"Goddamn it, Ernie," the first man yells. "You need to watch where you're going."
"No, you need to watch where you're going," the other guy yells back. "Fuckin' blind as a bat, you are."
I snicker as I watch the two men trying to disentangle their chairs that are now stuck to each other near the footrests. The receptionist looks alarmed but like she doesn't have a clue what to do. I think she might stand up and try to assist, but then one of the nurses--I'm guessing by the fact she's wearing cranberry-colored scrubs--jogs up to the men and with some murmured words and her hands to their shoulders gets them to stop yelling. She then squats down, pulls the chairs apart, and sends the men on their way in opposite directions.
When she stands up and turns toward me and Hawke, my breath freezes in my lungs as I recognize her.
The beautiful woman from the convenience store last week.
Julianne is her name.
She doesn't see me because she's walking with her head down as she makes her way through the lobby and out the doors, carrying a brown paper bag with her.
"Holy shit," I say as I stand up from the couch, my legs involuntarily walking after her.
I'm not in the least bit ashamed to say I went back to that little convenience store three more times, hoping to catch her on duty again, but she was never there. I'd honestly given up after that third time, figuring she maybe worked a different shift or even that she didn't work there anymore, and frankly, couldn't say as I blamed her. Looked like a shit job to me.
I don't know why I wanted to talk to her again. On the face of things--her working a minimum wage job and having three unruly kids--we didn't have much in common. If I had to guess, I think it was the fact that despite what was clear exhaustion and frustration on her part that night, she still had a solid backbone when it was all said and done. That impressed me.
And let's not forget...she's totally gorgeous.
"Where are you going?" Hawke asks, but I don't spare him a glance.
"Be back in a minute," I mumble as I traverse around the low coffee table and follow the woman out the lobby doors.
She's tall for a girl, maybe topping out at five-nine, but that's perfect for me. I'm a towering goalie at six-five. Her hair is in a ponytail again and it swings jauntily as she turns right once she clears the doors and heads to a small courtyard. And when did nursing scrubs look so damn good on a woman before? They mold her ass perfectly, and I'm not ashamed I'm noticing that either.
Not a red-blooded male around that wouldn't look.
She waves at a coworker sitting at a picnic table wearing the same colored scrubs, which I'm guessing is a uniform, but doesn't sit with her, thankfully. Instead, she chooses a concrete bench set under a large crepe myrtle and takes advantage of the shade. Even though it's the first week of October, it's still fairly warm today.
I don't even hesitate but walk right up to her. She doesn't see me though, as she's got her head bowed over the paper bag while she pulls out a sandwich wrapped in plastic and a fruit cup. I glance at my watch and see it's only five after eleven, so I'm guessing this must be her lunch hour.
"Julianne?" I ask hesitantly when I'm just a few feet away.
Her head snaps up and she looks at me with blank eyes even though she answers almost hesitantly, "Yes?"
I push my hands in my pockets and try to look casual as I come to a stop before her. "Met you in the convenience store last week. Well, we weren't officially introduced..."
She still stares at me blankly, and while her golden brown eyes are as beautiful as I remember, they're still marred by the blue circles under them. It's clear she has no clue who I am. This should wound my ego, but again the opposite occurs and I like that she doesn't recognize me at all. I like being a true mystery for once and not having immediate assumptions made about me because of my fame.
I feed her a little more information to jog her memory. "Two redneck assholes giving you trouble. Then two feisty rug rats taping their sister up?"
I punctuate that last statement with a grin, and she finally recognizes me as her mouth forms into an O.
"I remember," she says softly with just a wisp of a smile, which slides off just as quickly as it formed. "That wasn't my best night."
"Well, I think you handled it with grace," I assure her.
Another slight smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, then her gaze drops to her lap. It's a shy maneuver, as if she doesn't know how to respond, or perhaps she just wants to be left alone. Since I don't know the answer, I press on.
I take a seat next to her on the bench, and she gives a little jump then turns to me with wide, curious eyes.
