I knew the message was harsh, but I didn’t give a shit. Call out on her first full day? Was she nuts? What kind of business did she think I was running? I watched my phone, waiting for the message to be read. Waiting for those three little dots to start bouncing up and down. However, the message was never read, and the dots never appeared.
So, I called.
“The number you have reached does not have a mailbox that is—”
I hung up the phone and stood to my feet. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and tried calling again, but when my call went unanswered, I felt my anger swallow me whole. If that woman didn’t want to speak face to face, then I’d go to her place and fire her in person to show her exactly how she needed to communicate with her fucking boss.
So, I threw a T-shirt on, wrapped myself up in a robe, and made my way for the front door.
I didn’t even bother calling a cab. I needed to burn out some of this anger on the road, so I grabbed the keys to my Audi convertible. I revved the engine and sped out of my driveway, peeling away so quickly that burnt-rubber smoke kicked up into the air. I raced to my place of work before I dug her address out of my employee files, and the next thing I knew, I was standing in front of her door, and the damned thing was wide open.
“Leslie?” I gripped my keys between my fingers as the hair on the nape of my neck stood on end. “Leslie? You here?”
I eased myself into the small townhouse and wondered how in the hell anyone could move around in this place. It was so tiny, and the furniture was so massive that I felt myself bumping into corners that I felt shouldn’t have even existed in the first place. I was definitely an open-concept kind of guy, and this place had a wall for every fucking room and then some.
“Leslie!” I called out.
I checked every room and found no one there, except for the heavy stench of vomit. It curdled my stomach and dredged up a fear inside of me that I’d never experienced before. I walked back to the front door and peeked around outside, trying to see if some sort of intruder was attempting to escape the premises. But, when I didn’t see anything suspicious, I ripped my phone out and called Leslie once more.
And that’s when she picked up.
“Yes?” she asked breathlessly.
I barked my words at her. “Where are you?”
“What do you mean, where am I?”
“I’m at your place, and the damn door’s wide open. Where are you, Leslie?”
She paused. “Why the hell are you at my place?”
I scoffed. “Why the hell aren’t you answering my calls? Where are you? We need to talk.”
“Look, Trey, I really can’t talk right—”
Then, an intercom came on in the background, and I knew exactly where she was.
“Dr. Campbell, you are needed in the OR. Dr. Campbell, please report to OR 2 immediately.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. “I’ll be there soon?”
Leslie spoke quickly. “Trey, seriously. I don’t need you here. I can bring my laptop to the hospital tomorrow to work so I don’t have to miss any—”
I hung up on her, closed her townhouse door, and sprinted for my car. I hopped inside without even closing the door all the way, and I sped off toward the closest hospital. I swerved into a parking space and charged through the emergency room doors, trying to figure out where the fuck I was supposed to be.
And after speaking with three nurses and one very tired resident, I found Leslie sitting in a waiting room.
While she cried into her hands.
“She’s gonna be okay,” a woman beside her murmured, “Rori’s strong. She’s got this, and so do you.”
I blinked, pulling myself out of my disarmed trance. “Leslie.”
Her head whipped up, and her reddened eyes broke my heart. “Trey?”
I walked over to her and sat down. “What’s going on?”
She furrowed her brow. “Why in the world are you—”
