hand on her thigh, hoping her date was watching.

“Rhonda, we’ve got this,” he said, voice low and calm. “This’ll get you breathing better in just a few seconds.” She nodded once, and her fingers gripped the edge of the table. Tight.

He administered the epinephrine with a single quick motion, inserting the needle through her jeans on her outer thigh, then scanned her face for a reaction. It was ridiculous the way his chest tightened at the sight of her like this. Just a patient. That’s all she was supposed to be tonight.

The guy next to her cleared his throat, and Jordan left his hands on her a few seconds longer than necessary just to screw with him.

Ally turned from the counter. “This is an albuterol inhaler. Have you used one before?” Rhonda nodded, her pupils already dilating from the shot. “Great, so take one deep breath and hold, okay?”

Ally held the inhaler to her lips, and Rhonda took it like a pro. Jordan turned, grabbing the IV kit from the counter, all of it muscle memory at this point. Assessing her veins took only a second. He scanned the inner crook of her elbow, spotting a prominent vein that barely needed a tap to rise to the surface.

His fingers grazed her skin as he positioned the needle. “Little pinch,” he murmured. “You’re doing great.” A quick swipe with the antiseptic, and he was in, sliding the needle into her vein with the kind of smooth, practiced precision that made the whole thing look effortless. He secured the IV, glancing briefly to make sure the line was running smoothly.

Rhonda’s date leaned in, and Jordan’s voice came out sharper than he intended. “Give her a little space, eh?” Ally gave him a look, and he stepped back, too. Rhonda’s wheeze was gone, but she was shaking. That was fine. A normal response to the epinephrine.

Jordan opened the cupboard behind him and pulled out a blanket. He laid it over her lap, tucking in the edges a little more than necessary. "What did you eat?"

Rhonda swallowed hard, pressing her fingers to her still-swollen lips. That was going to take a few hours to go back to normal. “Indian food. I can’t remember exactly what we ordered?—”

“Biryani, vindaloo, naan, and butter chicken.” The guy next to her piped up. “The waiter said there weren’t any peanuts.”

Jordan set down the clipboard. "Fenugreek.”

Rhonda's eyes widened. "What?"

"Some chefs put fenugreek in butter chicken. Seeds or powder."

Rhonda blinked. "Okay, and?"

Jordan dispensed hand sanitizer and rubbed it between his palms out of habit. "Fenugreek is in the same family as peanuts. If you're allergic to peanuts, there's a good chance you'll react to fenugreek." Rhonda's mouth opened, then closed. "It's not common knowledge. I only know because of my sister. She has a peanut allergy and found out the hard way."

Jordan picked up her chart. Peanut allergy. It was noted. “Is this your boyfriend?” He didn’t look up.

“Uh . . .” Rhonda hesitated.

“Blind date. I’m Aaron.” The dude put out a hand, and Jordan glanced up from the clipboard. He shook it then reached for more sanitizer.

Rhonda exhaled and leaned back against the reclined chair. “It was a double date. My other friends are still in the waiting room.”

Jordan turned to Ally. “Can you get this chart approved with Dr. Petrov? I’m guessing he’s going to want Benadryl and Solu-Medrol before we discharge.”

Ally nodded, taking the chart and exiting the room. They had other patients needing attention, and they only had one doctor on staff for the next couple of hours. Rhonda probably wouldn’t meet Petrov in person.

Jordan nodded toward the door. “Aaron, you can go get your other friends. Tell them she’s stable. They can come see her.”

Aaron hesitated a moment, then glanced at Rhonda. She nodded, and he shuffled past the two of them and exited into the hall.

Rhonda dropped her head back. "What a shitty date.”

Jordan pointed back at the door. “Because of that guy? Yeah. I get it.” Rhonda laughed, then winced and pressed her non-IV hand to her forehead. “You might be a little out of it for a bit.”

She turned her head to look at him. “Thank you.”

