Stripped (3 page)

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Authors: Brenda Rothert

BOOK: Stripped
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It was after 3 a.m. by the time Abby got Kathy home
and settled into bed again. Justin woke up from his spot on the couch to help
her, and Abby sent him to bed then, lying down next to her Mom. She kicked her
shoes off, deciding that undressing would take too much energy.

“Abby. Abby, wake up.”

Abby opened her heavy eyelids and sprang up at the
sound of her mother’s voice.

“Huh? What? Are you okay?” she asked, still groggy.

“I need another sleeping pill,” Kathy said. “And
some water.”

“Mom, you can’t have more yet. They said every six
hours as needed.”

“Well, I need it,” Kathy said, agitated. “Don’t
start your shit with me!”

“It’s not time. Not until eight,” Abby said, her
clarity making a slow comeback.

“The doctor said I can have it when I need it,”
Kathy snapped, trying to roll herself to the side of the bed. “Just get my
goddamn medicine, Abby. You’re worthless if you won’t even help me when I need
it.”

“Mom, no. You have to stay in bed. I’ll go read the
instructions again, okay? I’ll bring it if you can have it.”

Abby glanced at a digital clock on her way out of
bed. 5:30 a.m. She was still so tired, but she knew she’d be feeling functional
soon.

She padded into the kitchen and scanned the doctor’s
instructions, ignoring her mother’s muffled complaints from the bedroom. It
confirmed what Abby already knew.

“Here’s your water,” she said, handing it over. “You
can have more medicine at eight. I’ll bring it to you before I leave for work.”

“I need it now, Abby!” Kathy snapped. “You don’t
know what this feels like. Bring me a pill, I’ll be fine.”

“We need to listen to the doctor, Mom,” Abby said
gently.

“He said I can have it! You must not have heard him.
You just like to make me suffer, you little bitch. Always have to be in control
of everything, don’t you?”

“Okay, well, I’ll call the hospital, then.”

Abby saw the outline of a glare on her mother’s face
as she left the room, finding her phone in the kitchen. She pulled the scrap of
paper from her pocket and dialed the numbers.

“Benedict ER,” a voice clipped in greeting.

“Hi…I’m calling for Dr. Reneau,” Abby said, suddenly
feeling silly for calling. The line went quiet as she was put on hold, and she
paced the kitchen nervously.

“Chris Reneau.”

“Oh, hi. Dr. Reneau, it’s Abby Gillis, from
earlier.”

“Hi, Abby. Is everything okay?”

He had a sexy phone voice, Abby thought. She rolled
her eyes at herself. How desperate, to be thinking that about the doctor who
had treated her mother at the hospital.

“My Mom wants more sleeping medication. She said you
told her she could have some before eight.”

“No, I didn’t say that. Tell her to sit tight until
it’s time.”

“Okay.”

“Those are my labs, Karen,” he said to someone else.
“They’re for my patient in seven.”

“Okay, thanks. I’m sorry to bother you,” Abby said.

“No, it’s no bother. I told you to call. Everything
else okay? You must be tired -- I hope you don’t have to go to work this
morning.”

“Everything else is good. Thanks again.”

“Call me back if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, Dr. Reneau,” she said. “Bye.”

“Bye, Abby.”

 

 

Chapter 2

 

“Good morning!” Marla said brightly. Abby mumbled a
response as she slid into her chair.

“I e-mailed you a letter I need sent to everyone in
my list of contacts,” Marla said. “If you can get to it today, that would be
great.”

“Sure thing,” Abby said. “Want some coffee?”

“You look like you need it more than I do. I’ll get
it. I brought doughnuts, too, do you want one?”

“No, thanks. Just coffee.”

Abby was on her third cup when she finished sending
out Marla’s letter. Her office was a peaceful, quiet place, and she enjoyed the
solitude she felt when she was there. Light music flowed in from a neighboring
office, interrupted by the rhythmic clicking and sliding of the photocopy
machine.

She sorted through Marla’s mail and a stack of
paperwork on her own desk, surprised when she looked at the clock and saw that
it was nearly noon.

“Would you like me to get lunch?” Abby asked Marla,
looking through the doorway of her office.

“No, I’ll order in,” Marla said with a wave of her
hand, absorbed in something she was reading on her computer.

Abby was trying to decide what she wanted for lunch
when her phone rang with an unfamiliar number. Her heart jumped at the thought
that it could be Sara and Audrey’s school calling with an emergency.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Abby, it’s Chris Reneau.”

“Dr. Reneau?”

“Um, Chris. Call me Chris.”

“Okay. Hi,” she said, wondering why he was calling.

“How’s your Mom doing?” Oh. He wanted to check on
her Mom.

“She’s okay, I think. I’m at work, but she was okay
when I left earlier.”

“I’m sorry for calling you at work,” he said.

“No, it’s fine. “

“Okay, good. I was thinking about our conversation
last night, and I wondered if you might want to get together sometime to talk
more about respite care.”

“That’s very nice of you, but really, I’m okay,”
Abby said. “I have a system, and it works. My brother helps me.”

“Right. Well, could we maybe just get together
sometime, then?” he asked nervously. Abby’s heart hammered in her chest.

“Do you mean … are you asking me out?” she asked.

“Yeah, kind of. I don’t normally … I mean, I’ve
never asked out a patient or a family member, so I hope I’m not offending you.
I’d just like to get to know you better.”

“Oh, I’m not very interesting,” Abby said, feeling
suddenly jittery.

“Why don’t you let me decide for myself?” Chris
said, sounding amused. “I’m off Saturday night, can we have dinner?”

No, because I’ll be working at a strip
club
,
Abby thought, shaking her head.

