Jillian Chantal

The Tuesday Tales word of the week this week is stairs. I had a couple of uses of this word but chose to use one closest to last week’s post to keep myself from jumping too far ahead since that tends to get someone I love a little confused (LOL). Be sure to check out the other tales here. 

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Choosing her wardrobe proved problematic. She hadn’t seen a weather forecast but knew the night would be colder than the day. Turning on the television, she stood in front of the screen and watched the weatherman for a few moments.

Snow was predicted for north of the city but only freezing weather for Manhattan. “There goes showing off my sexy red toenails,” Lanett said to the meteorologist. She pulled a pair of thick black leggings from her top drawer as well as a pair of knee socks to hide under her over the knee boots. No sense in freezing to death on the way to the bar. She’d worry about being overheated inside when she got there. It wouldn’t be the first time she had to shed garments in a building.

Disgusted with the fact that she couldn’t wear one of the new spring dresses she bought at Macy’s the week before, Lanett pulled on one of her sweater dresses. She chose the black and grey striped one that she adored but was a wee bit tired of since the season seemed to be dragging on.

Once she was ready, Lanett made a face at herself in the mirror. “Let’s hope the doctor doesn’t mind a lady dressed in black.” She laughed. “If I was a man, I would be Johnny Cash.”

Realizing she was being lame, she stuck her tongue out at her reflection. “Please don’t say anything that stupid at the bar. Please.”

Grabbing her coat on the way out, Lanett dashed to the subway station and down the stairs, shocked at how much colder it had gotten since she was out earlier in the day.

Arriving at the bar, Lanett opened the door and the gush of warm air smacking her in the face was almost painful. Her face burned at the sudden change in temperature. Shaking her hair out after removing her hat, she said to Simon, who had arrived at her side, “It’s brutal out there. What happened to spring?”

“She called and said she wasn’t ready to come off her Caribbean vacation yet.”

“If she doesn’t get her soon, I’m going to have to join her down there. Too bad I have a massive project due at work next week or I’d set off on a search and rescue mission and drag her back by the hair.”

“You’d be doing us all a favor, love. I sell more beer in the warm months than I do now. I need the boost in revenues.”

“Is Ian here yet?” Lanett glanced around.

Tuesday Tales are a series of tales written by a select group of authors using a different word or picture prompt every week. For this week, the word is address. Be sure to check out the other stories here.

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“I thought maybe you and I could go and grab some dinner. We’ve both worked so hard this week and it might be fun to have a nice meal and a glass of wine.”

Taken aback at the nurse’s brazenness, Ian stood in stunned silence for a few seconds. When he finally found his voice, he said, “Sorry. I have a policy against seeing coworkers outside the office unless it’s an official outing.”

She turned a shade of red that Ian had never seen before. It was disconcerting to say the least but he turned away to reach for the doorknob.

A hand grabbed onto his bicep.

Ian whirled around and through gritted teeth, said, “I suggest you remove your hand right this minute.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t? You can’t fire me.” Nancy smirked as if she had him right where she wanted him.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“I can’t imagine why you’d think you could do anything to me at all. I have the upper hand here, not you.”

“How dare you address me in this manner.” Stunned at her tone, Ian stood in shock for a second.

“I’ll speak to you any way I want. I have job security like you’ll never know. Try to have me fired. You’ll never do it. In fact, you should polish off your own resume or better, yet, get yourself back to England. I’m a dangerous enemy to make.”

Ian crossed his arms, trying to decide whether to continue in this ridiculous conversation or make a break for home and some peace and quiet. And a bit of wine.

Before he could come to any conclusion, Nancy shoved him in the chest.

Startled and stunned by the physical altercation yet being too much of a gentleman to retaliate, he turned and jerked on the door knob. Once the door was open, Ian stepped out to the parking lot and over to his car.

Nancy called out after him, “Go on and run away. You’re a lame excuse for a man.”

This week’s word is arm. What a great word to use in romance novels. What could be better than the hero putting his arm around the heroine? That being said, that’s not what I did in my snippet. *smiles*  – Be sure to check out the other stories here.

The rest of the week passed quickly for Ian. He had several emergencies that required him to admit patients to the hospital which then necessitated consulting with specialists on their behalf. And there was the matter of having to check on them himself by morning and evening rounds.

Before Ian knew it, Friday arrived and he hadn’t called Lanett since he dropped her off at her place. Feeling a bit guilty and more than a little apprehensive, he found her name on the contact list on his phone and pressed the button to connect the call.

It rang four times and Ian decided she must recognize the number and not want to pick up. Sad that she would hold a grudge over the lack of contact, he ended the call and tucked his phone into the chest pocket on his shirt. Tugging off his medical coat and tossing it on the back of the chair he’d just vacated, Ian stepped toward the door to exit his office. The phone in his shirt vibrated against his chest, startling him.

In his haste to snatch it from the pocket to see if it was Lanett, he almost dropped the thing. In his effort to stop it from crashing to the floor, Ian whacked the crap out of his elbow as it hit the side of the wall. He cried out, “Bugger, bugger, bugger.”

Hearing a voice coming from the speaker, Ian placed the receiver to his ear. “Sorry. I hit my arm on the wall.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Well, not that you hurt yourself but that you didn’t call me after all this time just to curse at me.”

Lanett sounded amused but Ian wasn’t quite sure if she was. “No. I didn’t ring you to do that. Thanks for returning the call. I actually owe you an apology.”

“You do?”

“I sure do. I planned to talk to you before now but it’s been a week full of too much work and not enough leisure.”

“It’s all right. I didn’t expect your undying loyalty after one dinner.” She laughed.

Ian was glad she wasn’t mad and apparently not one of those women who demanded way too much attention for someone as dedicated to his work as he. That was the fastest path to a relationship not working in his opinion.