Chapter 2
A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth. "No," he said calmly. "It isn't."
Heat rushed into my face. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I just finished a double shift, my app said—" I couldn't even finish the sentence.
"I understand," he said gently.
"No, you really don't. This is unbelievably embarrassing." I practically threw myself out of the SUV, stumbled onto the sidewalk, nearly tripped over my own bag strap, and hurried away without daring to look back. I didn't stop until I'd crossed four city blocks. Leaning against a brick building, I started laughing, not because anything was funny, but because I couldn't believe exhaustion had convinced me to fall asleep inside a stranger's luxury SUV next to a man who looked like he owned half of Manhattan.
I promised myself I would never see him again. For three days, I believed that promise.
May you like
My name is Emma Castellano, and I've been a nurse at St. Catherine's for six years, most of them on the cardiac and geriatric care floor, the floor nobody requests because the patients stay longest and the losses hit hardest. I grew up in Woodside, Queens, the daughter of a subway mechanic and a school cafeteria worker, and I paid my way through nursing school with two jobs and a lot of instant coffee. I tell you this because it matters for what came later. I was not looking for anything from anyone. I had learned young that people who look like they have everything usually assume people like me have nothing worth respecting.
Three days after the SUV, I reported for another shift. "Room 412," the charge nurse said. "New admission. Eleanor Bennett, eighty-one, recovering from a mild cardiac episode, stable, private family suite." I gathered fresh linens and quietly entered the room.