"I went back there to see you," I tell her conversationally.
Her mouth drops. "Why would you do that?"
I shrug and give her the simple but overly forward truth. "Pretty girl, I didn't see a wedding ring, and I wanted to talk to you more."
Julianne's eyebrows knit inward and she appears thoroughly confused.
So I try to enlighten her, and lean in and give her a conspiratorial wink. "It's what happens when a guy is interested in a girl. He tries to make conversation."
Well, that's not exactly true. Many guys just try to get in the girl's pants, but that was not my original intention. Don't get me wrong...this woman is smoking hot and I'm not going to pretend that the attraction isn't a big part, but I'm also equally intrigued by her.
She still doesn't say anything and I can't figure out if she's just a horrible conversationalist or unusually shy, both of which will really suck because I like my women to have some sort of personality.
So I try one more time to get the ball rolling. Reaching my right hand across, I hold it out and say, "My name's Max Fournier."
She finally moves, as if introductions are something she can handle, and shakes my hand. "Julianne Bradley, but my friends call me Jules."
Her hand is soft and the bones feel delicate yet her shake is surprisingly strong. I like that. I also like that she has put me in a friend category and not a weird-creeper category.
Our hands break apart. I don't like that.
"Well, Jules...when are you working again next? I'll drop in and keep you company. Might chase off a few more rednecks for you."
Finally, I get a true smile from her and it reaches her eyes. "Well, that's sweet of you but unfortunately I got fired from that job, so you won't be able to stalk me there."
"Why did you get fired?" I ask, a little dismayed I can't see her there, since it's the perfect excuse for me to...well...stalk her, but also a little happy because I felt that job was beneath her.
"My boss found out I had the kids that night and that's against company policy," she says sadly. "And I had to miss work one day because my babysitter fell through, again."
I tilt my head. "I assume this is your full-time job here. Are you a nurse?"
"Yeah, this is my full-time job. I only worked at the convenience store Monday through Friday from seven to twelve in the evenings. And I'm a certified nurse's assistant."
"So you were working two jobs and raising three kids?" I ask, astounded.
"Pretty much."
Just...wow.
"Husband or boyfriend to help you out?" I can't help but ask.
She shakes her head, accompanied by another pretty smile, but this time she drops her eyes in a definite shy gesture. She takes her hand and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear that has escaped her ponytail. "Just me."
Jesus. No wonder she looks like a strong wind would blow her over. And I'm guessing whatever prick got her pregnant and left her with three children should have his ass kicked.
While I'm pleased to hear there's no man in the picture, I'm still left with an unsettled feeling over her plight. "No other family to help a young mother out with her kids?"
Her face gets a little guarded and I think she might tell me to mind my own business, but I'm stunned when she says, "I'm their legal guardian and it's just me. The kids came to live with me four month
s ago when my sister died."
Fuck.
Just...fuck.
And everything is suddenly clear and fitting into place. Young woman working as a nurse's assistant and probably getting by okay on her own. Sister dies and she takes on raising her niece and nephews on what is probably a terrible salary for what she does. No wonder she was working a second job.
Hell, no wonder she looks like she's about ready to collapse.
And given how unruly those little hellions appeared to be, I bet she's in over her head.
I know that this should be causing all kinds of warning bells to go off in my head, but for some reason it merely makes me want to pull her to my side, press her head on my shoulder and assure her that I'll make everything right.
Which...that's fucking weird. I've never been a guy who feels like he has to rescue a girl just to prove his manliness. And besides, I remember when I tried to help her pull the tape off the little girl the other night, and she gave me a firm "Don't." I remember that tilt to her chin even though she looked on the verge of crying. I could tell right then Julianne had a backbone and I've always been attracted to independent women. She may be having troubles, but she's definitely strong.
"Max." I hear Hawke calling my name and I turn my head toward the lobby doors. Jim is standing with him. "Let's go, buddy. We're ready to present the check."