Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
It’s a good thing that I work the early shifts at the hospital, just three days a week, and I’m able to babysit everything going on at the bar. Because my mom is supposed to be in charge there, and well . . .
That’s going pretty crappy.
I grab my things and walk out of the hospital in Bitterroot Valley, climb into my black Tacoma, and then head home, which is about thirty minutes away in the smaller community of Silver Springs.
Frankly, I’m fucking tired. Pulling long days as a physical therapist at the hospital, followed by long evenings at the bar because my mother is too out of it to work her own shifts, is slowly sucking the soul right out of me. I love being a physical therapist. Sure, this isn’t exactly what I had planned when I went to school, but at least I’m working in my field, and work is never boring.
What I hadn’t planned on was taking care of my mother and the bar on top of a full-time, demanding job.
I make a quick stop at home to say hi to Cally, my cat, and change out of my scrubs. Cally follows me into the bedroom, meowing at me, and I pause to sit on the bed and pick her up, nuzzling her soft fur, and take a moment to enjoy the quiet and just breathe.
“Hey, sweet girl. I missed you today too.”
I feel bad because I haven’t been home enough for her. I know that cats are known to be independent, but I want to spend more time with the sweet kitten. She’s not even six months old. She’s just a baby. This precious girl loves to be held and cuddled, and I feel like I’ve been neglecting her.
I hate that.
“I have to go to the bar again tonight and probably deal with my jerk of a mother, but I’d rather stay here and snuggle with you in front of the TV.”
Cally purrs and nuzzles into my neck, and it makes me smile.
This cat might be my only friend in the whole world.
And isn’t that just pathetic?
It’s not that I don’t know people. I know most of the people in this town. I grew up here. But I don’t know that there’s anyone I would consider a close friend. I’ve always kept a low profile, and I’m socially awkward enough that it’s just better that way because I inevitably embarrass myself.
“Okay, sweet pea, I have to go, but I’ll try to be back soon.” I kiss her some more and then set her down so I can change into a pair of jeans and a tank top under a loose sweatshirt.
I don’t love to wear tight clothes, but I get more tips if I’m in sexier outfits, and I figure if I have to be there, I might as well make good money while I’m at it.
But hopefully Mom will be sober enough to work tonight.
After I feed the cat, I get back in my truck and drive over to the bar, but before I can get out, my phone rings again. This time it’s my boss.
“Hey, Sara,” I say when I answer.
“Oh, I’m so glad I caught you. I have news for you. There’s an athlete in town who injured his knee, and he requires full-time therapy so he can go back to his sport as soon as possible, which I’m pretty sure is going to take at least another six months.”
My brow furrows as I listen.
Holy shit, this sounds amazing.
“And because you’re the one therapist on staff who trained to work with elite athletes, I immediately thought of you. I’d pull you off the hospital rotation, and you’d have to work a couple more days a week, but this would be your only priority until the patient is recovered.”
“Sara, you do know that this is literally my dream job, right?”
She chuckles on the other end of the line. “I knew you’d say that. Since it’s Friday, you’ll start on Monday, and I’ll send through the patient’s contact information along with his chart so you can get familiar with everything over the weekend.”
“Great, thank you. Who’s the patient?”
“Oh, sorry, I thought I said. It’s Xander Hendrix. You know, the hockey player?”
Xander Hendrix.
Yeah, I know him.
I’ve only been in love with him since I was fifteen, and he barely acknowledges I exist.
Awesome.
“Yes, of course I know Xander. Okay, thanks Sara.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
She ends the call, and I close my eyes as my stomach suddenly explodes with butterflies. I’m going to be working closely with Xander Hendrix for months.
This is both thrilling and nauseating.
But I don’t have time to think about that right now.
I climb the steps to the apartment above the bar, where my mom has lived since before I was born. My biological dad died when I was a baby, leaving the bar to my mom. There have been stepdads who came and went. The one who stuck around since I was a teenager, Chris, left three months ago. And honestly, I can’t blame him.