Page 14 of Undeniably Corrupt (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires #7)

“ P ull the skin taut and make sure the bevel of the needle is up. At a forty-five-degree angle-ish, slip the needle into the vein and look for the flashback of blood. There. Good. You got it.” My preceptor beams, and some of the nerves that were pumping a ridiculous amount of adrenaline through me ebb.

“Now advance the catheter while withdrawing the needle. After that, we need to secure the line and hook it up to the tubing so we can start the drip.”

I blow out the breath I had been holding as I cover the insertion site with the Tegaderm and twist the end of the primed line on. She walks me through how to start the pump and makes sure we have it running correctly.

“That was great,” she praises. “Now you can get the doctor and let him know his patient is ready for him.”

It’s a thirty-year-old with a Crohn’s flare, and the man is not happy. Thankfully, he’s used to having IVs inserted and held still for me.

“Okay. Thanks for letting me do that. Who’s the doctor?”

She glances at the computer beside us. “Dr. Kincaid.”

“Which one is he again? ”

She gives me a Cheshire grin. “He’s the chief. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes, gorgeous.”

“Aren’t they all?” I quip but go in search of Dr. Kincaid, who’s standing in front of a computer with an intense expression as he reads whatever it is he’s reading on the screen. Tall and stupidly handsome, everyone who walks past him naturally does a double take.

“Dr. Kincaid?”

His blue eyes cast away from his computer and take me in for a moment, studying me, and then a smile blooms across his face in recognition. “Hi. It’s Liora, right?”

He glances down at my badge, but I nod to save him the trip.

“Yes. Your patient in room ten is ready for you.”

“Great. Thanks.” He logs out of the computer and comes in beside me. “How are you liking it here?”

I’m a little taken aback by how personable—almost familiar—he’s being with me, but then I remember he’s the chief of the department and likely wants to make sure all the staff are happy. “It’s good, thanks.”

He chuckles. “You can relax, Liora. My girlfriend is Wren Fritz, and I’m friends with Vander.”

Of course he is. Because why should this week start any better than last week? For three years in this city, I never ran into Vander or any of his people, and now it’s like I can’t escape them.

“Oh. Okay, then.” Clearly Vander is telling his friends about me working for him.

He chuckles. “That’s not a selling point for you, I see.”

I shrug. I’m not sure what to say. I don’t want to say anything negative about Vander. Not only is he my boss, and I don’t know Jack from anyone, but they’re friends.

“Well, forgetting Vander, I’m glad you’re here. ”

I smile. “Me too. Thank you for that. I hope I wasn’t rude just now.”

“Not at all. I have to imagine your situation with him is tricky enough without other people jumping in on it. Now catch me up on where we are with the patient.”

I finish reviewing what I know of the patient, and Jack goes in and examines him before GI is consulted.

By the time I leave the hospital, I’m practically skipping. I started that IV on my own, I checked my grades and saw I got an A on my last pharmacology exam, and the daycare called to say that Hazel made a little friend in her group and used the potty all on her own.

It’s Monday, and I don’t have to be back at the club until Thursday night, and to ice this cake, I should get my first paycheck from Monroe Securities next Wednesday.

Just in time for my final tuition payment of the semester.

I don’t know yet how the reimbursement works, but that’s the next thing I’ll look into.

I’m hoping I can scrape together enough to move us out of our building in the next month or so, but we’ll see.

Everything in Boston is crazy expensive and requires first month, last month, and security before they’ll even let you look at a place.

My credit is fine, but I have a lot of debt I’m struggling to pay off from Mattia, so that doesn’t look good.

Whatever. One thing at a time. And so far, today’s a good day.

And shockingly, it doesn’t stop when I get to the office and find Vander’s door shut with a note that says, “In case of emergency, knock on someone else’s door.”

It makes me laugh, and I gleefully head to my office to start in on his emails. Champagne spent a good amount of time last week training me on everything, and I feel somewhat confident doing this.

An hour later, I’m finished with his emails and have scheduled meetings and other things for Vander for next week. I stand to stretch and scream at the top of my lungs, so startled I stumble back against my chair that goes shooting out from behind me straight into the wall while I fall on my ass.

Ow . Not to mention my skirt is up around my waist. Awesome.

Hopefully the desk is blocking enough that he can’t see. Awkwardly, I roll to my knees and use the desk to help me up.

Vander is casually leaning against the frame of the door, arms folded, one foot arched over the other, expression stoic and unreadable. “You startle easily. Where did that come from?”