“I can’t,” she said.

“Another night?”

“No, I can’t then, either.”

“Are you married? Or do you have a boyfriend? You
probably do,” he said.

“No, no, it’s not that,” she said gently, closing
the door to her office.

“Oh. Are you just not interested?” he asked. Abby
cringed at the deflated tone of his voice.

“No, it’s not that, either.”

“Then what?” he asked curiously. Abby sighed, trying
to think of a plausible excuse, but nothing came to mind.

“You don’t want to go out with me,” she said.

“Yes, I do.”

“Trust me, you don’t. Guys like you don’t go out
with girls like me.”

“What does that mean? You don’t know what I’m like
yet,” Chris said smoothly.

Abby paused, trying to think of the best way to
break the news to him.

“Remember when you said I looked familiar?” she
asked.

“Yes.”

“I was one of the dancers at Mickey’s at the
bachelor party you were at Friday night. You didn’t want a lap dance from me.”

There was a pause on the line and Abby stared at the
ceiling, waiting.

“That was you,” he said. “Yeah, now I remember.”

“You probably didn’t see much of my face that
night,” she quipped. Chris chuckled.

“So you can’t go Saturday night because you have to
work?” he asked.

“Right.”

“Okay. So, another night, then? Or lunch?”

Abby’s brows furrowed with surprise.

“What? You still want to go out with me?”

“Sure.”

She wondered if he assumed she was easy because she
was a stripper.

“Abby?”

“Yes, I’m here. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Let’s just have lunch. I’m actually a pretty okay
guy,” he said.

“Well…” She hesitated. Though she wanted to see him
again, she had a strict policy against going out with anyone she met at the
club. That eliminated most all men, which was why she hadn’t been out with anyone
in over a year.

“Don’t make me beg. I’m terrible at it,” Chris said.
Abby smiled at his playful tone.

“You don’t seem like a man who’s ever had to beg for
a date,” she said.

“So…”

“So okay. Lunch would be good,” she said, closing
her eyes. She was still reeling over the fact that he even wanted to go out
with her.

“Great. How’s tomorrow?”

“I’ll check,” she said, clicking her mouse onto her
schedule. “Looks like I’m open.”

“Want me to pick you up, or should we meet
somewhere?”

“Let’s meet at Dalton’s. It’s a deli down the street
from my office. Is noon okay?”

“Perfect. See you then, Abby.”

“Okay. Bye.”

She smiled widely as she hung up the phone, resting
her chin on her hands. Though she knew it couldn’t go anywhere, the prospect of
seeing the Greek God again filled her with nervous excitement.

 

“You look nice today,” Marla said, admiring Abby’s
dark purple sleeveless dress.

“Thanks. I’m sort of having lunch with someone
today.”

“Sort of?”

“It’s nothing. He asked, and I didn’t want him to
feel bad, so…”

“So you dressed up in a gorgeous dress and some fuck
me heels,” Marla said, raising an eyebrow.

“These are not fuck me heels,” Abby said, glaring.
“Trust me, I own a lot of them. Wear them three nights a week, in fact.”

“So who is this guy?” Marla asked, perching on the
side of Abby’s desk.

“He’s a Greek God.”

“Nice.”

“He’s the doctor who treated my Mom in the ER Monday
night.”

Marla’s mouth dropped open.

“A doctor? Go, girl.”

“He’s really nice. I think we could be friends,”
Abby said.

“Why friends?”

“Because I’m a stripper,” Abby said in a tone that
implied it was obvious.

“So what? You’re not a prostitute, Abby, you’re
supporting your family as a dancer. And if this guy has a problem with it when
you tell him, he’s not worthy of you.”

“He already knows.”

“Good,” Marla said, smiling. “Have a nice time. Take
a long lunch. And come tell me how it went when you get back.”

 

Abby scanned the rows of booths at Dalton’s,
searching for Chris’ blond hair. When her eyes fell on him, he gave a small
wave and she smiled. He stood as she arrived at the booth and she felt a wave
of anxiety. He wore a gray t-shirt and worn jeans, and he looked good.

“Hi,” he said, smiling nervously. Abby wondered what
a tall, strikingly handsome doctor had to be nervous about. Surely not lunch
with a stripper.

“Hi,” she said, sitting down across from him.

“You look really pretty.”

“Thanks.” She blushed at the compliment. Men roamed
every inch of her body with their eyes at the club, but Chris’ look felt
different somehow. More intimate and appreciative.

“So you work two jobs?” he asked.

“Yes. I used to work at – do you want to hear the
whole story?”

He nodded eagerly.

“I got a business degree from DePaul. My senior year
I did an internship at Frederick Wilson, an investment firm, and they hired me
when I graduated. But when one of the partners saw me working at the club, I
got fired. I had a lot of trouble finding another job, but I eventually did, at
Case Publications. I’m an assistant to an executive there. It doesn’t pay much,
but I do it for the health insurance. Dancing at the club is how I make money.”

“Hi, I’m Brianna and I’ll be taking care of you
today,” a bubbly, blond waitress said. “Can I start you with some drinks?”

“Coffee,” Chris said. Brianna smiled sweetly at him.

“Water … Hey, I thought you worked nights,” Abby
said as Brianna left the table.

“I do. Five nights a week, six sometimes.”

“Were you off last night?”

“No, I’m off Saturday this week.”

“When did you get off work?”

“I left at eight.”

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Abby asked, surprised.

“I don’t need as much sleep as most people. My
residency cured me of that.”

“Do you like being an ER doctor?”

“Most of the time, I love it. It’s always something
different. I was planning to be a surgeon but I got hooked on emergency
medicine in med school.”

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