Page 4 of The Phyre that Burns

“Bubba’s not keeping you entertained enough?” I questioned teasingly.

“Please. This child of mine keeps me thoroughly entertained, but I want to talk to someone I can understand and who can understand me.”

We laughed, causing Bubba to do the same, as if he knew why we were laughing.

“What about the moms you met at the Mom and Me group?”

Devyn rolled her eyes. “They’re cool, but they’re not you. I miss you when you’re gone.”

“I miss you too, sis. You know I rarely make friends on these assignments, so we’re in the same boat. At least you got Bubba and Tariq. Ain’t that right, nephew?”

I kissed his chubby cheeks, and he giggled. He was the cutest and sweetest baby boy I’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was rarely unhappy, and there seemed to be a permanent, almost toothless grin on his face.

“When is your next assignment?” Devyn asked.

“Actually, that’s one of the reasons I came over.”

“Oh no. You’re scaring me.”

“It’s not bad . . . at least I don’t think so, but you might feel differently.”

“Okay. Let me hear it.”

“I was offered a six-month assignment in Cali.”

“Six months? Cali . . . as in California?”

I nodded. “Black Elm to be exact.”

Her eyes widened. “No way! Black Elm? Oh my God. I haven’t heard that city’s name in years. Are you considering it?”

“I am. You know I loved it there.”

“You also vowed to never go back. Are you sure?”

“Spending the late fall and winter months in Cali doesn’t sound bad, and the money they’re offering is enough for me to take six months off when I get back.”

“Yeah, but you won’t, so that doesn’t matter. Did it say what hospital?”

“It’s in the Black Elm University Hospital network, but I’ll be working with a private doctor who has a nurse practitioner taking an extended leave.”

Devyn looked at me with concern in her eyes. I absolutely loved 90 percent of the time I spent in Black Elm and honestly hadn’t planned to move back to Chicago after I graduated from the university. My reason for leaving had nothing to do with the city.

“Do you know the name of the private doctor?”

“No. It wasn’t in the initial email, but I know what you’re thinking, and it can’t be his office.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s not an ob-gyn.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s not what he was pursuing. If I remember correctly, he wanted to do general health or pediatrics.”

“Okay, but what if you run into him?”

“Black Elm is small, but not that small. Besides, even if I do, he’s probably married with three kids, living in a mansion on the outskirts of town.”