Jordan wheeled the stool over to the computer, putting a few notes into her chart. "Just doing my job."

“Yeah. I didn’t know you were a . . . doctor?”

“Nurse.” He glanced over, and to her credit, she kept a smirk off her face. “Just say it.” There it was. A puffy-ass grin.

“Say what?”

“I know you’re thinking it.”

She laughed through her next words. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“Bull shit.” He turned from the computer, smirking.

Rhonda pursed her lips. “Okay, I might’ve been thinking that it’s kind of funny?—”

“Funny how, exactly?”

She groaned. “You’re going to make me say this?”

“Definitely.”

She lifted her head. “It’s funny because you’re this, like, hot, built hockey player.”

“And hot, built hockey players can’t be nurses?” He deadpanned.

Rhonda grinned. “You’re the worst.”

“You’re smiling. Plus I got you to admit you think I’m hot. I win.” He stood up from the stool.

She scoffed, ignoring him. “I think it’s the name. ‘Nurse’ sounds so feminine. They should have a different title, like ‘emergency responder’ or something.”

“That’s an actual job.”

“Well, you know what I’m saying.”

Jordan grabbed the blood pressure cuff and sidled up to her. He reached for her wrist and wrapped the cuff around her arm, then pressed his stethoscope against the bend in her elbow. “You have to breathe.”

“Right.” Rhonda swallowed hard.

“It’s a little high.” Jordan flicked his eyes to her. “Probably the epinephrine.”

“Mmm. Yep.”

Jordan slung the stethoscope around his neck and stepped back so she couldn’t hear his own heart hammering in his chest. The door to the room swung in, and there was Aaron with Bouchard and his physical therapist girlfriend. Penny, was it?

“Hey, Copper.” Jordan grabbed his clipboard and waited for them to fully enter the room.

Penny’s eyes opened in surprise. “Oh, hey. Jordan, right?” He nodded, and Brett’s jaw tensed. “You work here?”

“I mostly work at Rocky Ridge, but I pick up shifts here off and on,” he said. Penny’s mouth fell open, and her head swung to Rhonda. Rhonda’s eyes were narrowed, boring into him. “Ah, alright then. I’ll be back in a few.” Jordan rapped his knuckles on the countertop, then got the hell out of there before something else happened that he had no explanation for. He sucked in a deep breath and released it, shaking out his hands as he walked back to the nurse’s station.

“You were right, as usual.” Ally waited for him, holding two IV bags in her arms. “Want me to administer it?”

Jordan nodded. He didn’t want to walk back in there two seconds after he left, even though the pull to ditch his shift and sit bedside next to Rhonda for the rest of the night felt worse than watching Burrows in game seven, 2011, stickhandling in double overtime.

He forced himself to take his time making his rounds, giving the Benadryl Ally administered a chance to kick in. When he got back to the room a half hour later, Rhonda’s eyelids were drooping. She smiled when he walked in, and his chest clenched. The bed was reclined, the lights dimmed, and she looked so small on the bed, her dark curls spreading out like a halo on the crappy pillow.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Her words were slurred together as she reached out her hand, and Jordan’s breath caught in his throat. For a split second, he thought she was reaching out for him before her hand landed on Aaron’s arm.

Jordan’s eye twitched. He cleared his throat and inspected the numbers on her pulse ox. “Your oxygen levels are good. The meds in your IV will prevent a secondary reaction.”

“That happens?” Penny asked.

He nodded. “Sometimes.” The three of them were crammed in like sardines. Bouchard and Aaron were half sitting on the counter.

“How much longer will she need to be here?” Bouchard asked.

“I’m going to stay here for a while. I can’t move my legs.” Rhonda grinned, and Jordan’s stomach did a backflip.

“That’s the Benadryl. It’s doing its job.” He willed his voice to steady and crossed his arms in front of him. “Shouldn’t be more than another half hour now that everything looks good. She’ll be sleepy. She can’t drive.”