My hand covers my chest over my pounding heart, though I can feel a healthy blush staining my cheeks. “Warn a girl before you sneak up on her. You’re lucky I didn’t have a weapon.”

“I think that’s likely lucky for both of us since you fell on your ass.”

Jerk . “How long have you been standing there?”

“Do you ever not wear color?”

I glance down at my yellow blouse and royal blue skirt and glance back up at him with a shrug. “Only when I’m stripping.”

He frowns, but I don’t know why he’s asking that. It’s not new, and he knows that about me, so I give him the same answer I’d give him whenever he’d tease me for being bright.

“Color is my happy place. We’re from Maine. The sky is gray ninety percent of the time, and everything else is green and brown unless you’re on the water, and then it’s gray and blue.”

“Come for a ride with me.”

It’s not a request. It’s a demand .

“A ride?”

“You’ll be back in time to get Hazel. Pack your laptop. We’ll take the big bike.”

With that, he turns and walks away from my office.

The big bike ? As in a motorcycle? A weird sort of laugh flees my lungs. I haven’t been on a motorcycle since I was a teenager, and yes, the last time was with him. I can’t go on a motorcycle with him. I’m a single mother. And I’m in a skirt. Road rash isn’t an accessory I want to wear.

Yet I’m disconnecting my laptop from its cables and slipping it into a bag that’s miraculously on the floor just waiting for me when I’m positive it wasn’t there Friday. I need to tell him no, but how do I do that? He’s my boss.

I stare balefully down at the flirty fabric of my skirt when he’s back in my office. “You’re going to make us late.”

I glance up, my hand furiously working my bracelet around and around. “I’m a single mother.”

He tilts his head. “I’m aware.”

“If something happens to me, Hazel is in foster care with no other family to care for her.”

“Care to explain why that is when you have two parents in Maine?”

Shit. “Vander, you have to promise me I won’t die!”

He doesn’t crack a smile, and there’s no teasing in his tone when he says, “I promise I’d never let anything bad ever happen to you.”

Well then.

“Where are we going?”

“To a meeting. It’s faster on my bike.”

“And did you take Champagne on your bike to meetings?”

He smirks. It’s a dirty, sexy as all fuck curve of his lips, and with the stubble he has going on and those green eyes… yeah. Finding your boss hot sucks.

“Champagne never liked to ride the way you do. Come on. ”

Bastard.

I follow him like a puppy obeying its master. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him . “I hate you.”

He chuckles as he walks ahead of me toward the elevator. That’s it. Just that stupid laugh.

“I do. I hate you.”

He shrugs. “You should. I’m a total dick.”

I slip in beside him as we wait for the elevator. “I didn’t use that word. I think I would have gone with mercurial, deceitful, manipulative?—”

“Dick.”

I shrug. “If you say so, I won’t argue. I’ve already been more up close and personal with him than I’d care to be, though I haven’t seen him in the flesh in the last ten years, so that’s a win.”

“Are you sexually harassing me?”

“You’re the one talking about your dick,” I quip.

But he’s in no mood for jokes. “I officially ruined your trust in all men.” He throws me a side-eye, and my face heats a little at that.

I forgot I said that to him, but clearly he didn’t.

I get a small twinge of guilt for it, but he presses on before I can say anything to that. “Did you ever tell anyone about us?”

The change in topic throws me, and I turn to him, staring up at his profile. “Tell anyone?”

“When we were kids. I know you told the people here in the office, but did you ever tell anyone back home we were together?”

Uneasiness hits me at the way he asks me that. “No. You know I didn’t. Cassian would have killed you, and my father would have burst an aneurysm. Though in retrospect, I wouldn’t have minded the latter.”

His expression grows pensive. “Why is that?”

I shake my head. I really need to watch my mouth around him .

“You used to tell me everything,” he throws back at me.

“I was girlish and had pastel pink hearts in my eyes. I’m older and wiser now.”

“I’m your boss. You have to tell me.”

“I don’t, as it’s my personal business and not the company's.”

“I could fire you.”

I roll my eyes at him as we step onto the elevator. “You won’t. You want me too bad.”

He laughs, the sound almost hollow. “How do you mean there, Angel?”

I start ticking things off on my fingers. “Begging for me to work for you, apologizing for your bad behavior, a cool office with play stuff for my kid, breaking the nose of the guy in my neighborhood, and now, ‘Come for a ride with me,’” I mock his voice.

“You think I have a thing for you again?”