After that encounter, I opted not to visit him anymore. It was for the better.
Yikes! That guy gives me the creeps. A creep but not the scary kind.
A creep that makes you think of hot rumble, tumble in the bedroom.
Oh my! Another naughty thoughts again.
Ever since I learned his name, I learned that the guy in my dreams exists in real life, I was having vivid, erotic dreams about him. More and frequently.
They were just all about him.
I thought at first, if ever I got to see him, talk to him in person, my dreams of him will end.
It would stop on its own accord.
But no, it didn't.
It doubled in frequency now and they were starting to scare me.
I know he was still admitted in the hospital for his name wasn't deleted from the hospital's admission computer system. He was no longer in the Neuro ICU department but admitted at one of the largest private VIP rooms at the 11th floor of the building. He should be discharged by now. He was well-mended.
Maybe he was trying to escape work? That was a good excuse of staying in a hospital, right?
I laughed to myself at that. I wished I could do that, too. It wasn't as if I was complaining for I love my job but sometimes it can be so hard. I had bills to pay so stopping from work was out of the options. I was paying my student loan and I promised Mom I was going to help her pay for Tori's school fees.
Tori, that's my youngest sister.
My morning shift was over and I was on my way to the locker room, when my friend Dionne called my attention.
"You have a phone call, Nic." I nodded and thanked her. Then I headed back to the station, carrying my handbag in tow.
"Nic here." I said. Placing the phone receiver on my left shoulder.
"Why didn't you come back here? I told you to come back, Nicolaa." There was no mistaking whose voice that was from.
"I'm sorry, who's on the line please?", I asked with a huffed and my left eyebrow arch. This handsome and rich guy should know his place.
"You better know who it is you're talking to right now. I've been very patient with you, Nicolaa. I waited fo--", he sounded mad so I got pissed, too.
"Oh yeah? Well, who told you to wait? You're fine now, they should have sent you home a week ago!", I berated him defiantly.
I was so angry, my voice was raised a notch. My colleagues were looking at me incredulously puzzled.
I never acted this way to any of my patients but this particular patient was really making the vein in my head tick.
"So you know who it is you're talking to", there's a trace of amusement in his voice.
Oh my!
"No but I got a hint", I answered gruffly, then he laughed.
"I want you here in ten minutes." Then dial tone.
He dropped the call on me again.
How rude?!
"Fuck!", I muttered to myself crisply.
I place the phone down and said, "Who do you think you are? Hmp!", then I went to the locker room and took off.
With my people gawking at me, unblinkingly.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
I was inside the elevator heading to the ground floor of the building when I recalled our phone conversation.
He said ten minutes.
Well, let him wait till tomorrow. I'm going home.
But then my frown deepened.
What will he do if I won't show up?
I bit my lower lip and I started to fidget.
Against my better judgment, I decided something I might regret soon.
I pushed the 11th floor button and started praying.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
"Hi Nimfa, can I go inside?", I asked the nurse on duty in that private station. He was transferred there approximately four days after my last visit with him in the ICU.
"What's wrong?", Nimfa asked. I wasn't aware I was frowning deeply at her.
"Oops! Sorry I... I was just tired from work today and I think I forgot my keys inside the locker room". I gave a small fake laugh.
"You may go in anytime." Then she dashed away.
My frown must have scared her.
I walked thru the lobby to his large VIP patient room.
I stood there infront of the door for 20 seconds trying to decide if I was going to knock or just turn away.
"The door won't open if you won't turn the knob", an amused voice sounded from inside.
I sighed then went in.
The room was vast and it took me atleast 5 seconds to locate him. He was sitting on the sofa at the left side of the room and not on his bed. His long legs were crossed, face supported by his right thumb and his index finger was steadily rubbing his sexy pout.
He was clearly surveying me with his blue eyes.
He looked better.
So perfectly well that it baffled me.
What's keeping him here?
"What can I do for you, Mr. Morrison?", I asked him pointedly.
I sounded irritated.
I didn't know what came over me?
"You." He said matter of factly.
Then silence.
I waited for him to speak. Explain his intentions but when he didn't, I continued.
"I'm a very busy woman Mr. Morrison and sad to say playing along with your games is not included in my duties".
He sat up straight and clasped his hands together.
"Who says I'm playing, Miss James? Do you think I'm playing games with my staying here and waiting for you, Nicolaa?"
I didn't answer.
I was so shocked to learn that he spoke to me so familiarly.
"So, are you insinuating that bumping my car and meeting an accident was also a part of a game?", he continued.
His perfectly shaped eyebrows raised, his handsome face laced with bemusement.
I frowned. Taken aback.
"What?! I don't know what it isyou want from me. I—"
"I want you to work for me. I want you to be my own private nurse, Miss Nicolaa James", he proposed.
He gave me an evil grin after saying that.