Heartstrings (A Rock Star Romance Novel) - By Hadley Danes Page 0,3
through me. The sight of my twenty one meals arrayed before me, the feel of my work uniform against my skin, the sheer predictability of my existence smacks me right in the kisser. I do love the life I’ve built for myself, but it can get a little depressing and monotonous sometimes. It’s like I’m on autopilot. The view is just fine, and the ride is comfortable, but there’s simply no room for spontaneity. And absolutely no excitement outside of work.
“Well, we can’t have it all, can we Gus?” I say to my feline companion, giving him a good scratch behind the ears. He purrs his agreement, and I try not to make too much of the fact that I’m alone in my house, having a conversation with my pet. Cat lady status suddenly seems much more imminent than it once did. But as ever, I have a job to do. There’s no time to sit around wondering about what my life might be like “if only...”. I should be grateful for everything that I have—a great job, a loving family, supportive friends. So what if I haven’t been on a successful date in...oh...six months or so? That’s what my vibrator is for. At least it never forgets to call back. Or expects me to make breakfast in the morning.
I hurry out to my newly-improved car and start off for work. As I drive through my neighborhood, waving to the moms and dads getting their kids off to school, I wonder whether I should be striving to get myself a family soon. As much as I love kids and people, I’m not in any rush. If there’s anything I feel like I’m missing out on, it’s my wild and crazy twenties. So many of my friends moved to the city after graduation, got barista and bar tending jobs rather than rushing into a set career. And though they certainly don’t have the job stability I do, they seem to have a lot more...fun. After three years at this job, I sometimes worry that I’m forgetting what fun is. These days, making avocado face masks from scratch and organizing my closet seems like fun.
I worry that I’m missing out on my rightful debaucheries, but there’s no time to dwell on it now. I sail into the hospital parking garage and hop out of my car. I’m right on time, as usual, but that doesn’t mean that I have the luxury of strolling. I push through the hospital doors and head for my station. The day nurses are getting their reports together, and I listen as the woman I’m relieving fills me in on the state of things in the ER. It had been a pretty quiet day, as far as things went. I hope that the night will continue on in relative peace, but don’t dare say it out loud. That kind of talk will jinx you in a second. I tuck my things into my locker and head back out into the unit, waiting to be put to use.
“Good morning, doll face,” says a chipper voice from behind the desk. I turn to see my fellow nurse Penny grinning back at me. Penny and I started in the ER at just about the same time, and bonded quickly over our mutual terror of messing something up. She’s always been the quintessential pretty nurse—if we’d lived in the forties, she would have been the one that all the soldiers wrote home about. Her hair is coppery red, hence her name, and with her high cheekbones and cute button nose, she’s far and away the prettiest person I’ve ever seen up close.
“You look like you’ve got a secret,” I tell her, sidling up to the desk.
She heaves a sigh and smiles wickedly. “I do have a bit of a dilemma, Julia.”
“Spill,” I say, savoring a couple minutes of girl talk before some catastrophe strikes.
“Well,” Penny says, “You remember that guy Jeremy I was dating?”
“The oncologist?” I ask.
“Yeah. Well, things are going OK with him, but I’ve sorta been seeing this other guy at the same time. His name’s Dylan. He’s an intern.”
“I’m definitely not seeing the dilemma,” I say. Even with our busy, chaotic work lives, Penny manages to keep a revolving door of lovers in her life.
“The thing is,” she whispers conspiratorially, “Jeremy just told me last night that he wants to try having a threesome with me and someone else.”