“I can drive her car home,” Penny offered, and Bouchard nodded. Penny leaned back and put a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you two go out to the waiting room? I’ll stay here with her, and we’ll meet you out there . . . ”

Jordan snuck out before they did. He tapped his pen against his palm then walked to the next room. He checked in with Ms. Simmons, a woman in her sixties who was battling a bladder infection, and updated her chart. He discussed her treatment plan with Dr. Petrov and noted her medication adjustments.

Next, he visited a man in his forties with a fractured wrist. He checked his vitals, made sure his pain was under control, and updated his records. At the nurse’s station, he reviewed the notes from the previous shift and added his observations. He grabbed a coffee and a couple of non-peanut granola bars from the break room, then headed back to the printer. Rhonda’s discharge paperwork was there, so he snagged that, too, and walked to her room.

He paused at the door at the sound of conversation.

“I think that’s the Benadryl talking.” Penny laughed.

“You don’t think he’s hot?” Rhonda sighed. “Probably because you’re betrothed or whatever.”

Penny chortled. “Okay, I’m definitely filming now.”

“Staaahp.”

Jordan pushed the door open and stepped in, wishing he could ask who Rhonda was talking about. He was just going to believe it was him. That was best for his ego.

Jordan set the granola bars on the counter. “Alright, looks like you’re good to go. Brought these in case you need a snack.” He might’ve been listening when her blind date said she only got two bites of dinner.

Penny smiled and took two bars as Rhonda sat up. Her face was mostly back to normal. It looked like she had just a hint of lip filler. A surprising sense of relief washed over him.

He blinked and handed the papers off to Penny. He was about to launch into instructions for her care overnight but hesitated and turned to Rhonda. “Do you have anyone, um, someone at home with you? That could watch you overnight?”

Rhonda threw up her free hand. “Ugh, now it’s you, too? Is everyone just going to keep rubbing it in my face that I’m going to die alone in my house?”

Penny snorted, her phone camera still rolling. “Rhonda, I think?—”

“Do you want to come watch me overnight, Jordan? Would that make you more comfortable?” Rhonda slapped her hand on the bed next to her.

Jordan wet his lips, trying not to laugh. "So. Might be a good idea to let her crash on your couch.”

“Yeah.” Penny tried to keep a straight face.

“Keep an eye out for any other symptoms. She's had her dose of Benadryl and steroids, but if she starts to have trouble breathing or you notice any swelling, get her back here immediately."

Penny nodded, her expression sobering. She dropped her phone. "Got it. And if she wakes up in the night?"

"Just make sure she's comfortable. She can take another dose of Benadryl if she needs it, but it might make her a bit groggy in the morning. Everything’s on the paperwork."

“Mmkay. Thanks for all your help, Jordan."

“No problem.” He stood in front of the bed and locked eyes with Rhonda. He didn’t want to say anything that would incriminate her. She’d made it clear at the bar that she didn’t want anyone on the Snowballs to know they knew each other. But he also couldn’t leave without giving her some kind of message. “Hope you feel better soon. If you need anything, I guess you know where to find me.”

Rhonda slow-blinked like a cat. “I guess I do.”

“Oookay, let’s get you out of here.” Penny stood and helped Rhonda from the bed. Jordan turned toward the door, then stopped when Penny asked, “How’s the shoulder?”

Jordan turned back. “Like new.” He rotated it to prove his point.

Rhonda’s jaw dropped. “You know about his shoulder?” She shot daggers at him. “Did you two?—”

“Physical therapy.” Jordan cut her off before she could expose their history. “Last year. She treated my shoulder. I think she does have a thing for hockey players, though.”

Rhonda was still glaring at Penny. Jordan left before he could hear the end of that conversation, a smug smile still on his face. She was jealous. She thought he was hot, and she didn’t want another woman touching his shoulders. Jordan made a quick trip to the washroom to splash water on his face. He still had two hours left on his shift, and he was currently pitching an average size tent in his scrubs.